Page 31 of All That Glitters in Pelican Point

She steps closer, fingers curling in my shirt. "Too late."

I laugh, the sound low and real, but there’s something else boiling up—deeper, sharper. The kind of emotion I usually keep buried beneath bravado and mission focus. But it’s not staying quiet this time. It surges up, raw and loud, wrapping around my ribs like a vice and whispering all the things I haven’t dared admit. Not just that I want her here. But that I need her here. That somewhere between dives and danger, she became the anchor I didn’t know I was missing.

"I know we haven’t known each other long," I say, my voice low and steady, thick with everything I haven’t said until now, "but nothing in my life—not the Navy, not the treasure hunts, not even Serenity—has felt as right as this. As for you, I can’t imagine going back to a life without you in it. Not just as a partner on the water, but as my partner. In crime. In chaos. In everything."

Candace wanders over, handing Crystal a bottle of champagne and giving me side-eye. "Make the former frogman here tell you he loves you before you answer him."

Crystal laughs—a sound that reminds me of champagne bubbles. "You heard the lady. Tell me you love me, jackass."

I look at Ryan, who comes up behind Candace, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck. "You heard the lady."

I laugh, taking a knee. Something told me this morning to open up the onboard safe and retrieve my mother's ring. Crystal gasps as I hold it up to her. "I love you, Crystal, and I'd be ever so grateful if you'd agree to being my wife."

Candace glances over her shoulder at Ryan. "He did that so much better than you."

"Yeah, but my ring..."

"That's my ring, jackass."

Ryan laughs. "I stand corrected. Your ring is much bigger."

Crystal's eyes lock on mine. Smart. Fierce. Vulnerable in the ways that count. "You're sure?"

"I’m not sure of a lot of things, but I'm sure of you… of us. I'd like an answer and an affirmation of your feelings."

She grabs my shirt and hauls me up to my feet, her lips locking onto mine with a fierce possessiveness and profound passion. "I love you too. Now gimme my ring." She takes the ring, kisses me again, and slips it onto her finger.

Before either of us can say more, Mike climbs aboard. Crisp polo, perfect teeth, the Hollywood producer vibe that makes me want to roll my eyes and punch something at the same time.

"You two," he says, pointing between us. "I have notes. Big ones. But we can work with this. We'll pivot the concept. She's in."

Crystal blinks. "What?"

"The show," Mike says. "We shift the narrative. Treasure brawn meets brains. Romance, history, danger, legacy. The Hunt: Cruz and Crystal, Dive and Conquer, Rogue Currents. We’ll figure it out. I’m thinking the addition of Crystal gives us enormous potential… and we could do podcasts, TED talks, and the like."

Crystal snorts. "I haven’t even signed anything."

"Doesn’t matter. The network loves you. And the chemistry? Gold."

I glance at her, then back at Mike. "You're not wrong."

She flushes, then rolls her eyes. "Fine. But I get final cut."

"Deal," Mike says.

Denny tosses us two champagne flutes with the flair of a man who thinks he's bartending in Monaco. The crew’s already celebrating like it’s the wrap party to an epic series finale—whoops and laughter echo off the water like cannon fire. Ryan and Candace are in their own bubble near the bow, kissing like they're trying to beat a Nicolas Sparks novel at its own game—slow-motion, golden light, the whole damn montage.

But none of it touches me. Not really. Because all I see is her.

Crystal. Wind-whipped hair tangled like sea-thread, eyes bright and unreadable as they flick from person to person. She’s trying to process it all, bottle it up, maybe scribble it into a journal page later when the world calms down. And it’s then I realize—this whole insane journey, the storms and sabotage, the near-death dives and ancient rings—it all brought me to her. My real prize.

And somehow, I know she sees it too. Not just the moment. Me. Us.

She clinks her glass against mine. "To pacts, pirates, and partners in crime."

"And to whatever comes next," I say.

She grins. "Bring it on."

And for the first time in forever, I believe it. Not just in the happily-ever-after that people like me aren't supposed to get, but in the kind where squalls are survived, not avoided. Where love isn't a distraction from the mission but the reason you keep going. The horizon's wide open, salt-washed and sunlit—and so are we. Whatever comes next doesn't matter. I've locked down the true treasure and the light I see shining in Crystal's eyes tells me the old saying that all that glitters isn't gold couldn't be more true.

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