“Of course not. Just no phones at dinner. Will you make me the happiest pornographer in all of West Hollywood and Christmas Notch, Vermont, Steph? Will you marry me?” Then Teddy Ray Fletcher reached into the pocket of his Homer Simpson pajama pants and took out a ring box holding the exact ring that was stuck on my finger just a few days ago.
On the screen of my phone, Angel rested his head on Luca’s shoulder as Luca fanned at his glistening eyes.
Steph pulled Teddy to his feet. “We both know that you don’t have any good knees.” She nodded. “Yes. Yes, I will marry you, Theodore Ray Fletcher. You have a deal.”
Teddy slipped the ring on her finger and swung Steph in a circle before lowering her into a romantic dip and kissing her right there in front of the Christmas tree.
The house was fuller than I’d ever seen it. There was a Santa in the entryway with a line that was equal parts children and North Pole dancers.
I stood with Jenna in the library while Charlie waited in the Santa line with Gretta. Meanwhile, Ruth cornered Winnie near the stairs, asking her for all the behind-the-scenes Hope Channel tea. Steph held court with several helpless Hope Channel crew members in the living room and regaled them with the tale of how she had turned around the careers of two of the three members of INK and that Isaac Kelly was next, now that he’d reluctantly consented to be her client. Teddy watched with adoration and kept her glass full.
It was all shockingly perfect. It was a moment I wanted to bottle and give to everyone I met in microdoses. But I guessed I would have to settle for penning a script about three horny lovebirds and the way two of them had found a way to move past tragedy.
Isaac waved at me as he slipped past the crowd toward the back of the house, and I waved back. He’d done so good tonight with all the people and all the small talk. He probably just needed a moment of quiet. I was so proud of my sexy hermit.
Jenna leaned over and whispered in my ear, “He is very pretty.”
I nodded. “The whole sad thing really does it for me. Do me a favor?” I asked. “Could you make sure Ruth isn’t trying to convince Winnie to break any NDAs while I go check on Isaac?”
“I’m on it,” Jenna said.
I wove through the crowd and past Bee and Luca, who were performing their favorite INK choreography while Nolan and Kallum judged their efforts with makeshift cocktail-napkin scorecards.
I found Isaac right where I knew I would: sitting in his studio, with Mr.Tumnus curled in his lap.
“I guess a padded room is a good place to find some peace and quiet,” I said.
He beckoned me toward him, and his hand traced the outline of my hip. I was wearing a fitted forest green velvet wrap dress that clung to every dip and curve. But Isaac, he wrecked me with his man bun and his black slacks and black button-up shirt with the two top buttons left open, his sleeves rolled up so I could study those perfect wrists of his. So wristy.
“Can I show you something?” he asked.
“Does it involve shutting that door and locking us in?” I asked.
“Not this time,” he said, which meant there definitely would be a time in the near future.
Isaac stood and Mr.Tumnus immediately claimed his chair.
Holding my hand, he led me to the detached carriage house turned garage, which I’d never even been inside of. “Did you get me lawn equipment?” I asked. “An electric drill?”
“Don’t ruin the surprise,” Isaac said as he flipped the light switch on.
It was cold in here, but his arms curled around me, and he whispered, “Look.”
And standing right there in Isaac Kelly’s garage was an old photo booth that looked startlingly familiar.
“Isaac,” I said, as he rested his chin atop my head. “Do my eyes deceive me or is that the same photo booth where—”
“I shredded a hole in your pretty little tights and we took the pictures to prove it? Yes, it is.”
I couldn’t help but laugh as I spun around in his arms to see him. “Is it really? Did you buy it?”
“I had to have it,” he said. “The photos weren’t enough.”
I shook my head. “But—when?”
“The very next day,” he said simply. “I should have known then. I don’t know how I didn’t, but now it’s so clear to see. I loved you then, Sunny Palmer. I love you now. And I will love you for as long as you’ll have me.”
“I love you too,” I told him. Those words would never get old. They’d always feel fresh and exciting and terrifying. “Isaac?”
