Shep raises his drink. “Cheers to that.”
This seemed like a good idea in theory—beach, sunset, heartfelt speech, ring—but now, with Shep bouncing on the balls of his feet and Bennett acting like this whole thing is a hostage situation, I’m rethinking everything.
I check the time again. I wanted this to be a surprise. Something special. Her favorite place, her favorite guy—me,in case that wasn’t clear.
Bennett sighs and stands. “Let’s run the checklist again. Ring?”
I pat my pocket.
“Speech?”
“Rough outline.”
“Flares?”
Shep salutes.
Bennett groans.
I turn back to the water, take a deep breath, and try to calm the adrenaline ripping through my bloodstream.
She’s almost here.
And I’ve never wanted to win so badly in my life.
Bennett is pacing now, too, which should make me feel better, except he’s doing it like someone preparing to bury a body. Meanwhile, Shep’s halfway down the beach, testing one of the flares.
“Shep!” I bark. “You light that early, and I swear to God, I’ll make you eat it.”
He turns, hands raised. “Relax, lovebird. I’m just checking the trajectory. Can’t have these bad boys aiming at your fiancée’s face.”
“She’s not my fiancée yet.”
“Manifest it, bro!”
Bennett drags a hand down his face. “I’m surrounded by idiots.”
I glance back toward the dunes, my stomach doing that twisty, fluttery thing it only does when Joely’s involved. Which is always now, apparently. The second I spotted her at the holiday party in that dress, everything clicked. And then she let me love her like I’ve been aching to for years, and now I can’t stop picturing her next to me—forever.
“Shep,” I say, trying to sound calm, “please tell me you didn’t bring sparklers, too.”
He beams. “Bro. I’m not amonster.Of course I brought sparklers. They’re in Bennett’s truck.”
My brother lets out a noise that can only be described as an emotional exorcism. “This isn’t the fucking Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, you jackass.”
“I had to plan for contingencies!”
“Like what?”
“Like maybe she says no, and we have to distract you with fire.”
I open my mouth. Close it. Look at Bennett.
He shrugs. “I mean… it’s not the worst plan.”
God help me.
I reach into my pocket again, double checking the ring box for the third time in ten minutes. Still there. Still burning a hole through my thigh.