The Last Eligible Billionaire(101)

Hyacinth winks at them.

The crowd roars with laughter.

“This calls for an interruption if you want this place still standing before the corporate retreats start,” my father murmurs to me.

I rub my thumb over the velvet box in my pocket. “It does, doesn’t it?”

“You sure you want to do this?” Jonas asks.

While I’ve had a fantastic year, he has not.

Turns out, we Rutherfords are better at navigating public scandals than we thought.

Or possibly we’re getting better at letting people see that we’re not perfect, and that’s exactly as it should be.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life,” I tell him. “Here. Hold the little guy.”

He smiles and takes the sleepy bundle. “Good sign.”

I head down the closest stairway, following in Hyacinth’s footsteps to the stage, where Begonia gasps softly. “Well, this is unusual,” she says, meeting me at the edge and holding out a hand to help me up. “Look at this. We get the man responsible for Camp Funshine’s reincarnation himself. Now, go easy on Mr. Rutherford, okay? He doesn’t like big crowds.”

She beams at me, her nose wrinkling a little as if she’s asking what I’m up to, and I give her a peck on the cheek that makes the kids around us erupt in cheers.

“Always wondered if that would happen,” I murmur to her.

“What brings you to the stage?” she whispers back.

“I missed you.”

That smile melts me every time.

“Begonia didn’t introduce Mr. Rutherford here properly,” Hyacinth announces. “He’s actually her b-o-y-f-r-i-e-n-d.”

The kids squeal even louder.

“We know! We saw them k-i-s-s-i-n-g,” one of the teenagers yells.

Hyacinth fake-gasps. “Scandalous!”

“Truly,” I agree.

It’s odd being on a stage, and I still don’t know how Jonas does this—or Begonia, for that matter, as she’s out here for campfire skits at least every other week—but her hand is slipped in mine, and she squeezes lightly while she makes a face at the audience.

“Okay, okay, calm down. Grown-ups are allowed to date. And kiss.”

“And grown-ups also—” someone starts in the audience, but Begonia’s on it.

“Ernie Brown, if you finish that sentence, you don’t get to meet any other special guests tonight.”

Half the kids snicker.

“Now,” she continues, “since our dear Mr. Rutherford has come all the way up to the stage—for the first time all summer, I might add—let’s see what he has to say.” She smiles at me. “And the floor is yours.”

I look out over the mass of bodies in the dark, some illuminated by the fire, some farther back and merely shapes and shadows.

And then I look back at Begonia.

“Actually, I’d prefer to just talk to you.”

My voice carries, and I hear whispers around us.

Begonia’s nose twitches again, and so do her eyebrows. “Right here?”

“It does seem to be one of your favorite places.”

And there’s that smile again. “I have many favorite places.”

“That’s true,” Hyacinth chimes in.

“She’s notorious,” Jerry calls from the top of the amphitheater.

“Would you two please let him talk?” my mother says.

“Do you realize you’re surrounded by people who adore you?” I ask my beautiful bluebell.

She blinks once, and her smile grows wider. “And surrounded by people that I adore in return. This isn’t where either of us thought we’d be when we met, is it?”

“Not at all.”

I’m smiling too as I glance around at the kids again. Some are bouncing. Grins and smirks abound in this little amphitheater tonight.

“Is he gonna kiss her again?” someone whispers loudly.

“I hope not,” Hyacinth whispers back, just as loudly. “Ew.”

“What I hope,” I say, turning to the audience again, “is that each of you has learned a fraction of what I learn every day about the world and how to live life to the fullest, for having had the privilege of spending it with this lovely woman here.”

I squeeze her hand while more squeals and awws rise around us.

“Hayes,” she whispers.

I turn back to her. “You, my dear bluebell, have done the impossible. You’ve taken a cold, battered, hidden heart and taught it the true meaning of love. You’ve restored my faith in humanity, pulled me back into the world, and brought as much peace to my life as you have joy.”

She swipes at her eyes, still smiling. “You make it easy.”

“The day we met, the only thing I wanted was peace, quiet, and solitude. And I know I was the last thing you wanted that day too. The universe had other plans for both of us, and I find I want something I never thought could exist for me.”

“What’s that?”

I drop to one knee, and gasps and squeals explode around me.

But I care simply about one person, and one person only, whose eyes have suddenly gone the size of the fire, and whose lips have rounded into a circle.

“Hayes,” she whispers again.