Chapter 59

Connor

“You got off your arse and proposed?” Van said, reaching across the dining table to fist bump Gage. “Fuck yeah.”

“Excuse me if I wanted something a little more meaningful than just blurting a proposal out accidentally,” Gage said, his arms tightening around Kendall’s shoulder. “Our girl deserves that.”

“Ohh, so it’s like that, is it?” Van poked his spaghetti with his fork. “Then I want a do-over.”

“You can’t have a do-over proposal,” Gage said. “It’s not a game of handball. You fucked up, did yours hastily, and you have to live with that.”

I hated Gage’s smug smile, even Van’s much goofier one. I hated everything about this, because sure enough, everyone turned to face me.

“So what do you have planned?” Van asked. “Gonna try and top Gage’s grand gesture?”

My mind had already jumped to the same place, even though I wasn’t ready. I’d been talking to lawyers since I realised this was an option, exploring what legal protections we could provide for Kendall. Finn relinquishing his share of the business was pretty helpful. It made her a quarter shareholder in any and all profits the business made, but… I wanted more than that. I needed an airtight means to protect Kendall, to make sure that if anything happened to us or she decided to walk away that she’d do so much better than she when walked in through the front door the first time. I was already looking at adding her to the deed of our property, but…

Beyond the need to petition politicians to change laws to suit our personal situation, was this.

I’d never really been all that interested in the idea of weddings until I started seeing Kendall walking down the aisle in my mind, but what was a heavenly picture quickly soured. Who would she marry? Whose ring would she slide on her finger?

“I’m in the midst of talking to lawyers—” I started to say.

“Pfft…” Van shook his head. “Yup, I topped that already.” He made his hands all stiff, like a primitive robot, then imitated their speech patterns as he continued. “Dear Kendall, will you enter into a legally binding agreement with me?”

“Stop it, Van,” Kendall said with a shake of her head but that didn’t stop me pushing my pasta aside. “Hey, Connor—”

“I’m not super hungry tonight.” I forced myself to smile. “I had drinks with an agent today and had to eat something or I’d be forced to get one of you to pick me up.” I hefted my bowl. “I’ll put it in the fridge and reheat it later.”

No, I wouldn’t. Kendall had made an amazing Bolognese sauce, but it was like sawdust in my mouth, so I covered the bowl in cling wrap and then went out the backdoor to the garden, where it felt like I could finally take a full breath. The stars twinkled silently over my head. I tried to count every one, just like I had when I was a kid, before I caught sight of the shed.

Work on ‘Daisy’ had come to a halt. I’d offered to get Kendall another car, but she kept brushing me off. As I stepped closer, the automatic light flicked on, revealing the old car in all its ageing glory. Kendall seemed curiously attached to the bloody thing. When I said a scrap yard had made an offer for the car, she was horrified I’d even suggest it, though everyone I spoke to said it was the only fitting end for the thing. The car was hopeless and maybe that’s what drew me closer.

It was completely and utterly Kendall’s car. I peered through the windows then opened the driver’s seat door, sitting down behind the wheel. My knees were touching the wheel so I reached down and pushed the lever to force the seat back, only to be greeted by a loud screech.

“Daisy doesn’t do seat adjustments.” When I glanced through the windscreen, Kendall appeared, strolling closer with a small smile on her face. “She doesn’t allow her seats to be angled back or forward, only starts half the time, and has this weird ticking sound, which I really hope isn’t a bomb timer or something.”

“So why don’t you allow me to buy you something new?” I asked. “Something safe and reliable. A car that isn’t the result of a million other people’s neglect.”

“A clean slate, huh?” She leaned against the roof of the car, looking down at me. “I can see the appeal of something brand new. Unmarked, undamaged-it’s all potential, isn’t it? Much easier to start afresh than deal with the shit of the past.”

My lips thinned, ready to make clear how different cars and people were. We weren’t going to fall apart on her on her way to work, or worse, cause a car accident.

“I just need you to be safe, Kendall.”

“And I like looking after my things.” Her gaze was soft, but she didn’t look away for a second. “Caring for them. Keeping them ticking along. Sometimes it’s just with a hope and a prayer, but still… I’ve never been good about just walking away from things and forgetting about them. I tried really, really hard, y’know?”

I knew that all too well.

“But once something’s got its hooks in me, I can’t seem to bring myself to let it go.” She smoothed a hand over the car’s roof. “I will with Daisy at some point, if you’re concerned about me taking up space in your shed.”

“Your shed.” I was up and out of the car and leaning into her space before my hand went to her waist. “Your car, your shed, your home, Kendall. I might suggest it needs to go to the great scrap yard in the sky, but it’s not going anywhere…”

I had a whole speech planned, but just then, inspiration struck. Kendall had made an obvious connection between the car and her relationship with us, so maybe…

The next day I snuck away from work early and met the tow truck I’d booked around the back of the house.

“Straight to the scrap yard, mate?” the driver asked, scratching his head as he looked at Daisy.

“Unfortunately, no. My girlfriend” —I smiled— “fiancée loves the bloody thing, so I need to get it fixed. Know anyone who’d be willing to take this job on?”

“Cost you a lot of bloody money,” the driver said with a shake of his head. “But yeah, I know someone. Old fella who loves doing up ancient bombs like this. I’ll give him a call and see if he can fit you in.”

And so Daisy went to get a makeover.

“So are you ready?” Kendall stuck her head in through the doorway, then looked me up and down with an appreciative hum. “Yeah, you are.” She moved in to twitch at my tie, and because it was her, I permitted that. “Who knew you’d look so hot in a suit. So we won’t have to go to this awards ceremony for long, right?”

