Once we were upstairs, we gave his mom her birthday gifts.

“This one is from Ryan.” I handed her the bag with the jewelry in it. Ryan frowned at me, apparently for saying that it was just from him.

She opened the bag and removed a small, black box. Inside were gold and diamond earrings in a channel setting. Elegant and tasteful, just as I

would have expected for his mother. She too, stated that they were too much.

I looked at Ryan and smirked. Obviously I wasn’t the only one who thought his gifts to be a bit extravagant.

I handed her a larger gift bag. “This one is from both of us. Careful, it’s heavy.”

“What did you two buy?” she questioned, feeling the weight of the bag.

“We didn’t buy anything, Mom. We made that!”

I smiled, remembering that day fondly. She removed the tissue paper that surrounded the frame.

“Oh my! This is absolutely beautiful!” Her face lit up, looking at the frame in the light. “You made this?”

“Ryan cut and ground all of the glass and even did most of the soldering,” I stated proudly, wrapping my arm around his waist.

He put his arm around my shoulder. “I had an excellent teacher!”

“I can’t believe you made this!” Ellen rose from the couch and hugged us both. “Thank you!” she said as she kissed us one at a time. “I love it! I

absolutely love it! Now maybe I could get you two to pose so I can take a picture of you while you’re all dressed up. That way I’ll have the perfect

picture to put in this beautiful frame.”

This was one photo I didn’t mind posing for.

The next morning, I hurried down the alley to get my car, much to Ryan’s dislike, but I wanted to move the car closer to the back door. I didn’t

want to haul all our bags down the street and give the photographers even more fuel for their tabloid lies. It was bad enough that the paparazzi

followed me down the alley.

We packed the trunk and Ryan smiled briefly when I handed him the keys. I knew that gripping the steering wheel and pressing the gas pedal in

my car would make him happy. He got some sort of elation from driving; whether it was fleeing the photographers and fans or if it was simply the

exhilaration of speed, I wasn’t sure.

“White van just pulled behind us,” I informed Ryan while we waited at a red traffic light two blocks away from the pub.

“Don’t worry, I’ll lose them.” He thoroughly enjoyed testing the limits of my car on the open highway.

Ryan’s driving got us to the cabin in an hour and a half. We had lost the pursuing photographers within the first ten minutes of our trip.

His parents were pleasantly shocked to see our final destination. His father kept patting him on the back and smiling although neither of us

owned the property he was being congratulated for.

After everyone was situated, Ryan and I took the boat out of the garage so he and his father could go fishing. I rode on the back of the fourwheeler

with him, nestling my nose into his neck that was no longer unfamiliar territory. This time our relationship was completely different from the

last time we were here. I remembered wondering if we would ever be a couple and here we were, a couple.

“Taryn, this place is magnificent!” Ellen said, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. We stood on the embankment overlooking the lake. The

weather was chilly but sunny with perfect blue skies.

“One day,” Ryan said happily. “Right, Honey?”

I shrugged my reply, hoping, but still not banking on anything. Not this soon, anyway. I wondered why Ryan felt so sure so soon. Is there really

such a thing as love at first sight, or was he trying to convince himself that this was what he wanted? I didn’t want to second-guess my feelings

though, for I was truly, madly in love with him.

“One day what?” his mom asked.

“Have a place like this.” Ryan beamed. “Bigger house, but on a lake.”

“What bigger house?” Bill inquired, placing his hand on Ryan’s shoulder.

“Just talking about having a house of my own one day, Dad. I can’t live in hotels forever.”

“Good. You should buy a home of your own. Don’t throw your money away renting some place. A house is a good investment. After all, you

certainly can afford it now, Son.”

“I want to design it myself, though. Well, not completely on my own.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “I know this talented woman - she

designed an awesome kitchen and the most amazing rooftop patio I’ve ever seen. I think I’ll ask her how big of a closet she wants. Put in a whole

art studio room just for making stained glass?”

I smiled at him but inside I was freaking out. We’d only been together for a month and already I was going to be designing a house with him?

Was he serious? He looked serious. He surely sounded serious.

“So, what are you ladies going to do today?” Ryan asked, hugging me from behind at the edge of the water. His mother walked away to speak

to his father; they headed towards the dock. I really think she just wanted to give us a moment of privacy.

“I think we’re going to the outlet mall today. I want to stop at the one antique store. I haven’t been there in years. Maybe we’ll do that tomorrow

though.”

He partially released me to reach into his front pocket. Then I felt him stuff something into the right front pocket of my jeans.

“That’s a thousand,” he whispered in my ear. “I want you to spend it on anything your heart desires.”

I slouched in his arms; my body language showing my displeasure of his gesture. “Ryan.”

“Taryn, please. Go have fun with my mom. Enjoy yourself.”

“Did your father shove a thousand dollars in your mom’s pocket, too?” I softly asked.

“I honestly don’t know,” he admitted. “My parents have been married for thirty-four years and they share everything, money included.” He sighed

in my ear. “And my father didn’t recently cash another five million dollar paycheck with another eight million coming.”

I pinched my eyes closed. “I don’t want your money, Ryan.” I felt horrible for allowing it.

“I know,” he murmured on my neck, stopping my hand from leaving my pocket. “Consider this practice for the next thirty-four years.”

“Well if or when the thirty-four years officially starts, we can have this conversation again,” I said gently. I pulled the money out of my pocket and

tried to hand it back to him but he wouldn’t take it.

“So are you telling me we have to be married first before I can even attempt to spoil you and share what I have?” he groaned.

“No. It’s just… that’s a lot of money, Ryan!”

He snickered in my ear. “No, that’s not a lot of money. That’s not even enough to buy a pair of shoes in Beverly Hills.”

I rolled my eyes, even though he didn’t see my reaction.

“If you love me like you say you do, then what’s the problem? I want to make you happy.”

I knew exactly where he was going with this. His chest was pressed to my back, his arms held me in position, and next he was going to try and

trip me up in words.

“I do love you. I love that you want to take care of me. But this…” I held the money up, “does not equal happiness or love.” I knew he wanted to

treat me well but part of me felt like he was trying to buy my affection.

He wrapped his left arm across my chest. “Taryn, I know you’re a self-sufficient, independent woman and I love that about you. And loving you

means that I want to take care of you - physically, emotionally, and financially. If I wanted to piss you off today I would have shoved a hundred grand

in your pocket,” he growled in my ear.

I slumped in his arm.

“Yours, mine, ours…” He shoved the bills deeper into my pocket with his long fingers. “Didn’t you say once it was just details? That this is what

matters?” He patted his right hand over my heart.