Just Us

Vivienne was still staring, mouth parted in stunned disbelief, when Knox slipped his fingers through hers.

“How—” she breathed. “How did you set all this up? How could you have known I wouldn’t say the beach?”

Knox gave her a crooked, sheepish smile. “I didn’t.”

She blinked.

“I actually had four venues prepped on this estate,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “The beach, a garden, a hilltop, and this.” He looked out toward the orchard, warm light filtering through the trees. “Zayne owns the place, so I had a little creative freedom. But… I had a really good feeling about the orchard. I like it here too.”

He shifted, the smallest hint of nerves flitting through his usually impenetrable expression.

“So what do you think?” he asked, voice softer now. “Would you like to marry me today?”

He gave her a smile that made her stomach flip.

“It would make me… unbelievably happy,” he said. “But if you’re not ready, I’ll turn the car around right now. I’ll understand. I’ll wait.”

Vivienne blinked fast, a tear already burning in the corner of her eye.

“You really want to marry me,” she whispered, “on the same day my divorce came through?”

He laughed under his breath. “I wanted to marry you hours ago. The moment that envelope hit the counter. But really? I wanted to marry you a year ago, in the rain outside that coffeehouse.”

She went still.

Tears welled, her chest tight as she fought the urge to launch herself across the console and into his arms.

“But if I wasn’t pregnant—” she choked, the words catching in her throat.

Knox took her hand.

He cradled it gently, like something fragile and precious, and brought it to his lips.

“I can’t wait to love our baby,” he said, voice breaking slightly. “But only because they’re part of you. First and always—it’s you, Angel. If there was no baby, no scandal, no Weston—I’d still want you. Just as I have. From the moment we met.”

Vivienne’s throat tightened. She couldn’t breathe. But she could nod.

But as soon as the reality of what she'd just agreed to settled over her, Vivienne blinked and sat up straighter.

“Wait—I don’t have a dress. Or makeup. Or our families.”

Knox just grinned, and put the car in drive.

She frowned. “Knox—”

“We’ve got it covered.”

The car wound around a wider gravel path leading up to a large, sun-washed estate house nestled at the edge of the orchard. As they pulled in, a tall, dark-haired man emerged from the front door.

Zayne.

He looked relaxed and charming as ever, until he spotted Vivienne and opened his arms like they were old friends.

She smiled as she stepped out of the car, only to be intercepted by Knox’s arm pulling her possessively against his side.

Zayne blinked. “Seriously?”

Knox raised an eyebrow.

“Come on, man,” Zayne said, deadpan. “You know the press had it wrong.”

Knox didn’t reply, his jaw tight.

Zayne threw up his hands. “Alright. Not the time.”

He turned back to Vivienne, gesturing toward the wide porch. “The dress people are set up in two of the bedrooms. Your family’s at one end of the house, and Knox’s are at the other.”

Knox took her hand and led her up the steps before she could process all of that. Zayne peeled away with a clipboard, looking conveniently distracted.

They passed polished floors, a few curious glances, and warm wood-paneled hallways until they reached a pair of tall double doors.

Knox turned to her, gave a single mischievous wink—

And pushed them open.

The second they stepped inside, voices erupted.

Across the elegant sitting room, a striking woman with luminous tanned skin, warm eyes, and thick curls streaked with silver rose from a velvet chair. Next to her, a devastatingly handsome man—salt-and-pepper hair, stormy gray eyes, clearly an older version of Knox—stood with his hands half-raised, mid-gesture.

Both of them were clearly gearing up to say everything.

Knox lifted one hand, voice firm.

“We’re pregnant.”

The effect was instantaneous.

His mother gasped, and then her entire face lit up as she crossed the room with a speed Vivienne hadn’t expected. She enveloped her in a hug so warm it knocked the air from her lungs.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered. “Oh, I’ve been praying for this.”

Vivienne flushed, completely overwhelmed.

Knox leaned in close, lips to her ear.

“My mom’s always wanted grandkids,” he said. “She’s going to try to adopt you now.”

After an endless sea of questions, Knox gently peeled his mother off Vivienne and laced their fingers together again. “Come on,” he said. “There’s someone else waiting to see you.”

He led her upstairs through another wing of the estate, toward a wide hallway humming with energy. Voices and the rustle of fabrics drifted from one of the doors. As they approached, he squeezed her hand.

Inside, Vivienne’s parents were standing amid a sea of gowns and bustling assistants. Racks of dresses filled the space, and a trio of stylists immediately turned to look at her as she stepped through the doorway.

Her mother turned, her face softening with instant emotion. Her father blinked twice and offered a stunned smile.

Knox greeted them warmly, shaking hands and exchanging quiet reassurances. But as soon as Vivienne stepped deeper into the room, one of the stylists clapped and waved him toward the door.

“I’ll just… hang back,” he said hopefully.

“No, no, out,” Tina said, sweeping in with a brush belt and smirking at him. “Go away. You’ll see her in ninety minutes.”

Knox’s eyes narrowed. “Ten.”

“Ninety if you're lucky,” Tina said cheerfully. “Now shoo.”

Knox looked to Vivienne with reluctant amusement, kissed her on the cheek, and backed toward the door. “Ninety minutes,” he muttered.