by Bria Quinlan
Abby gave a deep sigh—probably of relief—and returned to the kitchen.
“You’re the only one who has come in. It’s snowmaggedon out there,” she shouted from the kitchen. “I thought I’d be safe to freeze dough all day.”
“Then what is that scrumptious smell?” I asked, settling into my chair.
“Brownies. They’ll keep overnight.” She dropped into the chair across from me, glancing at the fire.
“Don’t get comfortable. I want a brownie. And hot chocolate.” I gave her a sticky sweet smile hoping we could get right to the chocolatey part of the visit.
“Fine. But, if you wait until you hear a ding, you can have hot brownies.”
This was straight up bribery for her to sit and chill for a bit. But…hot brownies.
“I suppose I can wait.”
Abby got up and went behind the counter. I heard the steamer making its magic noises and the smell of warm milk filled the café. She came back a few moments later, a mug in each hand, and settled back across from me, ignoring the computer on my lap.
“So, how was the party last night?” She took a sip of her milk goodness while I eyed the hot chocolate she’d set in front of me.
I caved to the power of girl talk and milky goodness. It wasn’t like I hadn’t gotten enough work done this week to start eyeing the beginning of actual writing time.
“It was great—except for the part where Gavin’s date had realized who his brother was and was all about us all going on vacation together.”
Abby shook her head, clearly annoyed with the revolving door of users that Gavin seemed to have installed at the front of his apartment. “He can really pick ’em.”
“She wasn’t even good at covering.” I felt the heat rushing up my neck again at the thought. “She even commented on how much they looked alike, as if that wasn’t a dead giveaway.”
Abby stared into the fire, sinking deeper into thought. “We’ve got to find him a woman.”
I grinned, pleased to see that even Abby was feeling protective of Gavin. She’d probably adopted him vicariously through Connor. And, no matter what anyone said, I knew in my gut that Abby was one of the most caring, protective people I’d met. If you were one of her people, she’d go to the mat for you…probably while snarking you out for getting yourself in a position that needed defending, but still.
She’d be there for—
Wait a minute.
I glanced up again.
Gavin was a good guy who needed a good woman who would have his back.
Abby was a secretly sweet woman who needed someone she could care for in her rough and tumble way.
Maybe…
“No.” Abby set her drink down and gave me a very serious look—way too serious for hot chocolate talk.
“What? I didn’t say anything.” I tried to look innocent as if I hadn’t been planning to marry her off to my kind-of brother.
“You didn’t need to. I know how you think.” She picked her drink back up and took a sip, watching me over the rim of the mug. “I’m not marrying Gavin.”
“No one said you had to marry him.” Actually, I hadn’t said anything.
Yet.
“Again, I know how you think.” Abby took another sip that felt a lot like stalling.
“Okay, so I might have been thinking you and Gavin might be a nice match.” It would be a great way to solidify both of them in our lives so neither could accidentally disappear or get left behind. And neither one of them cared that Connor was famous or rich. “But, if Gavin is a no, I won’t mention it again.”
“Gavin is a no.” Abby stated this so definitively that I wanted to know why.
I sat there, all but biting my tongue to not ask. The Ryan boys were great and Abby fit into their lives probably better than I had in the beginning. I glanced at Abby again, suddenly wishing happy things for her—Bringing me back to Gavin.
I thought about my time with Gavin last night, getting a flash of ease when he said Connor and I were soul mates. A flash of rightness and acceptance. The deep knowledge that no matter what people on the outside saw or thought, Connor was it for me. And, no matter what the doubters thought, I was it for him. And that was something that was a big leap in acceptance for me. I was ready to believe that, no matter what, I was Connor’s other half.
Then again…that was true for me, but maybe it wasn’t true for him. I ran through the thought, pushing panic aside to consider that maybe I wasn’t what he needed, that I wouldn’t hold up to the life he led. That he would eventually not want me anymore.
That maybe he was my soul mate but I wasn’t his.
I shook my head. Was that even possible? How stupid was I being?
Of course, I was his soul mate.
I mean, who else would put up with his ego? Who knew that he was secretly a bit of a nerd? That his family would always come first? That while he was cocky as anything he was also secretly unsure about people really loving him? Who got his sense of humor and loved that he was a celebrity gossip hound?
Me. Me, that’s who!
I was Connor’s soul mate!
I needed to marry him. Forget about him figuring things out. If he was going to be Mr. Indecisive, I’d just take the reins on this one.
I snapped my computer shut and set my drink down only to realize that Abby was sitting there watching me wade through the emotional awakening of my future.
“Whatcha doing?” she asked as I slid my computer into my bag.
“I have to go ask Connor to marry me.” Because obviously, now that I’d made a decision, I had to act on it right now.
“Okay.” Abby looked like this wasn’t a big announcement. Like everything in my life hadn’t just changed. Like I wasn’t about to solidify my future with the man of my dreams. “But, maybe let’s take a minute and think about this.”
Or not.
“There’s nothing to think about. I’m going to ask him to marry me. And he can say yes.” Or no. But I wasn’t going to plan for that outcome.
