“This way,” he says, “everything that I’d like in our lives is properly represented. I was going to use color pencils, but that would have taken too long. Plus I didn’t want to mix them with crayons. It’s not a kindergarten art project.”
“Definitely not. It’s far too serious.” I try not to giggle as I imagine the little toddler Noah working with crayons to draw something pretty for his mother. Or the teacher he had a baby crush on. “Why don’t you explain what this picture is supposed to represent?”
He puts a hand on my shoulder and points. “Okay, so the couple in the center? That’s us—married. Your wedding gown. All white and pretty.”
“Where’s the ring?” I tease a little since he was so adamant about buying me a suitable ring at Peery Diamonds.
“Over there.” He points to the flying sapphire ring. “A blue diamond stone because you seem very partial to that.”
I blink slowly. “That rock is totally not drawn to scale. It looks as big as my fist.”
“Nah, just your thumbnail, maybe. You can find one that large, no problem. And I plan to get one so everyone knows you’re mine, and how much I value you.” He lifts my hand and kisses the back, his lips warm and firm. His eyes are on mine, shining with earnestness. Hope stirs, dancing in my heart like a little fairy under the moon. “Bobbi, I’ll lay the world at your feet if you’ll just give me a chance.”
He is charming his way back into my heart, so effortlessly. But I’m not ready to fully accept him yet, not after what he’s put me through.
I sniff. “Why are we surrounded by ghosts?”
“Ghosts? Where?”
“There.” I point to the white blobs circling us and the strollers.
His jaw drops. “Those are calla lilies!”
“Calla lilies don’t get as big as strollers.”
“They’re for our wedding.” His cheeks are slightly flushed. “As for the size, put enough of them together and they’ll make a sort of, you know…corsage that’s that large.”
Laughing, I lay my forehead on his shoulder. He’s surprisingly cute and vulnerable. “What about the cupcakes and croissants?”
“Your career as a baker.”
“I don’t bake flying cupcakes.”
“It’s, like, allegorical. They represent soaring success.” There’s such a deep level of faith and humor in his tone.
I laugh again.
“I thought it looked better than having Bobbi’s Sweet Things buried under a giant pile of money,” he says. “I tried that, but it ended up looking like somebody moved your bakery to a pot farm.”
I’m to the point of wiping tears from my eyes. “And that brooding gothic mansion?”
He frowns. “Gothic? Does it look gothic to you? That’s the Malibu house.”
I lean closer. “Your place is not on a cliff.”
“That’ssand.”
I shake my head, then giggle. “It’s a good thing you’re independently wealthy.”
“Agreed,” he says sincerely, good humor sparkling in his gorgeous eyes. “I thought you might like living there better. It’s on the beach, which, see, is represented bythat sand there, and bigger. The kitchen’s pretty impressive too.”
“With a much prettier floor.”
“That too.” His expression softens. “But if your commute is too sucky, we can live here.”
The offer is surprising. I know how amazing his house is. “You want to downgrade to here?”
“It’s an upgrade if I get to be with you. Plus we could buy a house we like better. Or I can just buy you a helicopter and you can use that for the commute.”
