For the Love of Donuts

Epilogue

Skye

~almost a year later~

“Is that what I think it is?” Kym gasps, looking past me. “Girl, you should turn around now, because you’ll wanna see this.”

My eyebrows crease at her words as she dance-walks over to her own desk, but I turn around in my swivel chair anyway, and that’s when I understand her reaction.

Tatum is coming this way with a bouquet.

A bouquet of freaking donuts .

“Jacobs, why are—”

“I’ve come to whisk you away,” he interrupts with a grin. “Zoya already said I could.”

Before I can even form a reply, he’s leaning down to kiss me. It’s only for one, brief moment—but when his lips glide across mine, my eyes immediately start drifting shut. Even the shortest of our kisses will always have an effect on me. Every. Single. Time.

“So, are you going to willingly come with me, Pink Stuff?” he asks me while I’m blinking to refocus my gaze. “Or do I need to carry you out of here?”

I flash him a lazy smile. “Mmm, that’s a very tempting offer, but we don’t need to resort to any drastic measures.”

After all, I’m a simple girl. My boyfriend is here, and he brought donuts, why wouldn’t I go with him? Unless—

“Wait a second, is this some kind of trap?” I narrow my eyes at Tatum as I get up from my chair. “Are you bribing me with that lovely, edible bouquet so you can drag me to a secret dentist appointment? Or something that’s equally terrifying?”

He rolls his eyes before capturing my hand with his free one. “Right, because it would make total sense for me to feed you something sugary if I was taking you to a secret dentist appointment.”

“Hmm, does this mean I get to eat one of those donuts now then?” I bat my eyelashes at him as we walk out into the lobby area. “Because that one with the chocolate sprinkles looks like it’s waiting for me to—”

“Not yet.” He uses the side of his body to push open one of the exit doors. “We need to stop somewhere first.”

“What? No!” I whine as he leads me outside. “Tatum, that’s not fair!”

“Ya know, I had a feeling you’d say that. But just trust me, okay?”

“It’s our first date all over again,” I huff, following him to his car. “Are you at least going to tell me where we’re going this time?”

He lets go of my hand and unlocks his car before opening the passenger door for me. “We’re stopping at my place.”

Okay, well I wasn’t expecting that.

Interesting .

I get into the car and carefully take the donut bouquet from him. “Why are we stopping there?”

“I just need to take care of something,” he says, kissing my forehead. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

Now, tell me how I’m supposed to stay annoyed after that. I can’t .

Tatum holds my hand during the whole drive, and I melt a little more whenever his thumb brushes across my fingers. I’m so in love with him. He’s everything.

Soon we’re at his house, and I try not to salivate over the donuts as I trail behind him to the front door. Can you blame me though? I haven’t had lunch yet!

Tatum fishes his keys out of his pocket, and I smile at the small donut charm dangling from its spot on his key ring. We went to a flea market several months ago, and when he saw the charm for sale, he bought it right away. At first, I thought he was buying it for me, but then he made it very clear that wasn’t his plan. “I want to carry something around that reminds me of you.”

Tatum unlocks the door and raises an eyebrow at me. “What are you smiling about?”

“Just thinking about you.” I hold the donut bouquet away from us, so it won’t get crushed when I lean forward to kiss him. “And thinking about you makes me smile.”

“Dang, you’re cute,” he murmurs against my mouth. “I think I might keep you.”

His arm snakes around my waist as he kisses me deeper, making it impossible for me to stay quiet. I moan his name more than once, especially when he bites my lower lip and tugs me closer to his body.

“So distracting,” he huffs, still giving me a countless amount of delicious kisses. “We were supposed to go straight inside.”

“To do what?” I ask in between panted breaths. “You never actually told me why we needed to stop here.”

I have a few suggestions in mind, that’s for sure…

“I know, I know,” he drawls as our kissing slowly comes to an end, “let’s go inside.”

He doesn’t tell me anything else though. He just opens the front door and disappears into the house.

“Tate,” I say, stepping inside as well, “what is—”

I cut myself off with a quiet gasp as I take in the appearance of his living room. Pink confetti and heart-shaped paper cutouts are all over the floor. Twinkly lights are hanging above his couch with small pictures of us clipped to the strands. There’s even soft music playing in the background.

“Tatum,” I try speaking again, “I don’t—”

“No rose petals. No candles.” He closes the front door and takes my donut bouquet from me, so he can place it on the coffee table. “And no big, awkward display in front of strangers at a restaurant.”

This time, I gasp in realization. When we were pretending to be engaged last year, I told Tatum that I didn’t want any of those three things to be part of our fake proposal story. But does this mean what I think it means?

Is he actually—

“Sit down, Pink Stuff,” he says, guiding me over to the couch. “You’re not allowed to faint on me.”

My heart is racing.

My head is spinning.

And when Tatum drops to one knee in front of me, I can feel the tears starting to build up.

“Skye Meredith Carson,” his voice is shaky as he takes hold of my left hand, “a year ago today, you were sitting on this couch and telling me that you lied to Zoya about being engaged. That you told her your fake fiancé’s name was Tatum.” He lets go of my hand, but it’s only so he can grab a small jewelry box that was hidden beside the couch. “And I was thinking now would be the perfect time for me to offer myself as your real fiancé. If you’ll have me.”

He opens the jewelry box, and inside is a ring with the prettiest pink stone I’ve ever seen.

I’m flat-out sobbing now. “Y-you picked out a p-pink engagement ring for m-me?”

“None of the other ones felt right,” he whispers, using his free hand to brush my tears away. “Does this mean you like it?”

“I-I love it,” I blubber through my sniffles. “It’s perfect. All of this is perfect. The lights, the donuts, the pictures—everything is perfect!”

“Baby,” he drawls with a gentle smile, “do you want to marry me?”

Do I want to marry him ?

He knows the answer, but I tell him yes at least a hundred times while kissing every inch of his face. And when he slips the ring on my finger, it’s a perfect fit.

“Dria let me borrow hers to make sure,” he says before pressing his lips against the back of my hand. “She wanted me to propose months ago, but I knew it’d have to be today, even if all the waiting felt like it would kill me.”

“Hmm,” I hum, gazing happily at my fiancé , “maybe we should have a shorter engagement then…just to be safe. What are you doing January 5 th ?”

“January 5 th , huh?” His half-smirk tells me that he also remembers the date we had agreed on for our fake wedding. “I’ve got plans that day for sure.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask as he tucks a few strands of hair behind my ear. “What kind of plans?”

“The best kind of plans.” He kisses me once. Twice. Then a third time. “I’m marrying my best friend.”