He grins.
“And while I considered making everyone go around and say how Scotty has changed each of our lives”—I level him with a look, making him chuckle—“I know better. Your presence is enough. The photos you’ve brought to fill her walls. The food. The company.”
He raises his bottle of Coke. “To old faces and new,” he says. “And to the woman that’s had my heart since I was seventeen, Scotty Armstrong.”
When everyone echoes, “To Scotty,” I flip him off.
Like it always goes with him, he smiles.
So do I.
Fifty
Thefood—eventheturkey—isdelicious. A celebration in the truest sense. Wren, Lyra, and Blue play every record and June’s boys end up in the lake with Molly. It’s loud and chaotic.
Ford and I stand off to the side. June was right; Ford swept me clear off my feet. At the table of photos, my heart is so full it might pop. Me in some of them, people I know and love in all of them. Even Gary and his maid, in some weird way, is endearing.
Ford hooks a pinkie through mine. “Tell me something real,” he says so only I can hear.
I swallow slowly, tightening my pinkie around his. “I’ve been working on a good speech to give you tomorrow pouring my heart out and you ruined it.”
He chuckles. “You done pushing me?”
I look at him, lips twitching as I fight a smile. “You think anyone will notice if we sneak away for a few?” I ask.
He bites his bottom lip. “I’m going to need more than a few.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” I tell him as I slap his chest. “Entirely.”
He chuckles and nods toward his truck.
“Where to?” he asks as he turns the key.
“Fight Club.”
He gives me a confused look but doesn’t argue, driving us the few minutes it takes to get there.
He follows me to the building—empty because of the holiday—and I slip a key out of my pocket, unlocking the door to the vacant side. Our footsteps echo as we walk in, and the door slams behind us.
“Do I need to be worried?” he asks, hint of amusement in his voice.
“Probably,” I say with a smirk, taking his hands in mine and walking him to the center of the room. “It occurred to me in your annoying mission to keep me with you that me and you aren’t the only things I want to change about the rest of my life.”
“Oh really?” he asks. “What else?”
“For one,” I say, “I came to an agreement with the Sellecks this week to sell the crematorium to them.”
His eyes widen.
“I had terms, of course. Wanda and Dondi stay on with Wanda in charge. And, contingent on everything going through, I bought this building.”
A breath wooshes out of him. “You what?”
“And Fight Club.”
His eyes bulge. “What?”
“I didn’t stutter, Officer,” I say, taking a step toward him. “I want to turn this into whatever you want to turn it into. I want this to be my what’s next. My now to forever. With you.”