Chapter 9 - The Harbor of Light
Six months later.
Summer had arrived in Seattle, turning the sky into a brilliant, cloudless canopy of sapphire blue over the waters of Puget Sound.
On a scenic bluff overlooking the ocean in Bainbridge Island, three miles across the bay from the city skyline, stood a breathtaking new home—a warm, timber-and-stone estate surrounded by green lawns, wild lavender, and towering pine trees.
Rowan had sold the Meridian Tower penthouse, choosing to leave behind the glass cage of the city to build a place where Finn could run through the grass, smell the sea air, and hear the sound of wild birds every morning.
On the sunlit back deck, seven-year-old Finn was running through the sprinklers with Marcus’s young daughter, his laughter ringing out clear and loud across the lawn.
Inside the spacious, open-concept kitchen, Meg stood near the marble island, wearing a light linen sundress, preparing fresh lemonade.
A pair of strong arms wrapped gently around her waist from behind.
Rowan rested his chin on her shoulder, his chest warm and solid against her back. He smelled of fresh cedar, ocean air, and the expensive citrus cologne she had grown to love.
"What are you thinking about?" Rowan whispered, kissing the delicate curve of her neck.
"I was thinking about towel rabbits," Meg smiled, leaning her head back against his shoulder. "And how a broken brake on a housekeeping cart changed my entire world."
"It wasn't a broken brake, Meg," Rowan said softly, turning her around in his arms so he could look into her hazel eyes. "It was fate. You walked into that room when the rest of the world had given up on us."
Rowan reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, exquisite mahogany box lined with black velvet.
He opened it.
Inside sat a custom-designed platinum ring. The center held a flawless, radiant-cut three-carat canary diamond—bright yellow, glowing like sunlight—surrounded by delicate, sculpted platinum folds that resembled the delicate wings of a terry-cloth crane.
Meg caught her breath, her hand flying to her mouth. "Rowan..."
"I don't offer you twenty thousand a month anymore, Meg," Rowan said, his voice deep, rough, and full of profound emotion as he looked into her eyes. "I offer you my heart. My home. My life. Will you marry us? Will you be my wife, and Finn’s mother?"
Tears of pure, unadulterated joy filled Meg’s eyes.
May you like
She didn't hesitate for a single second. She threw her arms around Rowan’s neck, pulling his lips down to hers in a deep, passionate kiss that sealed every promise they had made in the dark.
"Yes," Meg whispered against his lips. "Yes, Rowan! Absolutely yes!"
