Chapter Twenty-Five

Tate

I can't stop checking my watch. I keep running through the numbers in my head, calculating what time Fallon and Daisy left this morning, factoring in the usual traffic, recent weather patterns, additional time for a bathroom stop, and how long it takes to get from the parking garage into the building and up to the top floors. By all accounts, they should be here by now. Either Piper isn't coming, and they aren't sure how to tell me, or she was extremely hard to convince.

My stomach has been in knots all morning, not responding well to the coffee I lobbed into it like a live grenade, or the skimpy piece of toast I consumed as a peace offering. I've never been this nervous at a launch party before. There really isn't anything to be nervous about. The app itself has been a success all throughout trials. I don't want to admit to reading Sunset Fake, but I dip my toe in occasionally, and a majority of pairs from the trial have been spotted around town together. I didn't have to lift a finger planning the party. Fallon handled it all with her usual skill. The mini-golf course really lit a fire under her. I should buy the resort a set of paddle boats next.

I mill about the crowd in the lobby, watching as they drink their pink cocktails and snack on heart shaped cookies, take selfies in our photo corner under a banner with our logo on it, and look at booking packages for the resort. It was Ledger's idea to combine the two concepts, offering special rates for couple's weekends if booked through the app, with the opportunity to schedule group dates with a whole slew of planned activities. If this trip has taught me nothing else, it's that my family is far more competent than I give them credit for. They're all contributing to the success of this family resort by doing the things that suit them best.

An idea underscored by Fallon's success this afternoon, made apparent by her and Daisy's appearance through the front doors of the lodge, with a cautiously optimistic Piper in tow. I steel my nerves, positioning myself by the fireplace where we've hung another banner with the company logo, alongside a bevy of paper roses and confetti hearts. I may not have planned this party, but I did spend the better part of our two weeks apart planning this gambit. No matter how much I remind myself that I've done all I can, my heart keeps hammering in my chest, my blood sounding like a jet engine between my ears.

Since the day Piper entered my life, never once have we been apart for more than a few days, let alone two weeks. This stretch has been torturous, every ticking second feeling like a chisel carving deeper into my chest. Her absence is a cold void, her smile, her laugh, her warmth—all hauntingly absent, leaving me grappling with a silence that's too heavy, too hollow.

And now she's here. But she's rigid when all I want is for her to soften the moment she looks at me.

"What's this?" Piper asks, waving a hand first at the fireplace, then at the assembled guests. Her tone is dry, almost dismissive—definitely not the greeting I'd hoped for. Her cold entrance sets my nerves on edge, and I feel a twinge of irritation. Didn't even say hello or ask how I've been. The urge to comment bubbles up, but I tamp it down, choosing instead to send her a link to the app. Her phone vibrates sharply in her hand, interrupting the icy atmosphere between us.

She looks down at it, her brows knitting together in a deep frown. "You did it. And without any more help from me." Her voice is thick with bitterness, and the frown seems etched into her lips permanently. "Congratulations. I'm happy for you." The words are right, but the tone is all wrong, like vinegar masquerading as honey.

"I feel like this is starting off wrong," I sigh, taking hesitant steps towards her, bridging the gap with a careful tread. The optics of the situation dawn on me—it looks like I've brought her all this way just to boast. "Me. Words. I'm not even surprised." My own awkwardness with communication always seems to complicate things.

Piper opens her mouth to retort, her eyes flashing with the spark of an impending argument. I preempt her by reaching out and taking her hands in mine, an attempt to ground the moment and steer us away from conflict. Her hands are cold, her grip tentative.

"This isn't my project. This is our project. Look at the company name." I urge her gently, trying to draw her attention to something beyond the immediate tension.

She squints towards the banner above the fireplace, her posture easing slightly. "Hart Story Enterprises?" Her voice is a mix of surprise and curiosity, a crack in her frosty demeanor.

"I thought this could be the first of many projects. You've always supported me." I hold her gaze, trying to convey sincerity with every word.

"I have." Her acknowledgment is soft, almost introspective.

"And I've always taken it for granted." This confession is harder to make than I anticipated.

At this, a small laugh escapes her, and it's the first genuine smile I've seen since that tumultuous night. "You have." Her agreement, light yet laden with truth, makes my heart lurch.

"That stops. Now. I need you to know that…" The words choke in my throat, a sudden wave of nerves tightening around my vocal cords. I close my eyes, battling the surge of emotion, and take a long, shaky breath. When I open them, her face is awash with a soft, patient expression, waiting.

"I love you." The confession spills out, raw and unguarded. Her reaction is a swift parade of emotions—surprise, disbelief, a touch of amusement, and then, a dawning warmth.

"Really?" Her voice is a whisper, thick with emotion.

"Yeah, I do." Saying it feels like breaking through a barrier I hadn't fully acknowledged. "Apparently, I have for a long time, only I didn't recognize it as love, and I couldn't accept that I loved you because … I could never lose you. I told you that all the time. I just…"

"You were afraid," she finishes for me, her voice a gentle echo of understanding. "I get it. Love is scary. It's like making a major purchase without a return policy."

I nod, the analogy striking a chord. "Totally and utterly terrifying. The thing is, I could see I was losing you by not loving you too. And that was worse. So, I'm going all in. We survived the world's longest beta test. I tweaked a few things. And I think we're ready to launch too. If you're willing to give me a chance. I won't be perfect, but I promise you I will always try my hardest to make your world better because I'm in it."

Her grip tightens around my hands, a lifeline in the swirling uncertainty. "It's all I wanted, for you to pick me. To love me. Yes."

Relief floods me, though I know this is just the beginning. "Hold that thought." Still clasping her hand, I guide her around to the other side of the fireplace, where another surprise awaits. "There's more."

