because I was never sure any of them were the one I could give myself to forever."
"Forever is—"
"Unreasonable." She shrugged. "I know, but that's what I want. The man I pick is going to be forever, because I believe marriage isn't something you play with."
"Nicole," Grif said quietly, "I've loved you forever, and I'll keep loving you."
She walked up to him and put her arms around him. "Even when I'm old and wrinkly?"
"I can't wait till you're old and wrinkly, because it'll mean I've had that many years to kiss you." He traced her lips. "Your smile will always be mine."
"All of me is yours. I love you." She infused it with as much emotion as she could, knowing that there was no possible way to convey everything she felt for him. Except...
She reached around her neck, pulled the arrowhead over her head, and slipped it over his head. It settled over his heart. "Where it belongs," she said.
"Where you belong," he said, catching her up in his arms and kissing her.
All the longing from the time he'd been gone rose to the surface, an unstoppable tide that had her desperately grappling for more. She touched every part of him, over and under his clothes, and gasped as his hands greedily moved over her, too.
He picked her up by her haunches, and she gripped his waist with her thighs as he whirled them around and headed to the dressing room in the back.
"We can't do it here," she protested. Not that it stopped her from undoing his belt. "I want you in my bed."
Pushing her up against the mirror, he didn't stop kissing her as he spoke. "It was a challenge make it back here much less your bedroom. Next time."
She clawed his back, under his shirt. "As long as next time is soon."
"Have I mentioned that I love your little skirts?" His hand reached under her plaid skirt, pushing it up. "But you weren't very considerate wearing tights."
"A real man would do something about it."
He gripped her tights and ripped them from her. "Like that?"
A thrill of excitement raced through her. "You always know what I need."
"I do." He framed her face with his hand, looking directly in her eyes. "I always will, Nic."
And then he slowly pushed into her.
Her head fell back against the mirror. It was tight and wonderful. "I've missed you," she said again, fervently.
"Thank goodness you came to your senses." He grinned at her and then began to thrust back and forth into her, slow and deliberate, keeping her gaze the entire time.
She dug her heels into his haunches, arching herself into him. "I won't be a groupie."
"I don't want a groupie. I want the sweet, sassy girl I fell in love with when I was twelve."
Her heart melted, and she flung her arms around him. "She's yours."
"Forever," he said, and then he proved it.
Epilogue
One year later...
Dim lighting.
Gauzy curtains.
The fizz of champagne.
The buzz of conversation and laughter.
A deep red runner, sprinkled with white rose petals.
Grounds for Thought was transformed into a romantic bower.
All for her.
Nicole exhaled, trying to blow the huge butterflies out of her belly. This was the day she'd been working feverishly toward for the past year, and now that it was here she just wanted to get it over with.
What if she bombed?
What if the critiques called her a hack?
What if people didn't like her designs?
Valentine headed straight to her, a wrathful pixie dressed like June Cleaver. "Drink this now," she ordered, shoving a glass of champagne into her hand. "And then smile. You look like you're going to be sick."
"It's a distinct possibility."
Her friend got in her face, so that all she could see was Valentine's big blue eyes. "You aren't going to be sick. You're going to shine and make us all proud."
"Okay," Nicole said obediently.
"Good." Valentine smoothed her dress and looked around with a satisfied nod.
A flash caught her attention. Nicole turned.
Marley snapped another photo and then lowered her camera. "This is awesome. I can't believe how this all came together. You'd never guess this is normally a café bookstore. It looks like everyone put their stamp on it."
They had. As Nicole looked around, she felt a surge of love for the community who'd pulled together to support her. Eve had donated the location, and Olivia had insisted on decorating. Julie, from Back to the Fuchsia, arranged all the flowers, making the space vibrant with life. Eve had talked Daniela Rossi, the world-famous pastry chef, to bake special little