He’s stunned speechless for a few seconds, before he mutters, “Do you mean that empty space where the coffee shop used to be?” His eyes spring up to mine.

I nod. “Yup. It belongs to you.”

“Oh my God…” He gasps, his face immediately morphing into one of mesmerized elation. “Oh my God! I can’t believe you did this!”

He tosses the box onto the couch and attacks me, leaping up into my arms. I catch him by the butt, hugging onto him tightly while he kisses my lips over and over.

“I get to open my own restaurant,” he whimpers, emotions clearly bubbling over. I can’t help but feel them too. Making him this happy is like taking a unicorn ride over a rainbow. “Holy crap, it’s really happening. I get to open my own place! Design my own menu, choose ingredients… I get to cook for a living!”

He squeals, and I laugh, running my fingers up and down his back. “Yea, you do, baby. You get to run the show.”

He pulls back to blink up at me. “Are you sure I can do it…?”

“Is that a serious question?” I ask, my lips curving.

He squeals again. “Who am I kidding? Of course, I can do it! This is my dream!”

“Yea, it is, baby,” I chuckle, kissing his bottom lip.

“And you made it happen…” He sighs with hearts in his eyes. For me. “James… I just…” He shakes his head. “Between the proposal and now this… You’re rocking my world this Christmas, baby.” He kisses my smile. “I can’t believe you did this for me…”

“It’s not just for you, baby,” I tell him, thumbs drawing circles on his jaw. “It’s for us. This is our future. Getting married, starting a business… Starting a life. It’s all I want… With you, Jess.”

“I can’t wait to build a life with you,” he whispers on my mouth.

Our kisses slow down. And we feel it; the excitement of so many wonderful new things happening in our world.

I think him giving me a garden is fitting… Because of everything we’ll be growing together. A business, a marriage. A relationship that means something, not just a hidden affair.

With this man in my arms, I’ll want for nothing else.

He’s it. The gift of a lifetime.

“Am I dead??”

I have to laugh at that. Leaning over the counter, hands clasped together, my grin is uncontrollable while I watch James devouring all the little sample items on the plate.

“No, I’m serious,” he grumbles once he’s swallowed the mouthful of pineapple macadamia shortbread. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven, because this food, baby… It tastes like it was baked by an angel.”

I bite my lip. “You’re way too good for my ego. Let’s just hope the food critic dude shares your enthusiasm.”