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  I hold my hand up to my heart, thinking he’s so sweet, but at the same time, I’m trying to figure out what he meant when he said he was going to do something crazy.

  Is he going to tell the girls about the ponies I bought them?

  Dawson continues speaking. “And it’s a kiss from which I’ve never fully recovered. Vanessa, honey, will you stand up?”

  He walks in front of me and holds out his hand. I put my hand in his and stand even though I’m not big on surprises—in business or in my personal life.

  But with Dawson, I constantly find myself enjoying things I never did in the past.

  He looks into my eyes and whispers, “Smile,” as he drops down on one knee in front of me.

  “Vanessa, fate brought you into my life years ago, and I let you go. This time, I’m smart enough not to let you get away. When Keatyn first introduced us, she told you that I was majoring in luxury marketing, and you said”—I mouth the words with him—“‘What a coincidence. I’m majoring in luxury spending.’ What neither of us understood at the time is that love is the ultimate luxury, and I want to wrap myself in our love and wear it forever.” He holds up a ring box. “Vanessa, will you marry me?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ava and Harlow jumping up and cheering. And, even though my head thinks this is too soon, my heart knows otherwise.

  Tears build in my eyes as I smile at him and say, “Yes.”

  He opens the box to reveal a ring. One unlike any I’ve ever seen before.

  “It’s beautiful,” I tell him, my eyes fixated on its vintage design.

  “This ring was my grandmother’s,” he says, standing up and taking me into his arms. “It’s always been a big argument in our family as to who should get Grandma’s ring. This morning, over coffee, I told my father that I planned to propose today. Actually, remember when I invited you to spend Thanksgiving with my family, like, on our second date? I knew clear back then that I would propose to you in front of my family just like this. Anyway, after I told my dad, he sort of just left. I wasn’t sure if he didn’t like the idea of us getting married or what. But, a little while ago, he gave me the ring.

  “I had heard the story about my grandparents’ love, but I didn’t equate them with mine until my dad reminded me. They’d met at a dance right before Grandpa went off to war. He never thought he’d see that girl again, never knew anything but her first name.”

  “And that her lips were as soft as rose petals,” the whole family chimes in, laughing.

  “Three years later, he saw her walking down the street in New York, and this time, he wasn’t going to let her get away. He asked her to go get a cup of coffee, and the rest is history,” the family says with him, causing me to laugh.

  “You need to tell her the rest, Dawson,” his uncle says.

  “Let me,” his father says, looking directly at me. “At that diner, he found out that she was widowed and had a two-year-old son—me. They were married three months later, and as you can see, they went on to have more children together.”

  Dawson smiles at me. Tears are falling down my face as he slides the ring on my finger and says, “There are three generations of Johnson love wrapped up in this ring, and I’m honored to be able to share that with you.”

  His family cheers and offers well wishes before finally drinking their champagne.

  I give Dawson a big kiss. One that probably isn’t appropriate for children of all ages, but I can’t help it. I can’t even believe that he just proposed. Part of me also can’t believe I said yes.

  “I can’t wait to marry you,” I whisper to him.

  “If you’re serious about that,” his mother says from behind us, “why not do it here—today?”

  I let go of Dawson and whip around, finding all the women in the family smiling at me.

  “We maybe have been kinda planning all day for that contingency,” Annie admits. “We have a truck full of flowers waiting outside.”

  “And everyone always talks about getting married in the gazebo overlooking the ocean,” one of his aunts says, “but no one ever has.”

  “It would be fitting, don’t you think?” another aunt offers. “Our parents built it in honor of their fiftieth wedding anniversary and renewed their vows there.”

  “And both passed shortly after,” Dawson’s mom adds solemnly. “We don’t want you to think you have to. We can just decorate extra special for our early Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “And we bought everyone new outfits to wear in the family photos we planned to take tomorrow,” another aunt says. “And we may have hired a photographer.”

  “Don’t forget the band,” Annie teases.

  “Yes, well, they did meet at a dance,” Dawson’s mother rambles. “And every wedding—or Thanksgiving dinner, for that matter—needs a band for dancing afterward. I think it should become a family tradition in fact. We’re not trying to force you into anything you don’t want, dear.”

  I watch them all. How excited they are. I don’t want to hurt their feelings, but…

  “I would love more than anything to marry Dawson today, in front of you all, but I wouldn’t feel right doing it unless my father walked me down the aisle. I’m sorry.”

  Dawson, who I almost forgot was still standing behind me, wraps his arms around my waist.

  “Your father is here and watched the proposal. I could never ask for your hand in marriage without asking him first. I also knew you’d want him here for this. Turn around.”

  More tears fall through my lashes as I turn around and see my father standing there, Dawson’s two little girls holding his hands.

  “Yes, Dawson. A hundred times, yes.”

  Get Book #16

  ALSO BY JILLIAN DODD

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Jillian is a USA TODAY bestselling author who writes fun romances with characters her readers fall in love with, from the boy next door in the That Boy trilogy to the daughter of a famous actress in The Keatyn Chronicles to a kick-ass young assassin in the Spy Girl series.

  She lives in a small Florida beach town, is married to her college sweetheart, has two grown children, and two Labrador Retrievers named Cali and Camber. When she's not working, she likes to travel, paint, shop for shoes, watch football, and go to the beach.

  Check out Jillian’s website for added content and to sign up for her newsletter.

 

 

 
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