“Of course he’s going to say yes.” Abby smiled at me encouragingly. “I meant, let’s just take a second and do this right. Don’t just barge over there and say Hey! Marry me! I mean, at that level you might as well just text him Wanna get hitched?”
She had a point. This was a big moment. A once in a lifetime moment. I needed to do it right.
“I should maybe get him a ring or something.” I sat back thinking about it. A ring didn’t feel right. Connor wasn’t much of a jewelry guy. But I felt like I should get him something permanent, something that symbolized the import of the moment and that he was promising to be mine.
I stood, pulling on my jacket as I did. Good thing I hadn’t taken off all my layers yet. I’d just throw my boots back on and head off to buy some proposing supplies.
Besides figuring out the proposing gift, I needed to buy some champagne for when he (had better) says yes. And, maybe some of those chocolates from that French deli he liked because they ignored him like a normal person. Or maybe Abby could make us a little cake. What else did a proposing person need?
I’d have to set the scene. Something Mr. America’s Sexiest Athlete would find romantic, and then I’d have to—
“Where do you think you’re going?” Abby glanced toward the door where my boots sat.
“I’m off to buy a ring or something and proposing stuff!” I was almost jumping out of my skin. This was exciting stuff. How often did people propose to their famous boyfriends?
Okay, so I’d seen the pictures of women with Mrs. Connor Ryan t-shirts and MARRY ME, CONNOR! signs at the games. But this is for real. So, I was going with not that often.
“There’s a blizzard out there.” Abby sat back down, obviously expecting me to do the same thing.
“So? I got here, didn’t I?” It was a great day to proposal shop. No one on the roads. I’d be able to get everything I wanted.
“You know not everyone lives above where they work, right? That almost everywhe
re out there is going to be closed. You just lucked out that you came here and my commute is a flight of stairs. Inside.”
Closed. Oh.
Yeah, probably.
Foiled! By Mother Nature no less. Abby pulled out her phone as I fell back into my seat dejected.
I watched her slide through her phone, curious what she was doing, but still trying to plan my proposal so I’d be ready to go when the weather was done being a barrier to my personal bliss.
“Okay,” she said. “I found a jewelry place on Newbury that Google says is open. Let me give them a call.”
She hit call and waited until someone answered. “You’re open?”
Someone murmured on the other end and Abby grinned, giving me a thumbs-up. “The green line isn’t running, so we’re going to be there in about forty-five minutes… Great. Thanks.”
She hung up and shot me a grin.
“We?” I prompted, because I couldn’t help but notice that Abby had included herself in my adventure.
“No one should do something this important by herself. I just need to grab my boots and as soon as the second batch of brownies is done we can go.”
I was about to tell her she really didn’t need to come when she smiled and all but shouted, “This is going to be so great!”
“Who are you and what have you done with Abby?” I leaned in, peering at her. “Emily, is that you in there?”
“Shut up.” Abby headed toward the kitchen and I realized, nope. That wasn’t secretly Emily.
I pulled on my boots as I waited for Abby wondering just what I was going to get at this jeweler. It wasn’t something I’d ever considered. I’d barely thought about what I wanted for my own wedding ring, let alone what I’d do if I were the one proposing.
But Connor deserved something special. Something just between the two of us that he’d love. When Abby joined me, we locked up and headed out.
“The train app says the other line is running. Should we try it?” I pointed a mittened hand in the opposite direction. “It would only be two extra blocks if it isn’t and minus four thousand blocks if it is.”
“Not quite four thousand.” Abby snorted, obviously no wanting to add to our haul.
“With the wind effect we might march in place for awhile and then it would feel like four thousand.”
“All I know is you’re paying for an Uber back since there weren’t any available for the trip there.”
You’d think I was forcing this on her.
We trekked down to the other track and lucked out when the train app turned out not to be lying. After a chilly ten-minute wait that felt like two hours, the train pulled to a stop in front of us. The driver did not look happy to see us, but we paid and headed toward the second car, figuring the glares would be less biting from there.
“I bet if they don’t have rides for a certain time they get to go home.” Abby leaned to the side so that she could see him glaring at us in the mirror.
“That can’t be right. What if there’s an emergency?”
Abby looked at me like I was nuts. I mean, what kind of emergency involved the T?
The writer in me immediately came up with two-bazillion.
When we got to the Copley stop we climbed out, ignoring more glares from the front of the train, and headed up the stairs. Dartmouth Street was no less cold than The Village—maybe colder because of the wind tunnel that Copley Square was. But there were more people milling around here. Even the drug store was open and apparently the place to be.
As we headed toward Newbury, I started getting warm. Then hot. Then absolutely sweating.
This wasn’t that hard of a walk since most of the sidewalks had been cleared at least once since the snow started.
When I unbuttoned my jacket, Abby looked at me like I was nuts.
I couldn’t believe how hot I was. Sweat started trickling out from under my hat. I stopped and sucked in a breath, trying to cool down and get my heart rate under control.
“What’s wrong with you? You’re not having a heart attack or something?” Abby took her mitten off and felt my head…which I’m not sure how that would have helped if I were having a heart attack.
