I laughed softly at the use of my full name, feeling a joy so profound it was almost painful. “And I am one hundred percent, absolutely, totally in love with you, Liam Callahan.”
The sun was low, casting long shadows from the trees across the stone patio. The light was warm and golden. The heat of the day had begun to fade. I focused on the carrot on the cutting board, my grip awkward on the knife handle.
The crunch of gravel under boots came from behind me. I didn't turn around. A moment later, his arms circled my waist. His chest was warm against my back. He bent his head and pressed his lips against the side of my neck, just below my ear. Once. Then again. A small, quiet kiss.
I forced my attention back to the carrot. I lined up the knife. His lips moved to a new spot, and a shiver went straight down my spine. My next chop was more of a thud.
“You’re distracting me,” I managed, giving a weak elbow nudge against his side.
He chuckled.
“Instead of distracting me,” I said, setting the knife down and turning in his arms just enough to look at him, “teach me the right way to julienne these things. I’m massacring them.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Gladly.” He leaned down and pressed a quick, soft kiss to my lips before turning me back to face the counter.
His hands slid from my waist and picked up the knife and the other carrot.
“Like this,” he said, his voice low. He demonstrated the quick, precise cuts, turning the carrot into neat, matchstick-sized pieces. He set the knife down and picked up my half-chopped carrot. His hands covered mine, one on the carrot, one over my fingers on the knife handle.
“Guide the blade with your knuckles,” he murmured, his voice close to my ear. He moved our hands together. The knife made a clean, sharp sound against the wood with each slice. I could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing. I could smell the sun and fresh herbs on his skin from the garden.
I stopped trying to chop and just let my hands rest in his. For a long moment, we just stood there, his chest against my back, his chin resting on my shoulder, our hands together on the counter. The only sound was the distant buzz of a bee in the lavender.
“So, what are we cooking tonight?” I asked, not looking up.
He grabbed a towel and dried his hands. “Actually, I don’t know.”
I paused mid-slice. “You don’t know?”
“I ran into Maggie at the main house earlier,” he said, walking over to the picnic table. “She told me we’ll get whatever her butcher has that’s fresh.”
He smiled and shook his head. “She said he’d be here by five. So… any minute now.”
I set the knife down and glanced toward the garden. “Wow. This feels like one of those cooking shows Sophie and Emma like to watch. You know, where the chef gets handed a box of mystery ingredients and has to make dinner out of it."
“Exactly.” He nudged my hip with his. “Let’s take a break. Come sit with me. We can watch the sunset.”
I started to sit, but Liam caught my hand.
“Claire, wait,” he said.
His voice was different. Softer. The playful tone from a second ago was gone. All the ease had vanished from his face.
“There really was one thing I was hoping for my birthday,” he said.
I turned to face him.
His hand went to the pocket of his jeans. When it came back out, he was holding a small, square, dark-blue velvet box.
This isn’t happening.
My hands flew to my mouth. A single tear escaped down my cheek.
He opened the box. One perfect diamond sat on a platinum band. On either side, two smaller sapphires were set lower into the band.
He lifted the ring from its velvet bed. “Three stones. Just like the three stars in Orion’s Belt.”
My favorite constellation. The one that reminds me of him.
