Eventually we collapse on the bed, our arms wrapped around each other as we doze off, exhausted from pretty much everything that’s happened today.

I wake up in his arms a few hours later. It’s dark outside, but the bedside lamp is on, casting a dull light across the room. Nate must’ve turned that on at some point after I fell asleep. For the first time since I’ve been here, I get a good look at this room. It’s a lot like his room in Virginia; same colors, same earthiness. More photos of waterfalls and rivers, of mountains and ski slopes. Maybe it’s a reminder of home? I notice there’s a photo on the nightstand, on the far side of the bed. Careful not to wake him, I reach over and pick it up. As I snuggle up against his chest, I hold the picture above me because I just can’t take my eyes off of it.

It’s the photo of the two of us dancing at the wedding. The same one I couldn’t stop looking at on my laptop. There’s something sweet and comforting knowing that he liked it enough to get a print of it. That it meant enough to him to put it next to his bed.

“That one’s my favorite,” he says, sliding his fingertips across my upper arm.

I turn my head and look up at him, smiling. “Mine too.”

He reaches out and presses the edge between his index finger and thumb. “Maybe I should frame it and put it downstairs.”

“No,” I say thoughtfully, placing it back on the nightstand. “I think it belongs up here.”

He sighs. “Okay,” he replies, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “So, I’ve never had redecoration foreplay before, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

I giggle as I brush my lips across the skin above his heart. “I think we’ll have a lot of firsts together. Foreplay aside, this place could use a feminine touch.” I gasp almost immediately, totally not meaning to imply the thing that I just implied. That I should be the feminine touch. “I didn’t mean-”

Nate presses his finger against my lips. “Don’t. I was kind of hoping you’d stay.”

“I brought a few weeks’ worth of clothes. At least I think I did, I was in kind of a hurry when I packed.”

“We can get you new clothes,” he says, twirling a strand of my hair around his fingers.

I prop myself up on my elbow so I can get a good look at Nate’s face. It’s gorgeous as always, and he’s smiling at me like I’m as bright as the sun. “How long did you want me to stay?”

“Forever,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal.

I smile.

Forever is such a beautiful word.

“I REALLY like these pants,” I say, tugging on the waistband. My finger brushes against the sewn-on logo that I designed; looking at it still gives me chills. “I think they could be a go for the women’s line.”

“I’ll tell the R and D guys,” Nate says as he sits down behind me, spreading his legs to make a spot for me.

“R and D guys,” I say, parroting him. “I still can’t believe this is happening. You, an entrepreneur.” I say the last word with a fake French flourish that makes Nate laugh.

“I’m a small business owner.” Nate keeps saying that, but it’s not really true. Small business owners don’t typically have the connections he does from his years in the sporting goods industry. Small business owners don’t usually have the number of preorders that Rocky Mountain Rec does before they’ve even started production. But that title makes him feel safe, so I let him have it.

I pull my hair back into a ponytail as I look out on the valley below me. The lake is so still that it looks like a mirror for the sky.

“I just climbed a mountain, Nate. A mountain.”

His laugh is a low rumble as he reaches forward and slides his calloused hands up and down my calves. We’ve been together a year, and I still shiver at even the slightest bit of contact. “It’s a hill, Cal. Like…a really big hill.”

“Hills have grass,” I protest, turning to look at him. “This is definitely a rocky surface.”

“Okay. It’s a big, rocky hill.”

I glare at him, but he grins and all my (mostly) fake outrage melts away.

“I’m standing on the precipice of…something!” I shout, shaking my fist triumphantly.

“If you’re standing on anything, it’s a slope.”

I swat at his arms until his hands fall away. “Really? I’m supposed to be committing myself to you for life a week from tomorrow, and this is how you’re playing the last dark days of your wifeless existence? By antagonizing your long-suffering fiancée?”

He plays so dirty, tickling the backs of my knees until I collapse in a fit of giggles. He takes advantage of my weakened state and gathers me in his arms, until I’m situated between his legs, one of my favorite spots.

“As if you could resist marrying this,” he teases as our fingers tangle together.

“I’m not sure you’re as much of a prize as you think you are,” I say, lying through my teeth. I know how very lucky I am.

“You love me,” he whispers, pressing his lips against my neck.

“I do,” I tell him. “I do.”

Love is the only word I can assign to all the feelings I have for him, even though I know that what we have goes much, much deeper than that.

“We should’ve asked for presents,” he says, leaning forward so that his chin is resting on the top of my head. “Registered or whatever.” He absently plays with my engagement ring, which is a thing he likes to do sometimes. He just turns it around and around my finger as he holds my hand, like he needs a tangible reminder that I’m here, we’re real, and soon we’ll be forever. I wonder if I’ll do something similar with his ring once he’s wearing it. I’m excited to find out; it seems like it’s been sitting in my sock drawer for a lifetime, just waiting to be placed on his finger.

I only have to wait one more week. An eternity.

“We did ask for a present,” I remind him. “Our honeymoon, if that rings a bell. And you’ll be glad we asked for donations once you see the view from our hotel in the Alps.”

He plants a soft kiss to the sensitive spot just below my ear. “We’ll need a good view since I don’t think we’ll be going outside all that often.”

The undercurrent of anticipation in his voice makes me feel like a thousand butterflies were set loose in my stomach. “We’re getting married,” I whisper.

“I can’t wait.”

I can’t believe how far I’ve come over the past year. The ease with which Nate and I settled into a life together still surprises me, not that it should. Loving him was like breathing once I finally let myself do it. “I never would’ve thought that trip to Virginia would’ve led to all this,” I admit.

Nate’s fingers tighten around mine and he pulls me a little bit closer.

“So, what you’re saying is that Ben and Gabby’s wedding was the best thing that ever happened to you?”

I know he’s teasing me, but what he said is true. Well, kind of.

“Nah,” I tell him. “The greatest thing that ever happened to me had already happened by the time I got there.”

“What’s that?” he asks, gently cupping my cheek and turning my head until our eyes meet.

He already knows the answer, he just wants to hear me say it. I kiss him before I do.

“Meeting Mister Wright.”

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Cassie Cross is a Maryland native and a romantic at heart, who lives outside of Baltimore with her two dogs and a closet full of shoes. Cassie’s fondness for swoon-worthy men and strong women are the inspiration for most of her stories, and when she’s not busy writing a book, you’ll probably find her eating takeout and indulging in her love of 80′s sitcoms.