December 17—near Honey Hill, Maine
Liv was watching Spencer as he prepared dinner. It was snowing lightly but the forecast was for only a couple of inches of fresh snow. Spencer would have no problem getting to Wolfe Lodge in the morning and Liv planned to ride into town with him. She and Jane, the keeper of the bees, were making dried flower garlands for Lexi’s wedding the following Sunday. They’d gathered and painted tree branches, and the entire process of decorating for the wedding was a lot more time-consuming than Liv had expected.
It was kind of fun, though.
And it made Liv think about her own future.
As had become their habit, she met Spencer in the kitchen of his cabin after he’d served dinner at the lodge and they had a late meal together. Although Spencer had been teaching her to cook, mostly on the weekends, during the week, he always had a plan. He said it was faster for him to cook and her to watch, and he always poured them each a glass of wine before he started to mise en place. As he worked that night, he told her about the deliveries for Lexi and Gabe’s wedding reception, and again expressed his concern that the free-range turkeys might be too small to serve all the guests. Liv tried to reassure him, but knew already that he was a perfectionist about the meals he served.
Lexi and Gabe’s wedding feast was one that Spencer wanted to get just right.
He was making chicken tonight, with a tomato herb sauce. He had fresh pasta from the woman who regularly delivered it to the lodge. The chicken had already been seasoned and browned and was sitting in a dish on the back of the stove. It smelled delicious.
Liv was amazed that she wasn’t getting fat, just living with this man, but then, they did get a fair bit of aerobic exercise later each night. That made her smile as she sipped her wine and gathered her nerve.
It would have been a lot easier to ask if she hadn’t already turned him down once.
“What’s up?” Spencer asked, obviously noticing her smile.
Liv liked how observant he was. “I’ve been thinking,” she said and his smile broadened. He was dicing onions really fast so she was glad he didn’t look up. That long knife flashed and she knew it was sharp. He always diced the onions last even though he often cooked them first.
“Doing what you do best.” The onions went into the skillet and began to sizzle.
“Best?” She echoed, wanting to tease him. “I think there are other things I do well enough for them to be contenders for first place.”
She earned a very intent look for that, one that made her blush to her toes because she knew what he was thinking. “I won’t argue with that,” he murmured. He stirred the onions and added the garlic. “But you are the brains of the operation.”
“I could argue that.”
“You could, but you’d lose. You’re brilliant, Olivia. I’m not.”
It was so refreshing that he was at ease with his abilities, especially in comparison to hers. Liv had been with guys who had been threatened by her intellect. The special thing about Spencer was that he made her feel more human and her life more rounded. “Don’t underestimate yourself. I couldn’t run a restaurant.”
Spencer scoffed. “Right back at you. You’d probably run a tighter inventory than I do.”
“But you do other things that I can’t, like cook.”
“You’re learning.”
“I’ll never be as good with food as you are.”
That made him smile again. “Is it a problem that we have different strong suits?” The diced tomatoes went into the pan and he turned down the temperature, stirring and watching. She knew he was still listening to her, though.
This was the perfect opening. “No, it’s really not,” she said, her tone much more serious even though she hadn’t planned it that way. She was just nervous and her words came out wrong.
Spencer noticed the difference immediately and pivoted to look at her, proof that she’d been right about him listening. “What’s wrong?” he asked with concern. The sauce was simmering too hard, even Liv knew that, and she pointed to the pan behind him. He swore, lifted it off the burner and turned off the stove. He came to the other side of the island and leaned on it to look at her. “Tell me.”
“There’s nothing wrong...”
He lifted a brow.
“I just want to say something, to ask something, and it’s important so I’m screwing it up.” Liv reached for her wine but Spencer plucked the glass out of her hand, setting it aside.
“You can have it back when you’re going to appreciate it,” he said, then met her gaze again. His tone softened. “What’s wrong, Olivia?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“You can tell me, you know. You have to know that by now.” He leaned on the counter, wary. “We agreed that we could give it more time. I’m still good with that. I’m not trying to rush you.”
“I know.” Liv held up a hand when he would have argued with her. “Nothing’s wrong, Spencer. Everything is right.”
His eyes narrowed. “And that’s a problem?”
“It’s not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“That it would diminish. That we’d be less hot for each other and that our conversations would become less frequent and less interesting, and that we’d move into some kind of sustainable pattern of being together that was fine but not fabulous. I mean, the bar was pretty high. I thought it was too good between us and it couldn’t last, that it couldn’t stay so, so...hot.” She took a breath. “So good. So potent.”
Spencer didn’t move. He didn’t even blink.
