Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 146548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Coming up to a lagoon, we slow to a stop. I’ve seen a lot of breathtaking views in my life, but what we reach is fucking majestic. An azure waterfall plunges into a crystal clear, bottomless pool. Mossy stones isolate the oasis, and light dances between the leaves of a sweeping plane tree overhead. Glittering the swimming pond.
“Wow,” Farrow says first, and he pulls off the backpack, setting it on the ground.
Water mists the air and sprays my cheeks. Refreshingly cool. And that deep pond has to be cold, but I’d still swim in it with Farrow.
Near the edge of the green-blue water, I squat down and untie my hiking boot. I’m trying not to overthink here. Just feel what I feel, and it’ll come to me.
And honest to God, as Farrow crouches only a foot in front of me and unzips the backpack, a dragonfly flutters past his shoulders, and then zips past his face.
He’s only watching me. His smile stretching from cheek-to-cheek like he’s fully aware that I’m in love with this place, this damn moment, him.
I lick my lips, not breaking our gazes while I unknot my boot. “I think we’ve made it to Neverland.”
“Neverland,” Farrow repeats, looking me up and down with amusement. His hand descends into the backpack. “Don’t lost boys stay young forever there?”
“Yeah.” I loosen my lace, his eyes swimming against my eyes.
“That’s too bad then,” Farrow says matter-of-factly. “Because I want to grow old with you.”
The strong promise inside those words floods my whole body. I want to grow old with you. It floods my eyes.
I want to grow old with you.
Staying crouched, I’m about to speak, but words catch in my throat as his tattooed hand leaves the backpack. He’s holding a small wooden box.
Farrow lowers his knee to the mossy stone.
Is he…?
Before I say anything, he cups one side of my face with a protective, affectionate hand, and he tilts his head towards my other cheek, his jaw gliding along my jaw.
Until his lips brush softly against my ear.
And very deeply, he whispers, “You’ve been my forever guy. You are my forever guy, wolf scout.” His breath warms my skin, and I curve my bicep around his shoulders, staying close. Hanging on.
Listening to every intimate word as he continues, “And you said you wanted an in-your-face, overjoyed kind of love that knocks you backwards.” He takes a beat. “But our love is that and better. Our love is headstrong. It never yields, never dies. And when it knocks you backwards, it pulls you upright again.”
I pinch my burning eyes, and his hand tightens on my cheek.
I feel his smile rise against my ear, his voice gravel tied in silk as he says, “I promise to give you everything you need and nothing less. Never less. Maximoff…” He draws his head back, just enough for us to look at each other.
My hand falls off my eyes and onto his bent knee. We’re eye-level since I’m crouching, my boot half untied. I don’t know why the fuck I think about that.
His hand runs up through my thick hair, our reddened, welled-up eyes excavating each other.
I’m smiling. For real. I can’t restrain it. I don’t want to. Not now.
He sees, and his own smile stretches wider and wider. He nods a few times, and he whispers, “You want to marry the fuck out of me?”
I nod just as assured, just as overcome. “Yeah.” I reach into my back pocket and pull out a black ring box. “I want to.”
Farrow laughs in surprise, a tear escapes the corner of his eye. Really overwhelmed.
“You had no idea I planned to do this today,” I realize. I thought maybe he got word this morning since I told everyone about the proposal plan at breakfast, including my dad. My mom and Jane kept the secret, so pretty much everyone found out hours ago.
“None.” He wipes his eyes. “But I’m not shocked that I beat you to it.”
“Because I overthink.”
Farrow laughs once, eyeing my smile. “Because you can’t be first at everything, wolf scout.”
It hits me that I’ll hear him tell me that for the rest of our lives. And then it washes over me. Fills me to the brim.
And we rise to our feet together.
Both of us standing close, I hold the back of his neck, and our heads dip towards each other. “Since you beat me to it, does this mean I can’t ask—”
“Ask me,” Farrow says strongly, and I hear the unsaid words: there are no rules, Maximoff.
I blink, and a couple tears slide down my face. And I just say, “There’s no one else, Farrow. You’re it. You’re the one, the only one.”
His chest rises against my chest, and he nods, knowing.
Feeling.
And I ask him, “Marry me?”
“Yeah,” he says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “I’ll marry you, wolf scout.”