“Why don’t I give you my heart instead?” She softened her tone and ran a finger along the strong line of his jaw.

He caught her hand in his. “Stop that or I’ll be too distracted to get through my speech.”

“So you did prepare one.”

“Long ago.” He withdrew his wallet from the pocket of his jeans, lifted a flap behind the bills, and pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from the hidden compartment.

She leaned closer. “What’s that?”

“The proposal script I wrote eight years ago.”

Wow.

Here was hard proof that he had, indeed, been planning to ask her to marry him the weekend after she’d somehow lost her moral compass in the euphoria of love—as he’d told her in January.

“I’ve been carrying it around with me ever since.”

Double wow.

“Would you like to hear it?”

Not trusting her voice, she nodded.

He didn’t unfold the worn, frayed-around-the-edges sheet that had yellowed through the years.

Instead, he set it between them, took both her hands, and spoke from memory.

“For most of my life, I didn’t think I deserved to be loved—especially by someone like you. But over these past months—now years—I’ve come to realize that whether I deserve it or not, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You’ve been the greatest blessing I’ve ever received, and your love has given me hope. It’s made me believe that with you by my side, my tomorrows can be better than my yesterdays.”

He paused. Swallowed. “I’m not the prince you deserve, but you’ll never find anyone who loves you more. And I guarantee that every day, for as long as I live, you’ll come first in my thoughts—and in my heart. I love you, Cate Reilly. I always have, and I always will. Would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

Her vision misted, and despite her aversion to mush she felt as if she’d dissolved into a pile of sticky-sweet syrup.

She sniffed and tried to regain control of her emotions. “Is there . . . is there a ring to go with your speech?”

He released one of her hands, pulled a small box out of another pocket, and flipped open the top to reveal a large, emerald-cut diamond in a platinum setting flanked by two smaller emerald-cut diamonds.

His hands were shaky as he held it out for her to see.

Her heart melted.

“The ring is new. Eight years ago, I was going to have you pick the ring out yourself after I proposed, but I was passing a jewelry store a few weeks ago and saw this in the window. The strong, bold, confident design reminded me of you—but if you don’t like it, we can exchange it for one you prefer.”

In answer, she simply lifted the fourth finger of her left hand.