“So when you asked me to marry you before, I thought it was too soon. I thought we were still in the bubble of the good stuff and that things would fizzle, even before we got to a wedding. That’s why I said no, even though I wanted to say yes.”
“But?”
“But I was wrong. It’s still as good as it was in the beginning. In fact, that’s not true—it’s better.” She looked at him and he nodded once in agreement. She flung out her hands. “It keeps getting better. It makes no sense. I keep missing you more during the day. I like making love to you more each time. I can’t imagine not being with you. But nothing can expand infinitely. I keep thinking there has to be a limit and that it’s going to be hell when we reach it.”
“Aha,” he said.
“Aha?”
“So, you feel vulnerable and you don’t like that, so that’s why you’re dumping me.” He frowned, exhaled and turned back to the stove. He moved the skillet and turned on the burner with a gesture that was more savage than it needed to be.
“I’m not dumping you,” Liv said, astonished that he could make such a conclusion.
“But you’re moving out,” he concluded, his disappointment obvious. “I love you, Olivia, and I love being with you, but I’m not going to be an asshole about this. If you want to slow things down, or even if you want to end it, I love you enough to want you to be happy—with or without me.” He added the herbs and stirred, then slid the browned chicken into the sauce. She waited until he put the lid on the pan, even though the tension between them was almost unbearable, and waited for him to face her again. His expression was impassive and he folded his arms across his chest, remaining by the stove as he surveyed her.
“I’m not moving out,” Liv said firmly, wanting to get them out of danger. She eased off the stool and walked around the island, entering the sacred area of the kitchen that was his domain. “I don’t even want to slow things down.” She stopped right in front of him and tipped back her head to hold his gaze. She could smell his skin and feel the heat emanating from him, and the intensity in his gaze made her think of things they could do while dinner cooked.
“What then?” he said softly.
“I think I might be wrong, so I’d like to propose an experiment.”
“An experiment, like this is some kind of science project or a clinical test? Olivia! This isn’t a game! It’s our lives!” He pushed his hand through his hair and would have turned away, but she put a hand on his arm and he froze.
“I hypothesize that there is something different about love, that it can, in fact, grow beyond all anticipated boundaries and continue to grow after that. It might, in fact, be limitless. I want to test the viability of an emotional bond over a lifetime—at least forty years but ideally more—under the additional constraint of a legal bond between the two parties.”
He blinked. “What?”
Liv smiled. “Will you marry me, Spencer?”
He stared at her for a minute, then relief flickered into his gaze. “Just to prove that pair-bonding is sustainable and that love can continue to grow?”
“I think other people have proven that. I want to prove that our pair-bond is sustainable—and even that it’s good for us.” She swallowed. “I want to prove that love can become stronger over time, if the right pair-bond is chosen.” She slid her hand up his arm, but he stepped away from her.
She’d been so sure of him.
Was he going to turn her down?
If so, it would be her own fault for declining his proposal the first time.
Panic flickered in her heart. What would she do without Spencer in her life? He was the constant one, the steady one, the predictable one. He was her rock and her anchor. What if he didn’t want her anymore? The prospect made her dizzy.
He went to the bedroom and came back with something small in his hand. He smiled at her, looking a bit uncertain himself, then dropped to one knee before her. He opened his hand to reveal a black ring box. “I was going to ask you again at Christmas,” he confessed and her heart sang with relief.
“But I want to be married before Christmas, so that would be too late.”
“What’s the sudden rush?”
“I want to be married first of the three of us, since I got the secret heart tattoo first. I want to be your wife at Lexi’s wedding. I don’t care if anyone else knows. I want to know that we’re together for good.”
“You’re sure, then.”
“I was sure before, just too chicken-shit to believe it.”
“We can get the license tomorrow and be married by the end of the week by the Justice of the Peace, if that’s what you want.”
“That would be perfect! I don’t care who’s there, just us. Maybe my mom.” Liv’s throat was tight when Spencer slipped the ring onto her hand. It was a wide silver band with bees engraved on it. She turned it on her finger, examining it. “I love it! It’s so beautiful! There’s another one for you, right?”
He nodded and stood up, pulling her close. Liv couldn’t imagine anywhere else she wanted to be. “This week?” he said, apparently still surprised.
“This week,” she agreed, stretching to her toes to brush her mouth across his. “Then you’ll be stuck with me forever.”
“I can’t imagine anything better,” he murmured before he claimed her lips with a kiss. Liv wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, happier than she’d ever been in her life. The little heart tattoo seemed to hum approval, almost like a bee in clover, and she smiled into his kiss, knowing she was exactly where she needed to be.
Forever.