The B&B was a little inn called Scripps Inn, and while it wasn’t right on the beach, which would have cost an arm and a leg more than Marston could afford, it was close enough to it and the views were amazing. It was also a long way away from constant temperatures of twenty degrees below zero, a never-ceasing wind howling from the west off Guipago Ridge, and a horizon of trees coated in at least a foot of white snow at all times.
At first, he’d just thought to create a nice little getaway for just the two of them. Up at the ranch, Gabe and Blaze had promised to look after the livestock for a few days, so they were free of obligations to the valley. Then he’d found Scripps Inn, and when he managed to snag their nicest room, a king suite with the hot tub on the balcony overlooking the ocean, his mind suddenly shouted at him, as if desperately trying to wake him up from the soundest sleep.
He saw himself on one knee in front of Kell, holding out a little velvet box—a little velvet box that was open, with a sparkling gold band inside.
In this fanciful dream, Kell, his eyes alight like green jewels, had pressed his palms to his chest as if in an attempt to keep his heart from escaping. And in response to Marston’s question, his voice, of course, being strong and sure, Kell had said yes.
Everything was planned, and all the reservations were made, including upgraded seats on United, an Uber to pick them up from the airport, and a bucket of champagne on ice, upon their arrival, and a bowl of fresh strawberries to go with it.
The only thing that would throw a wrench in the works was if yet another blizzard came, and not only grounded all the planes, but made it impossible to get out of the valley, even on a snowmobile.
That would make a disaster out of the trip, though Marston knew, he truly did, that it didn’t mean the proposal wouldn’t happen. Still, he wanted it to be perfect so he and Kell could share the memory of that moment.
Dragging himself back to the current moment, Marston focused on the task at hand, which was putting away the groceries, and sweeping the fast-melting snow out through the door that Kell held open for him. Then they could heat up the meatloaf and the Mac-n-cheese and snuggle on the plush couch in front of the TV that hung on the opposite wall. And, also, out of the corner of their eyes, they could watch the snow continue to come down, swirling around as the darkness came down.
When they finished with dinner, and were standing hip-to-hip while doing dishes, he elbows deep in suds, Kell on drying duty, Kell asked, “So do I have to wait for my treat? Or can I have it now?”
For a moment, Marston blinked, wondering how in the hell Kell had guessed about Marston’s plans? Then he realized that Kell was focusing on the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, which were currently stowed in the freezer until they could reach an appropriate amount of frozenness.
“Do we have to save them?” asked Kell as he hung the dishtowel over the little expandable drying rack over the sink. “Or is now good? We could watch some TV and eat them all—”
“Now is good,” said Marston, pulling Kell in for a good long hug, his heart jumping in his chest.
Tomorrow wasn’t a certainty. It never had been. As his chin brushed against Kell’s silky dark hair, his arms around Kell’s slender waist, he knew that the only moment that mattered was the one they were living in. And that he shouldn’t wait. Not for anything, and especially not for love.
“You go sit,” he said, urging Kell toward the couch, reaching for the clicker to place it in Kell’s hands as though he was handing over a talisman. “And here.” He reached inside the freezer and, in two steps, had handed over two long wrappers of Reece’s Peanut Butter Cups. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?” asked Kell.
His voice carried in the stove-warmed air as Marston took the short flight of steps, four steps, each with a little compartment for storage, up to their bedroom.
Going over to the dresser, he blindly reached beneath his socks for the little velvet box, still in its velvet bag. He pulled out the box and held it to his chest as he breathed deeply in and out, his heart hopping, ears ringing.
Now was good. There was no point in waiting.
If Kell said yes—and surely he would?—then they could plan the wedding together. Even keeping most of the details of their San Diego trip a secret had become a burden to his soul, though it had been a good idea in the beginning.
Now, he wanted Kell’s input as to dinner reservations, whether the Uber was too much, and they should just take an airport shuttle, the one that went from the airport to La Jolla Beach. If indeed he’d simply spent too much—
“Marston?”
Marston turned to see Kell standing in the doorway, sock footed, his hands on each side of the open doorway.
“What are you doing up here?” Kell asked. Then, pointing a thumb over his shoulder, he said, “I’ve paused Netflix for us. Thought we could watch something about aliens.”
“Yeah.” Marston swallowed, hoping to disguise the roughness in his voice. He could barely catch his breath, especially as Kell came up to him and reached for Marston’s clasped hands.
“A special kind of candy?” asked Kell.
As he unfolded Marston’s fingers to reveal the little velvet box, his eyes went wide, two green pools of amazement.
“What is this?” Kell asked, his lips barely moving.
Marston went to his knees, all the air grabbed from his lungs, heart pounding, but his hands were steady as he lifted the box with one hand and opened it with the other.
“Kell Dodson,” he said, in a clear voice that didn’t quite sound like his own. “Will you marry me? Marry me and make me the happiest man in the whole world?”
A gasp rang in his ears as Kell fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around Marston’s neck, hard.
