Fireworks streamed through the darkened sky—electric pinks and golds and reds and purples—like glowing sea creatures, Danielle thought. She'd always loved fireworks, loved the combination of calm quiet then loud booms with light crackling through, spewing like a surprise burst of color every time.

But this year, the simple act of watching fireworks didn't even begin to penetrate past the thick sludge of feelings that collected inside of her. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism to keep the hurt at bay, perhaps it was emotional exhaustion. Whichever way she looked at it, all she really wanted to do was curl up and cry. But instead, she sat on a picnic blanket on top of a castle in New Hampshire, watching a display of fire and light, listening to the ooos and ahhs of the couples snuggled for closeness and comfort around her.

"Where's Uncle Beckett?" Archer asked, then followed with a quick, "He said I could call him that. Whoa, you see that?"

More lights spewed, more booms sounded, demanding attention.

Danielle tried to numb herself to wondering the same thing as the kid—where was Beckett? But it was no longer her business, no longer healthy to wonder where the man was. For all she knew, he'd found a maid and was getting carnal in a closet somewhere in the castle.

And the thought made her want to throw up.

Because it was dark, and the couples—and kid—that surrounded all stared up to the sky, Danielle took a moment to close her eyes and just breathe. The scents of thick woods and a warm summer, she thought, would never be the same. They would always have heartache attached to them. They would always have Beckett attached to them.

Maybe it was good she would soon move to California—new scents, new scenery, new feelings. Abigail, Kara, and Emerson had all understood that she couldn't let the opportunity go for a man who wanted no commitment to her, hadn't they? She was doing the right thing, she reminded herself. It was for the best all around.

Mostly, she thought, she needed to focus on what would come next—the logistics of moving, the preparation to begin a new job. Planning, she decided, was an improvement over any other thoughts that sneaked in and sunk her heart.

Because her eyes were still closed, she smelled the clean, masculine scent of Beckett before she saw him. His hand—warm, strong, steady—touched at her back to let her know he was there, joining her on the blanket.

She didn't want to look at him, she didn't want to care. But she did anyway.

Color erupted in the sky and reflected brilliantly in the liquid gold of his eyes. Even without the explosions in the night sky, something in his eyes wound through her, swirling her insides into tiny knots she knew would take years to unravel.

And yet, she couldn't look away.

"I'm sorry," he started, his voice so low only she could hear.

She didn't know if she could bear it, to turn the Fourth of July into a holiday she'd forever want to avoid. It all hurt enough, she'd cried enough, and she didn't know if she could keep it together in front of the couples in love that huddled together on their respective blankets, watching the sky's every burst of color.

"Beckett, just don't. Not now. Just let it be," she said in a quiet whisper. "Please."

She tilted her head up, calling on her strength to singularly focus on the show that played out over their heads.

"I love you," he told her, ignoring her request. "And you asked me to be honest with you, so that's exactly what I'm going to do." He took a steadying breath, waited until she looked at him again.

And when he found her eyes swimming with tears, he hoped to hell he would know how to soothe those tears for the rest of his life. He wanted her happy—not just her usual optimistic brand of happy either. Blissfully happy. He wanted desperately to give her that, to be part of that with her.

"You know me," he continued. "You know my heart. My past. My fears. You've always seen through to the center of me, and in some ways, it scared the shit out of me. You're so smart, so focused, so dedicated, and you're going to do amazing things in the world, Danielle."

When a tear dove over, soared down her cheek, he reached out, used his thumb to wipe it away.

"And, this is probably selfish, but I think you should find a job closer to home. And before you ask why," he started, with a grin playing at his lips, anticipating, "I'm going to tell you. Or rather, I'm going to ask you."

He took another deep breath and went for broke. "Marry me, Danielle. Marry me. I can't claim to know how to be a husband, or how to do any of this, really. But I'll learn and do anything and everything in my power to make you happy. To make us happy. Marry me."

Fireworks continued to boom and crack and whistle through the night sky.

She watched him, studied him, and he felt naked beneath that look. She always could level him, he thought. And it was good—he liked knowing she had that power over him.

"I didn't hear you ask anything," she told him with sparkling eyes that lit with fireworks and hope.

"Shit," he murmured with a smile. "I'm already doing it wrong. And this is probably wrong too, but what the hell." He tugged a ring from his pocket, held it out. "Will you marry me, Danielle Mayberry?"

"What is that?" she asked, staring at the plastic ring that glowed green.

"A ring on loan until we get you proper one," he told her. "It holds many powers. So be easy on me."

She stared at the ring, emotionless, scaring him in ways he'd never considered. What if she said no? What would his world look like without her?

"One thing I need to know," she told him. "Why do you want to marry me?"

He had this, he thought, hearing Liam's words. "At first I thought I wanted this because I was panicked—terrified—that you would leave. But then I looked around. My sister is pregnant, married to the man she's loved since high school. My brother is engaged to Kara, a woman he's been drooling over since the day they met. Liam and Emerson have an awesome son with another on the way. I looked around and saw my family, and I also saw members of my family making their own families.

"And this is, I guess, a really roundabout way of saying that I want to be a family with you. You've always been here, have always been part of us, so the thought of you not being here scared me. And I'm willing to admit that because I'm holding the Green Lantern's ring, so if evil powers descend while I'm scared and vulnerable, I'll still be able to protect you."

Her lips pressed together in a soft smile, never doubting that he would protect her.

"But more than that," he kept on, "I want to live life with you. We have a hell of a lot of fun together, sure, but you see through to my heart, and I see through to yours too. And I know this is a lot, but you asked me to promise to be honest. And this is me being honest. I want to marry you, Danielle. I want to build a family with you. I want to be with you, always."

Hoping her brain hadn't completely glazed over and that she could form at least one rational thought, she opened her mouth and willed words to come out. "What happens when I get a job and have a career away from the pub?"

"Then you put on one of those sexy suits and go off to make the world a better place. Then you come home and let me peel off that sexy suit and devour every inch of you."

She chuckled, forgetting there were people around them. And knowing that he would support her, encourage her, and yes, devour her, she knew in her heart exactly what she wanted.

"I have a hard head," she told him earnestly.

"I know, it's hit the headboard many times and you're still whip smart. It isn't fair to the rest of us, really."

She laughed freely. "What I mean is that I know I operate best with structure and systems, that I'm pragmatic and like when details are done right. And I like these things about me—usually. But then you come along and make me laugh or make love to me—"

"Sometimes both at the same time."

"Yes. And those are some of my favorite moments. You remind me to have fun, to not be so serious, to let go—which I'm not very good at. But you are and I admire you for it." She touched her hand to his face, felt along the rough stubble and smooth skin, something she had been afraid she'd never feel again. "You make me a better person, Beckett. I love you."

Then she breathed deep, let go, and trusted. "And I would love to marry you."

"Yes?" His ears perked and his eyes sparked.

"Yes," she said to him. "I will marry you."

He slid the glowing green ring around her finger—oddly, it fit, he noted, knowing he'd gotten lucky—then dove on her, knocking her over and crushing her with a kiss. Cheer erupted around them, ringing along with the rapid, thundering explosions of the finale of fireworks.

Damn lucky, he thought again, smiling. A damn lucky man with a smart, sexy woman in his arms, and family all around him.