I watch as her eyes rove over the display Fallon and I built here. A three-tiered display stands in the middle, covered in chocolate-themed party favors, ranging from chocolate-shaped soaps to pens with our new logo and hot chocolate bombs. Of course, we couldn't get any of the real eventual product, seeing as how our lead chocolatier hadn't signed on to the project yet.

"What is this?"

"Your dream. You wanted to make and sell chocolates and truffles. You're amazing at it. I just hijacked you along the way." Pulling a cord, I unroll a banner on this side of the fireplace too.

"Hart Story Chocolatier?" Piper reads, biting her lip to stop herself from crying.

Two surprises down. One more to go. I drop to one knee before I can let my nerves get the better of me, and reach into my pocket. "I always told you I don't want to lose you. I just never opened up enough to give you a reason to stay. I really do love you, Piper. With my whole heart. You make me want to be a better man. I'll work to always respect your boundaries and build our dreams together. Will you marry me?"

"Yes," Piper responds so quickly and firmly that it seems like the question was superfluous. "Definitely yes."

Taking my hand from my pocket, I hand her a small red box. She opens it to find a very large chocolate, with a seam running along the middle. Pressing against it with her thumb, the seam separates, revealing that the chocolate itself was hollow, and contains a large diamond ring. She squeals, sliding it along her finger with just as much pride as she did the candy. Pulling me to my feet, she throws her arms around me, embracing me in a tight hug, and over her shoulder I make eye contact with Fallon. My sister offers me a huge grin and a thumbs up, before shooing us both away with her hands. Taking the hint, I take Piper by the hand and lead her out of the lodge and back to the old cabin.

I had it made up just the way it was when we arrived those few weeks ago, figuring that if she said yes, Piper wouldn't want to immediately U-turn and drive all the way back home. I had Fallon pick her out a nice pair of pajamas and a robe downtown, and laid them on the bed for her, alongside a bottle of Champagne in a bucket on the nightstand. The real stuff this time, not the off-brand swill that Fallon's been using on the cruises.

"God, those pajamas look comfortable," she sighs the second we traipse through the door. "Now that I'm thinking about it, I haven't had a good night's sleep in a very long time. Or, a shower for that matter."

Piper grimaces, sniffing at the ends of her hair. "This is embarrassing. And I don't want to ruin the mood, but do you mind if I take a hot shower?"

"Only if you let me join you," I shoot back, noting the blush on her cheeks as she smiles. "It's the resort, you see. Trying to be more sustainable. Really getting into water conservation. It's so hip now."

She laughs, taking me by the hand and dragging me into the bathroom, planting a soft kiss on my lips before she turns the water on and measures the temperature with her hand. I can't get my clothes off fast enough. I don't know how Piper is calm enough right now to fold hers and set them neatly on the counter. She steps behind the shower door, sighing as the water hits her skin. I'm struck by a terribly romantic impulse as I join her, taking the bar of soap from its rest and lathering the suds in my hands. Starting with her shoulders, I begin to rub the bubbles into her skin, working my way down her arms and along her chest, taking great pains to massage the tension out of her back. She melts into my touch, backing into me and letting my hands trail lower, slipping experimentally between her thighs.

As if to answer my unspoken question, she widens her stance, giving me better access, allowing my fingers to slide along the crease of her thighs before coming up to her clit. She hums to herself as I make soft circles along the sensitive flesh, letting her head lean back against my chest as her lips part.

"I love you," she whispers, and I press forward, dipping my fingers inside of her pussy and relishing the way she tilts her hips at the contact. I remember the last time we did this, and how selfishly I took her at the end. I don't want to start things off on that foot again, instead choosing to take my time, letting my touches be gentle and soft. I don't know how long we stay like that, my fingers slowly exploring her, but eventually her body tenses, a small gasp crossing her lips as she comes undone in my hand. I turn her to face me, angling her mouth up toward mine and kissing her with as much care as I can muster. Her own hand drifts between us, her fingertips grazing my erection as it bobs against my stomach.

I guide her backwards, out of the stream of water and back against the tile wall. All of the showers in the resort got converted to standing showers a few years back, with bench seats to be more accessible. I angle her leg upward, and she responds in kind, resting one of her feet on the seat and the other on the floor. She smiles at me as she takes me in her hand, urging me forward and slowly guiding me into her. It's the gentlest we've ever done this, and the anticipation is exquisite. Somewhere between my agonizingly controlled strokes, I'm reminded of the time I walked in on her here, and how self-conscious she was around me then. It's such a sharp contrast with how shameless she is now, stretching herself open for me and planting wet kisses along my chest, that it undoes me on the spot, spasming into her so suddenly and forcefully that my vision dims.

"Sorry," I huff, catching my breath as the water runs in rivulets down my back and along the sides of my face. "I didn't expect to come so soon."

"It's okay," she smiles back, gingerly rotating her ankle as she lifts her leg down from the step. There's still a small smear of soap suds along her temple, and I wipe at it with my thumb. "We have the rest of our lives to fool around."

The thought makes me giddy, my heart swooping against my ribs. "You are so right. I guess this means we don't have to spend a single minute apart now."

"Now you're getting carried away," she laughs with a shake of her head, reaching forward to turn off the water. "Boundaries, Tate? Remember those?"

I open the door to grab a towel, wrapping it around her body as she lifts her arms for me. "Yeah. You're right. I guess we have the rest of our lives to work on those, too."

Looking up at me, she huddles against my chest, trying her best to look exasperated and failing, the joy in her eyes betraying her. "Oh, boy. And you're gonna need every moment you can get, too."

Flashes like this blaze through life—a flash where everything snaps into a crystal-clear focus, blazing with a hope so brilliant it scorches. It's the kind of moment that dazzles, sharp and sweet, and oh-so achingly bright.

I have no plans on wasting a single one.