Page 89 of Some Sort of Crazy (Happy Crazy Love 2)
I just hope she’ll let me.
My phone was shaking in my hand. “Oh my God.” I looked at Skylar. “Oh my God. He published this?”
She nodded.
“Hey, Natalie?” Hailey called from the kitchen. “Can you come out here? I need you.”
“Oh, shit.” I put a hand to my cheek. “Is my face flushed?”
“Yes.” She giggled and fanned it. “But you better get out there.”
I moved past her and went through the kitchen into the shop, my pulse skittering out of control.
Then I gasped. The entire place was silent, all eyes on me. On the wall opposite the counter, where the pictures of Skylar usually hung, were four huge new photos.
Of Miles.
He wore the same jeans and t-shirt in each one, as if they’d all been taken the same day, and in every photo he held up a different hand-painted sign.
I moved closer, my hands covering my mouth, as I read each sign.
The one on the left said WILL.
The next said YOU.
The third said MARRY.
The last one ME?
Heart pounding, I looked around the room. Was he here somewhere?
“Pssst.” Seated at a table near the door, a little old lady pointed outside. “I think that’s what you want.”
I turned, and sure enough, out on the sidewalk and framed in the window, was Miles. Down on one knee. Holding a ring box.
“Oh my God.” On wobbly legs, I walked to the door and pushed it open. “What are you doing?”
He smiled and took my hand. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m upending your life.”
I laughed as a few tears splashed down my cheeks.
“Did Skylar show you the post?”
I nodded, swallowing hard. “Did you mean it? What you said?”
“Of course I did. I love you, Natalie. Let me show you how much.”
“But—”
“Just listen. I know I’m not what you planned on,” he said, his expression turning serious. “And believe me, I never thought I’d be down here on one knee, begging to love someone forever. But this is not a mistake.” He squeezed my hand, his eyes filling. “I feel it in my bones, Natalie. You’ve always been in my heart. You’ve always been the one I couldn’t forget. And all last night I kept thinking that this—you and me and this baby—it wasn’t an accident. It was exactly what was supposed to happen all along.”
“Miles,” I said, a sob breaking lose.
“You told me you were lost that first night we spent together,” he went on, rising to his feet. “And do you remember what I said?”
I nodded. “You said, ‘You’re not lost. You’re right here with me.’”
He opened the box, spoke low and soft. “You always have been. Stay with me?”
