He’s quiet. Not saying a word. I turn around to face him and he’s pressing his fist into his mouth.

“You said you loved it?”

“Fuck, Ivy, it’s sexy as hell,” he growls.

I smile and blush at the same time.

“But don’t you think there’s a little too much skin showing in the back?” he asks.

This actually makes me laugh. I used to think he didn’t want me to show off my body because he didn’t like other guys to see it. But now I think I was wrong—it’s because him seeing so much skin drives him wild, and I love that! I step close to him. “I think it’s the perfect amount of skin,” I whisper hotly against his lips.

He catches my mouth and kisses me. “Yeah, for roving hands who want to feel you in places where they shouldn’t be,” he breathes, sliding a hand into the side of my dress and squeezing my breast.

Smiling, I say, “Trust me, you’re the only one thinking that way.”

I turn around and throw him a wink, but before I can move away his hands are on my h*ps and when I rock back against him, I can feel the heat and hardness of his c**k beneath the layers of fabric. He mumbles something against my skin that sounds like, “Fuck, you’d think I was fourteen again,” but I don’t ask why because the softness of his mouth in my ear and the feel of his breath against my cheek is all I care about. He turns me around and anchors his h*ps to mine. He slips his arms around my waist and I place mine around his neck. His feet start to move in a slow circle—he’s dancing with me in the bathroom. I strain to hear the lyrics to the song playing as his fingers trace the exposed bumps of my spine. He draws me closer and I can smell his cologne—a mix of the sea, the sun, the earth, and a Mediterranean breeze. I breathe him in and become intoxicated by his scent.

“You smell so good,” I murmur in his ear.

“You like it? I wore it for you.”

“Mmm-hmmm . . .”

My head fits perfectly on his shoulder and I find all the comfort I need for the night ahead right here in him. His hands slide up the center of my back—the skin against skin contact makes me forget any apprehension I’m feeling. He suddenly dips me and pulls me back to him. “We have to go,” he murmurs. But instead of letting me go, he kisses me again.

“We have to go,” I breathe around his lips. I can feel his sexy smile against my mouth, but I somehow manage to break free and make my way back over to the vanity on shaky legs. I pick up my earrings—the sapphires that dangle with stars at the bottom. He grins at me as I put them in both ears. We stare at each other and I’m sure we’re both remembering the woman who gave me her earrings because she just knew I was going to be a star.

• • •

I’m still tingling when we get in the car. He hits the gas and takes off, but instead of taking a right to head toward the studio he takes a left. “Where are you going?”

“I’m sorry, baby. I have one stop I have to make before the party.”

About thirty seconds elapse and he pulls over. “Oh, I forgot one thing.” He grins as he pulls out the piece of fabric from Garrett’s yoga swing that he used as a blindfold when he took me to Niagara Falls. “You have to wear this.”

I look at him in surprise. “Why? I can’t see where you have to stop along the way?”

“Just turn around,” he tells me with a smirk, and I do. He ties the fabric around my head and kisses my hair.

I’m not sure how much time passes before he parks the car and turns the ignition off. I rest my hand on the door handle and he says, “Wait for me.”

He quickly opens my door and guides me out. I have no idea where we’re going. Soon I hear the click of a lock and we seem to be inside somewhere, but then I hear another click and we’re back outside. When I hear another lock open, I ask, “Xander, where are we?”

“We’re home, baby,” he says, and his deep, husky voice resonates against my skin. He quickly removes my blindfold and opens the ornate etched-glass door in front of us. I stand in shock as my eyes roam the very familiar room. The built-in window seat, ceiling fan, light blue walls, and bamboo wooden floor are still the same. It looks just like it did the very last time I set foot in it, twelve years ago, except that the countertops seem to have been upgraded to granite and track lighting now glows from the ceiling. But even with the minor changes there’s no mistaking this place he just called home.

“Home!” I cry, turning around to throw my arms around him. “You bought your grandparents’ old house? But how?” I ask.

