An empty threat, but it worked.
I patted my jeans pocket, my heart thudding against my ribcage. “Thanks so much for coming out today. You guys fucking rock.”
Deafening applause broke out. I waited for it to abate, flicking a glance over my shoulder. Erin nodded in encouragement.This is it.
“It’s been a tough year, and as has been widely reported, a few months ago, my recovery slipped. I ended up in the hospital, then had a six-week stint in rehab. While I was there, I wrote a lot of songs, all of which made it onto the album. Except one. The one I’m about to sing for you right now.”
A hum rippled through the crowd. I jammed the microphone into the stand and walked to the edge of the stage. I slid my fingers through Aspen’s.
“What are you doing?”
I didn’t answer, simply tugged her onto the stage. “Guys, this is Aspen Kingcaid, CEO of my music label, and the love of my life.”
If I thought the earlier applause was deafening, it had nothing on this. Aspen flushed bright red and muttered something about violent payback. I grinned, waiting for the crowd to fall quiet again. Sixty seconds later, they were still screaming and hollering. It took another half a minute before there was enough silence for me to be heard.
A stagehand appeared with two stools and an acoustic guitar. Once Aspen had sat down, I perched on the edge of my stool and slung the guitar strap over my shoulder.
“This is for you, Spitfire.”
I played a second song I’d written especially for her—one I’d kept back for this specific occasion. Even then, I’d known this moment would come, that Aspen and I were forever.
My woman wasn’t one to shed many tears, but her eyes glistened as I sang about soul mates and saviors, and a fiery purple-haired woman who’d handed my arse to me on a wet London afternoon.
I played the last note to thunderous applause, but as I lifted the guitar over my head and propped it against the side of the stool, then dropped to one knee, one hundred thousand people fell silent.
Aspen’s hand flew to her chest, and her mouth popped open. I delved into my jeans pocket and opened the navy-blue velvet box. Inside, nestled among cream satin, was a ring I’d had specially made. A single teardrop diamond surrounded by twenty amethyst stones the exact color of Aspen’s hair.
“Joz.” A single word, strangled, shocked, raw with emotion.
I removed the ring from the box and reached for her left hand. “I’m not going to make a huge speech. The song I just sang told you how I feel. All I’ll say is that the day I met you, my life took on new meaning. Every day with you is an adventure and, if you’ll have me, I cannot wait to share the rest of my life with you. Aspen, will you marry me?”
The earlier tears she’d held back fell, a river of them dampening her cheeks. “Yes,” she whispered.
I pushed the ring on her finger, and the crowd erupted. I got to my feet, cupped Aspen’s face in my hands and, in front of my fans, I sealed our engagement with a kiss that would undoubtedly make headlines around the world, but I didn’t care. I wanted every corner of this globe to know how fucking happy I was. Not even the gutter press could rob me of this joy.
I waved to the crowd, then led my fiancée off the stage. Arthur reacted the fastest, flinging himself at us. The rest of myfamily crowded around, hugging and kissing and asking when the wedding would be.
“If it was up to me, I’d marry her right now.” I dropped a kiss on top of Aspen’s head. “But Aspen’s family will probably murder me if they don’t get to see her walk down the aisle.”
“Oh, yeah, my dad would kill you for sure. Besides, we’ll have to see where we can fit it in between shows. You have a world tour and an album to promote.”
I chuckled. “I should be offended you’re trying to squeeze the happiest day of our life in between concerts.”
“But you’re not, because you know me.”
“Yeah,” I said, voice like gravel. “I do.”
“We should go out for a celebratory dinner,” Erin said.
I trailed my fingers down Aspen’s spine. “Count us out. The celebration I have in mind will be in private.”
“TMI,” Erin said, screwing up her nose.
“Leave him alone,” Mum said, winking. “He’s in love.”
“And this is where we leave.” I ruffled Arthur’s hair and promised him we’d come and see him soon. His bottom lip wobbled, but Aspen’s swift interjection with a promise to take him to London Zoo at the earliest opportunity avoided tears.
It took another five minutes before we were able to climb into my car and shut out all the noise. Aspen gazed at the ring sparkling on her left hand, gently running her thumb over the jewels.
