Page 311 of By His Vow

His expression morphs from one of fear to one of pure happiness.

His eyes widen, the green sparkling in the sun as his lips pull up into the widest smile I think I’ve ever seen.

‘Tatum,’ he mouths as if he’s shocked to see me.

As I walk closer, he does the same. It’s as if we’re magnets, pulled together by something too strong to ignore.

After checking for cars, I pick up speed as I cross the road.

My need to know what he’s up to has me running straight into his arms. He instantly pulls me into his body and drops his lips to mine, kissing me as if he didn’t see me less than an hour ago.

“What are you doing?” I ask when he finally releases me.

Silently, he takes my hand and tugs me inside the cottage’s yard, closing the small gate behind us.

“Kingston?” I ask as we move toward the front door.

He brings us to a stop and turns to face me.

I fight to drag in the breaths I desperately need as his eyes bounce between mine, studying me closely.

“This place has been sold, we shouldn’t?—”

My words are cut off as Kingston thrusts a box at me.

It’s black velvet, much like the one that housed my engagement ring.

On instinct, I lift my left hand and glance down at my rings.

Kingston reaches for my hand and gently grasps my fingers.

“You never took them off,” he muses.

Shaking my head, I say two words that are so painfully true, that they cut straight through my chest, only in the best kind of way. “I couldn’t.”

“Fuck, Tatum.” He releases me before scrubbing his face. “This is for you,” he says, pushing the box closer. “You need to open it before I do something I really shouldn’t in Aunt Lena’s flower beds.”

I raise a brow at his confession.

“Baby, you’re not even wearing a bra,” he points out, his eyes dropping to my more than obvious nipples.

Wrapping my hoodie around myself, I find his eyes again.

“Please,” he says, pushing the box closer again.

I take it, muttering, “What have you done, Kingston Callahan?”

He shrugs but doesn’t say anything as I flip the lid and peel back some tissue to find?—

“A key?”

“A key to your cottage, baby,” he confirms as the world begins to spin around me.

I mean, I hoped when I found his note and then him standing here.

But—

“How? It’s my father’s. You can’t just?—”