His eyes meet mine and he doesn’t answer. Instead he drops to one knee, and I swear the butterflies actually flutter out of my stomach. My heart pounds and I’m a little nervous—no, a lot nervous. Xander’s eyes take in every inch of me, but my full attention stays locked on his tranquil hazel eyes. His gaze skims over my dress to the sapphires that never leave my ears, and then it settles on my eyes. In that moment I have no doubts about this man, my life, our life. He pulls a velvet box from his pocket and holds it out. My pulse races as he slowly lifts the lid. What I see in the velvet cushion brings tears to my eyes. The ring flashing so brilliantly there is the ring that his father gave his mother. He’s offering it to me—he wants me to be his wife. It’s simple and perfect and I always thought it was the most absolutely beautiful ring I’d ever seen.

“Will you marry me, Ivy Taylor?” he asks with the slow and easy smile that makes my heart melt every time.

“Yes!” I cry without a second thought, and drop to my knees next to him before he can even take the ring out of the box. I cradle his face in the palms of my hands and tears stream down my cheeks. “Yes, I will marry you,” I whisper. Then I kiss him. I kiss my prince charming with a long kiss that is full of meaning. I don’t want to ever stop kissing him. When I lean back to catch my breath I ask, “You bought your grandparents’ old house for us? How?”

“Luck, fate, destiny.” He shrugs. “Are you happy?”

“Yes!” I say. “Yes, yes, yes!”

His smile is as wide as mine, I’m sure. He nibbles my lip one more time and pulls me to my knees. We kneel together and hold each other and before we stand up he says, “Give me your hand.”

I extend my left hand and as he slides the large pear-shaped diamond on my finger, my other hand flies to my mouth. It’s perfect. The brilliance of the diamond is just so stunning, I’m completely surprised and so overwhelmed. My tears are still flowing and he softly says, “Stop crying. You’re not supposed to be crying.” His eyes are gleaming and he kisses my fingers so gently I feel like I’m floating on a cloud. I just want to hold him, smell him, feel him—forever.

• • •

We walk into the building where the unveiling of my new album, My Mended Heart, is taking place. Both of us are literally beaming. We’ve decided not to mention our engagement until the end of the evening, so I turn my ring backward for now. We’re a little late, but not much, and surprisingly Xander hasn’t looked at his watch or even mentioned it. His hand is on the small of my back as we enter the gala, and before we greet everyone I turn to him and mouth I love you. This is the album I always wanted to put out but never had the courage to—until he came back into my life. I allow myself to just stare at him—he’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.

I breathe in the scent of the flowers that fill the room and then shift my gaze to admire the glimmer of light from the crystal chandeliers. The room looks as magical as the night already has been. Amazing Grace has been transformed from a concrete hangar into a glittering nightclub. With six crystal chandeliers, dozens of round tables, and more than a hundred vases of purple dahlias and, of course, a splash of ivy, compliments of Xander, this get-together feels more like a welcoming party than a release party.

Bell planned the whole event. I would have thought she’d have been here for hours, but she actually walked in right before we did. Jack and Charlotte dropped her off and she got out of their car with a large bag hanging from her shoulder. We tried to catch up with her, but she was off fluttering around and making sounds that seemed incomprehensible. Xander had just shrugged his shoulders. But his cool facade seems to have evaporated now.

As we make our way farther into the room, his brow creases and I can tell he’s nervous. I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering if I should feel more nervous than I do. I decide to try to calm him instead of joining him in the nerves. “It’s the calm before the chaos,” I tell him, as he stands next to me gripping my hand tightly. Squeezing his fingers, I look around at all the people who are here for me and realize I may have misspoken about the calm. The mood in the room is anything but sedate. It’s full of such real positive energy that no forced smiles are necessary.

My stomach flutters when he kisses my forehead. “You’re going to be great. Don’t let my sorry-ass nerves get to you.”

