Chapter 45

45

KANNON

V alentine’s Day wasn’t supposed to matter to a guy like me. Cards and candy? Not my style. But when it came to Merritt, everything felt different. Bigger. Real. And after the whirlwind she’d been through—packing up her entire life in Miami, saying goodbye to her friends, returning her Cadillac—I knew she needed a night out.

I wanted to be the cheesy boyfriend that gave her all the goofy Valentine’s things. I wanted to take her out to an expensive restaurant decorated with red hearts and lots of candles. I had everything planned down to the last detail.

The restaurant I chose was known for its romantic ambience and exceptional French cuisine. I booked the best table, one secluded by draped curtains with a view of the city lights. I wanted to show her I could be like her city boys when necessary. I could spoil her rotten and treat her to a fancy night out.

I checked the time and realized it was almost time to go pick her up. We were doing this right. I wasn’t taking the bike. Not tonight. I had a pickup, but I rarely drove it except for work. I had spent the day detailing it and getting it ready for tonight.

I stepped in front of the mirror and took my time tying my tie, adjusting it just so. The black silk felt smooth under my fingers—a stark contrast to the usually rough work clothes I wore at construction sites. Tonight, I was a different version of myself: cleaner, sharper, someone who could seamlessly step into the polished shoes of Merritt’s world without missing a beat.

I grabbed my jacket from the back of a chair, slipping into it while checking for my wallet and the small velvet box hidden in the inner pocket. My girl was going to feel like the most special lady in the world. I grabbed my keys and the bouquet of roses and headed out the door.

On the drive to her dad’s house, I had more time to think. We would soon be living in a house together. I hoped it would be the one she loved, but even if it wasn’t, I knew there was still a future for us. We were going to go to bed every night together and wake up together. I wanted to build a life with her. I wanted to create our own little nest with her. A home that was ours.

When I got to the house, I knocked and waited.

“Come in!” I heard her shout.

I walked into the house, still amazed by how beautiful it turned out. It still had the same character but was fresh and ready for a new family to call it home. Which reminded me I still needed to talk to Merritt about that. Things had been happening at breakneck speed.

When she walked into the living room, my breath caught. Her hair was half up, little tendrils falling around her face and neck. She wore a sleek black dress that hugged her in all the right places and accentuated her figure. The design was simple, yet elegant, with a fitted bodice and a flowing skirt that ended just above her knees. The fabric seemed to shimmer in the light, adding a touch of glamour to her already stunning appearance. The dress hugged her hips and waist perfectly, showing off her hourglass figure. Every movement she made seemed effortless in the dress, as if it was made for her.

My Buttercup was stunning, and I wasn’t about to let her spend Valentine’s Day doing anything less than being treated like the queen she was.

“Wow,” I said, letting out a low whistle. “You are stunning.”

Merritt blushed, a sweet curve of pink lighting up her cheeks. “Thank you,” she replied.

She moved closer, stepping into my open arms. Her perfume was a mixture of jasmine and something uniquely Merritt. It filled my senses and made my heart skip.

“I think I like this look on you,” she said.

I cringed. “You want me to wear a tie all the time?”

“Absolutely not, but you wear it well. I still like the blue-collar thing. You rock that toolbelt.”

“Ready for our date?” I asked, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes.

“Absolutely,” she said with a smile that lit up her entire face. “I can’t wait to see what you have planned.”

“I think you’re going to be surprised,” I said. “Oh, the flowers.”

“They’re gorgeous!” She placed them on the kitchen counter before returning to me.

I opened the door and helped her into my truck, then drove downtown to the restaurant.

“Here?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“And here I thought you’d take me to Riggs’s bar for a beer and call it a date.”

I laughed, grabbing my jacket. “We can do better than Riggs’s bar. Tonight is special. You deserve to be treated like a queen. I can’t take you out on a yacht but I can spring for a nice dinner.”

“Impressive.” She slid her arm through mine as we headed for the door.

The restaurant I picked was all soft lighting and white tablecloths, a far cry from my usual haunts. Tonight the tablecloths were red to match up with the Valentine’s theme. Merritt raised an eyebrow as we were seated, her lips quirking in amusement.

“Who are you, and what have you done with Kannon?” she asked, leaning toward me across the table.

“Just wait,” I said with a smirk. “The night’s still young.”

The truth was, I wanted this to be special. She deserved that. And seeing the way her eyes lit up as the waiter poured her a glass of wine told me I’d made the right call.

We ordered our meals and settled in. “How was it?” I asked. “Leaving Miami.”

“It was bittersweet,” she admitted, sipping her wine. “Saying goodbye was harder than I thought. But it felt right, you know? Like it was time.”

“Miami might’ve been your life for a while, but Dallas is where you’re supposed to be. With me.”

Her eyes softened, and she squeezed my hand. “I know. It feels like coming home.”

“How did Dominique and Lucia take it?”