I kept trying to slow my breathing, but it was coming in harsh, heavy kicks. It was making my chest hurt with icy cold air.
“Okay.” Abby pulled me into a doorway. “Let’s just take a minute here and not die.”
“I’m okay.” I was the healthiest of all of us if I did say so myself, so I refused to be the first to die. Unless it was some fluke like a crate of gold falling out of a charter plane making its escape to a small country that didn’t extradite to the US.
We stood there—me breathing, Abby looking like she was going to call an ambulance. Or worse—Max.
“Let’s just chill here,” she said. “Or, that Starbucks around the corner on Newbury is always open. They might accidentally kill us with burnt coffee or mass produced baked goods, but they’re open.”
Leave it to Abby to be more upset about a café chain during my whatever-this-was than the fact that I was dying.
I was just thinking maybe I should take off my jacket when my phone rang.
Darth Vader’s Imperial March theme.
Connor.
I pulled it out of my pocket and answered it, ignoring Abby’s disbelieving stare.
“Hello?”
“Hails! Can you believe all this snow? It’s great, right?” One thing I loved about Connor was that when it was just the two of us he could get excited about anything. He could be just a big kid.
“It is.” I felt my entire body relax as he chatted on. I uh-huh’d and mh-hmm’d at all the right places until he started to wrap it up.
“I know you said you’re writing this week. Just checking in before Nick and I head out.”
How sweet was that?
Wait.
“Where are you and Nick going?” Because the two of them out in a snowstorm had the potential for disaster.
“Oh, you know. Just running some errands.”
“Almost everything is closed,” I pointed out, hoping to keep those two in. Or at the very least, making sure they called Mac to drive them instead of attempting it themselves.
“Right. We’ll call ahead.” Which meant he’d have Nick call ahead. But, whatever.
“Oh, have fun.” There was one thing I’d learned—when Connor got something in his head, he was pretty much going to do it. And now that he had Nick as an assistant-slash-sidekick-slash-bromance buddy, I saw fewer and fewer moments of talking him down.
I hung up, feeling like somehow everything was right in the world again. My heart was slowing, I could breath—I was cold.
I tucked my phone away, ready to head back out. Another moment of clarity sweeping over me and brushing the panic away. Sure this was a big step, but it was the right one—the best one. My heart rate jumped again, but this time with anticipation, excitement pumping through me.
“Okay.” I turned to Abby. “Let’s do this.”
28
We got to the jewelers and weren’t surprised to find it empty except for an older gentleman and a young woman sitting behind the counter, both of them reading.
When the bell over the door rang, they each looked up and the older gentleman gave us a kind smile.
“I was wondering if you’d really show up.” He stood and walked down the glass counter to meet us near the door. “But it’s letting up out there, so we figured we’d stay open since people will start to get cabin fever soon. I’m Jonathan.”
“Hi, Jonathan, I’m Hailey and this smiling ball of cheer is Abby.” I reached over the counter to shake his hand, feeling like this was already going well.
An empty store, a kind older gentleman, Abby to keep it real. Good plan.
“So, what can we help you with that you felt the need to come out in a snowstorm for?”
I glanced around, still unsure what I should buy but knowing after hearing Connor’s voice a few moments ago that, no matte
r what, I was doing the right thing.
“I’m proposing and I need a proposing gift.” It sounded less silly as he smiled and nodded. “I’m not sure what I want, but something that he’ll like.”
“Of course. I’m sure we can find something.” Jonathan stepped down the counter toward the back of the room again leading us around the corner to where there was a collection of men’s accessories and gifts. “We have a fairly wide collection of men’s items. Some of the most typical gifts are, of course, a ring and a watch. Another option is cufflinks, but those can be tricky if your guy doesn’t wear shirts that need cufflinks. There’s always the option of an embossed leather band, something he can wear daily on his wrist. It’s a bit more casual, but it wouldn’t replace the specialness of a wedding ring when you say your vows.”
That was a lot to think about. But he seemed ready to walk us through it, so I figured, until something struck me, I was just along for the proposal gift buying tour.
He motioned to the two cases with the corresponding pieces in them. I glanced over the rings.
I couldn’t see Connor wearing an engagement ring. I figured when we got married he’d probably wear a thick, plain gold band, something I’d probably have to put a tracking device on so he didn’t lose it when he took it off to play.
So, probably not a ring.
I glanced at Abby to get her take. She shook her head, echoing my no.
Plus, I’m not going to lie. I still kind of wanted him to get me a ring. Or to go get a ring with him.
I moved toward the watches.
This was a better bet, but I still wasn’t sure.
“We have a wide selection of watches to choose from.” Jonathan opened the back of the case with a little key and pulled out a few velvet-lined trays. “You can see that we can do a traditional gold watch with a gold band, or something in platinum. We also have some very nice timepieces with leather bands. Still as nice, just for a man who prefers leather.”
I studied each group, not feeling anything click yet.
“We also have a small selection of pocket watches,” he went on when I didn’t jump at anything.
“Ohhh.” He obviously had Abby’s attention as she leaned to look at the pocket watches through the glass.