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him to me. “Thank you.” Then I seal my mouth to his and kiss him in a way that lets him know that with him by my side I know I’ll be fine. Pulling away, we smile at each other. We have both been lavishing these smiles on each other. Smiles that make the world seem all the more perfect. And it is. His thumb traces my lips.

Over Xander’s shoulder, I catch sight of his brother. A minute later a chin rests on his shoulder and arms wrap around his waist. He too smiles. It’s contagious. I motion toward the door. “There’s River and Dahlia. Let’s go say hi.”

Dahlia looks amazing. She’s wearing a pewter-colored halter dress with a chain neck and a large brooch at the center of the deep V. River looks pretty good himself in a suit much like Xander’s, and he as well has opted for no tie. He and Dahlia are fashionably late as always, but since today is their one-year anniversary I think it’s perfectly acceptable. Their tardiness seems to always drive Xander crazy, and River seems to get a kick out of it every time. Over the past few weeks, Xander has ended up laughing along with us. I actually find his reaction pretty funny myself because for someone so much in control all the time, he seems to be letting some of his barriers down.

Xander and Dahlia have a bond that warms my heart. It seems that when Xander first met Dahlia he acted like a real ass. I’m glad to see that they’ve moved past their issues, especially since the day he met her was the day I announced my engagement to Damon. He told me he was pretty drunk by the time they were introduced.

“Xander. Ivy,” River says in such a drawn-out way that it clues me in that he knows something. Dahlia kisses River’s cheek before circling to stand next to him. River searches Xander, and if I hadn’t been looking, I would never have noticed the slight nod Xander gives him. River grabs Xander around the neck and pulls him forward, and with a not so subtle snicker, he says, “A phone call would have been nice.”

Xander’s eyes grow bright with laughter. “Right, bro. Sorry. I’ll remember next time.”

River lets him go. “That’s better.”

Xander slants him a look. “If that’s not a spade calling a spade.”

Before River can counter Dahlia swoops in. “Congratulations,” she cries, kissing me and then Xander in turn as she wraps an arm around each of us, pulling us together for a group hug.

River ducks under Dahlia’s arm and pops up in the middle. He kisses her on the lips. “Don’t forget me.”

Dahlia releases us just as Garrett comes over. “Awww . . . I missed out on the hugs and kisses. What, because we all work together now, I get shafted?”

Laughing at him, I have to say he is the funniest person I know. He seems to love his new job, and I think he may have even gone on a date or two with Ena. He nods hello to each of us and then in true guy fashion grabs River by the collar and jerks him backward. “You’re late, dick. Come on,” he quips. Then he starts to shake his h*ps and sing, “LA, let’s get this party started!” He sounds so much like B. Taylor, I actually want to hear him sing the whole song.

Dahlia and I giggle as Xander shakes his head and we all watch as River gets dragged away and pulled onstage for a jam session with the guys. They’re all up there—River, Leif, Nix, Garrett, and even Zane. The crowd rushes the dance floor and throws hands in the air, dancing to a cover of “Hands All Over.” I have to laugh because I know how much Dahlia loves Maroon 5. I also know how much River dislikes them. But he must have planned this for her, for their anniversary.

“Excuse me,” she says, and moves toward the stage. Mesmerized, she watches them, her hands clasped near her heart. She grins ear to ear as River sings to her—the performance seems to make her very happy.

Bell finds me in the midst of all the excitement. She too looks beautiful. She’s so petite, but her vibrant emerald eyes and long coppery brown hair make her look like a spitfire. She’s wearing a green strapless romper with metallic flowers on it, and wisps of thin gold chains adorn her neck—she’s stunning and it looks like she’s also a little sunburned. The red contrast against the silky dark fabric makes her rosy all over. Dragging me over to the photo booth she rented, she has me posing in it for at least twenty different pictures. Then she runs off to use them to decorate the tables so everyone knows who I am—I can only laugh at that.

I spot Xander across the room and wave him over to drag him in with me. I try to get him to make playful faces and whenever I whisper something dirty in his ear, he does. These pictures are for me, not for the tables. When we step out of the booth, I’m a little flushed myself.