She sighed a little bit, swirling the wine in her glass. “Lucia, she understood. We cried, we laughed, we promised to text and call every day.” Merritt took a long sip, her gaze far away. “Dominique tends to handle things differently.”

“And you’re sure you want this?” I asked. “Dallas.”

“I am. We had a good night together.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” I replied, lifting her hand to my lips for a gentle kiss.

“Me too. Honestly, I’m not that sad. Miami was like a placeholder. It wasn’t where I was supposed to spend the rest of my life. I’m supposed to be here. This is what I want.”

“I’m glad you said that. I wanted this night, our first Valentine’s Day together, to be special. It feels a bit like the first day of the rest of our lives.”

“And it is special, with you,” she said.

Dinner arrived, and we ate slowly, talking about everything and nothing. The conversation flowed easily, and for the first time in weeks, it felt like we could breathe. Just the two of us. I didn’t feel that nagging in the back of my mind demanding I hop on my bike and ride like hell. I didn’t need the adrenaline rush. Being here with her was all I needed.

As dessert was served—a ridiculously fancy chocolate mousse—I pulled the small box from my jacket pocket and slid it across the table.

“What’s this?” she asked with surprise.

“It’s Valentine’s. Remember? You said you didn’t want all that traditional stuff? The chocolate and flowers and whatever?”

She nodded. “And jewelry.”

“Well, I want you to have it all,” I said. “Including the jewelry.”

“Kannon, you didn’t have to.”

“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to.”

“What is it?”

I laughed. “Open it. That’s usually how this works.”

Her fingers trembled slightly as she untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside was a pair of diamond earrings, sparkling in the candlelight. She gasped, her eyes widening as she looked at me.

“Kannon, these are the earrings we saw in Miami. At the airport. How did you even?—”

“I remembered how you looked at them,” I said, shrugging like it was no big deal. “And I figured you should have them.”

Her eyes glistened as she stared at me, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable. Thank you.” She reached for her purse, pulling something out. “I have something for you too. It’s not nearly as beautiful or nice as the earrings, but I hope it means something to you.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” I said.

“Trust me, it’s not much.”

I frowned, watching as she unfolded a small, creased piece of paper. “What’s that?” I asked.

She slid it across the table. The second I saw the familiar chicken scratch handwriting, I froze. “Wait, is that what I think it is?”

She giggled. “If you think it’s a note you gave me a long time ago, you would be right.”

I picked it up and read my middle-school handwriting. “Do you like me? Circle yes or no.”

She laughed again.

A laugh bubbled out of me. I shook my head. “You kept this?”

“All this time,” she said, her voice soft. “It’s the first note you ever gave me.”

I couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re something else, Buttercup.”

We sat there for a moment, both grinning like idiots, before she reached for my hand again. “I have an entire box of stuff that you gave me and little mementos of our many adventures. I have movie stubs, pressed wildflowers, even an empty candy box.”

“I had no idea,” I said with disbelief.

“I’ve always thought of you as mine,” she said softly. “Everything in that box is a cherished memory. And, now, you’re here, with me, where I always wanted you to be.”

I looked into her eyes and nodded at her. “And you’ve always been mine, Merritt,” I said. “No matter where we were or who we were with, there was always a part of me that was yours. You anchored me when I needed it, and even when I didn’t know it.”

She smiled and wiped a tear from her eye. “So does this mean we’re official?”

“I hope so,” I said with a chuckle, picking up my dessert spoon. “Are you ready for the ride?”

“Absolutely.”

I waved over the waiter. “Can I borrow a pen, please?”

He frowned but pulled one from his pocket. I quickly checked the yes box and gave her the note back. “It’s official,” I said.

After dinner, we took a walk. The air was cool, the kind of crisp February night that made your breath visible but not totally uncomfortable. I kept her hand in mine, our steps slow because I was still a little banged up. But it felt good to move, to be out with her like this.

“You’re quiet,” she said, glancing up at me.

“Just thinking,” I replied.

“About what?”

“About how much better this is than Riggs’s bar,” I teased, earning a laugh from her. “And about our trip to Florida.”

Her expression softened. “What about it?”

I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. “You remember that night on the beach? The family playing in the sand?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“I’ve been thinking about that a lot,” I admitted. “And I think I’ve changed my mind.”

Her brow furrowed. “About what?”

I stopped walking, turning to face her. “About being a father. Not tomorrow, or even next year. But one day.”

Her eyes searched mine, and a slow smile spread across her face. “Really?”

“Really.” I reached for her hand, rubbing my thumb over her ring finger. “We’ve got a couple of things to check off the list first but yeah.”

“Like what?” she asked, tilting her head.

“House. Ring. Wedding. Babies,” I said, ticking them off on my fingers.

Her laugh was soft, and she stretched up on her tiptoes to kiss me. “We can practice making babies until then, right?”

I grinned, reaching down to squeeze her butt. “You bet your ass we’ll practice, Buttercup.”