I smiled.

“Nope. We’ll just show our face, do a little bit of a meet and greet, then leave.” I held out my arm for her to take. “But we have to make a pit stop first.”

“Ughh…” She rolled her eyes. “Is this to pick up more paperwork? I swear this is why Finn was so keen to offload his quarter of the business on me. Now I’m the one who has to sign stuff all day.”

“Something like that,” I told her as I walked her out the door.

There was no award ceremony. None of the others knew that because Gage and Van had been to enough of them that when I offered to go just with Kendall, they gladly accepted. They were stuffy, boring events no one went to willingly. There was also no paperwork to be signed. We wouldn’t be going to the office, but here.

“What’s this place?” Kendall looked up from her phone and then frowned as she took in the garage door, blinking at the floodlights. Once her eyes adjusted, she saw it. “Daisy?” She grabbed the door handle and wrenched it open. “Is that Daisy? No, it can’t be. It can’t!”

But it was.

Bill, the mechanic whose eyes had lit up at the idea of a full restoration, ambled over as he cleaned his hands on a rag.

“You’re Kendall?” She nodded enthusiastically. “Your husband here has spent a pretty penny doing this car up for you. Full restoration he ordered.” When he opened the driver’s seat door, the hinge didn’t groan, and she gasped when she saw the interior. He’d ripped everything out, electricals, motor, dash, the lot, replacing them all bit by bit. The cracked vinyl seats were now plush, hand-stitched leather, and she let out a little moan as she settled into it. “Stripped it back to the frame, I did, then repainted the lot. Like a brand new car.”

But it wasn’t. It was the same old piece-of-shit car, not even a noteworthy model in automotive history, but Kendall loved it. I could see it in the bright flush of her cheeks as she looked at the centre console, the glove box, and then took in the shiny, new gear-shifter knob. My heart went to my chest when she reached up and flipped the visor down, because that’s when she saw it.

Would she say yes? I fucking hoped with every beat of my heart that she would as a thin chain hooked around the corner bounced free, a ring dangling on the end of it. I’d talked to the others, to Alice and Finn, quizzing them on what Kendall might want in an engagement ring, but no one had been much help. Finn just shrugged and said something with diamonds because chicks love diamonds, but Alice?

“An engagement ring is a promise,” she said. “It says as much about you and what you think about her as it does about your ability to provide for her. I can’t tell you what kind of ring to get because only you know how you feel. Look for a design that best represents that, and I’m sure Kendall will love it.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Bill said with a wink. “The keys for the shop are over by the door. Just make sure you lock up afterwards.”

“Thanks, mate,” I said, shaking his hand and then taking my first step towards her.

She stared at the twists of metal, letting them roll around in her palm. A Russian wedding ring some jewellers had called it, or a rolling ring, they usually were made of three bands of different coloured precious metals, but I’d ordered this one in four. Silver, gold, rose gold and platinum, it glittered against her skin, but as I drew closer, she stared at me wide-eyed.

“You’re right,” I told her. “It would be much easier to throw the car away and get something new, but then where would we be? We’d have lost something beautiful, something precious that just needed some work to get it to a good place. That’s why I got your car restored. I still hate it and want to get you something with at least one airbag, but…” I smiled. “I know that this is what you want. You want to drive this old piece of—”

She pressed a hand to my mouth.

“Don’t diss Daisy. She might’ve had a serious facelift, but she’s still really temperamental.”

“Right. The car has feelings. Got it.” Then she smiled and I almost forgot what I was here for. “I needed a symbol to show you I’m always willing to put in the work, or…” My jaw flexed as I considered this idea more fully. “Pay someone else to do the work. Um—”

Kendall rose to her feet, pressing her mouth against mine, her fingers clutching the chain and ring tightly, but I pulled it free. I kissed her and kissed her, feeling my body start to respond, but it was more than that. My heart ached far more fiercely than my dick because I needed to do this.

“Marry me, Kendall.” I held up the ring. “In whichever way you feel comfortable. Marry me and—”

“Yes.”

I didn’t know how much I needed to hear that until I did. She agreed to marry Gage and Van, so intellectually I felt pretty comfortable assuming she would, but… It was something else to see her, feel her, hear her say yes. My arms went around her and I pulled her tight against me, not even allowing enough room for her to breathe. I felt like she’d slip through my fingers at any moment, right up until I pushed the ring on her finger.

Now she wore a symbol of what she was to us, I felt, as I stared down at the band.

“It fits perfectly.”

“Obviously.” I rolled my eyes. “I stole one of your silver rings and had it sized.”

“So that’s where it went.” Her hand went to her hip. “It didn’t ‘roll down the back of the chest of drawers?’”

“It did when I threw it down there,” I replied.

Her smile was infectious, spreading slowly across her face, and mine did the same. I could stare into her eyes all day but especially now.

“You went to all this work… You restored Daisy?”

“Anything for you. I’ve told you that enough times, but I needed to make sure you understood it. Literally anything for you.”

“So would you love me if I was a worm?” she asked, her grin widening.

“I’d dig you out of the earth and put you in your own custom-made terrarium,” I replied.

“What if I was a fly?”

“You’d have all of the disgusting, rotting meat you could handle in a special pesticide-protected fly hotel.”

“What if I turned into a total bridezilla and wanted a really expensive destination wedding?”

“Anything.”

I kissed her until she stopped asking dumb questions and started asking the right ones.

“So do we need to go to this award ceremony thing? Because I think a drag race home is in order.”