Page 69 of Final Proposal

“But it is getting late,” I say. But neither of us move. “And it might take a while to get an Uber in this town with everybody drinking like us tonight.”

“I know, but I don’t want to go back just yet. I want to sit here on a bench with you under the stars, with the sound of laughter in the air, and the moonlight on our faces.”

“Why, Ellery Sinclair, are you a romantic?”

It doesn’t fit her. First the romance novel, now this? The woman is a mess of contradictions, none of which I’d expect to be a romantic, and I love discovering them one by one.

“A romantic?” She snorts. “You have to believe in love to believe in romance.”

“Whoa. That’s a big statement.”

She laughs and plays it off with a shrug.

Then again, who’s not cynical after ending a relationship?

“But you read romance books?”

“Those authors write some good sex.”

“I should have figured.” I bark out a laugh. “You still read them though.”

“But not the epilogues,” she says, holding up a finger to emphasize her point.

“Wait. What? Why don’t you read the epilogues? What’s wrong with them?” Our eyes meet as her tipsy smile fades and something flashes through her eyes. Almost as if she let that slip without thinking about it. It’s only a split second of time, but it’s enough to see that guard of hers fall. I know there’s pain hidden behind it. “Elle?”

The wall is refortified in an instant and is smothered behind an unapologetic smile. “I’m joking. It’s a joke. I mean, what is romance really? Grand gestures that are over the top so the guy can win the big-dick contest when he brags to his friends and she brags to her friends about how much he loves her?” She waves a hand my way and then finishes the seltzer in her hand.

Clearly, Chandler wasn’t doing it right.

But I leave the thought unspoken, just as I don’t question her further on her epilogue comment. I stand and hold out a hand to her.

“Love and romance aren’t mutually exclusive. And it’s not always grand gestures.”

She rolls her eyes and pushes against my chest. “Show me a man who knows how to do that and I’ll marry him.” She laughs and jumps up, holding her hands out to me. “One more dance before we go?”

We head to the dance floor and move to the beat.

Her body against mine.

Her laughter in my ears.

Her words in my head.

She doesn’t read the epilogues.

She doesn’t believe in happily ever afters.

Ellery

How did he know this is what I needed? A night out. Some time away. A little bit of entertainment, some horrible-for-you-food, and laughter. So much laughter.

I let the feeling suspend me on the drive home. My head’s on his shoulder, his hand’s on my thigh, and our rideshare driver isn’t bothered by the silence or our laughter every few minutes when Ford pokes my ribs.

It’s been forever since I’ve felt like this. Carefree. Lighthearted. And not that I’m always serious, but it takes a lot for me to feel comfortable enough with someone to let my true self show. To let my guard down and just be me.

And now as we head toward the inn, our home, I know I want more out of tonight.

I want him.