Page 28 of The Hampton Beach Café 6
He looked up to meet her gaze and raised the papers he held slightly. “So…I take it you're staying, then?”
Frances nodded. “Yes.”
He dropped the pages, stepped forward, and took her in his arms again. Between kisses, she filled him in on more of her plans, and his ever increasing role in them.
EPILOGUE
Six months later
The rows of mismatched vintage chairs in the sand looked equally out of place as they did perfectly at home. The deep burgundy and black pashmina scarves draped over the back of each of them waved in the wind.
Trust Lucinda to want a beach wedding in early spring,Frances thought as she fussed with her midi-length gold bridesmaid's dress.
Everything was ready and everything was perfect. She was sure of it. Frances looked around at the group of their friends making their way down the sand. Many of them carried their shoes in hand, while others had taken Lucinda and Vincent's invitation seriously and had worn running shoes with their formal wear. It was quite a sight to behold, Frances had to admit.
Duncan was one of them. He wore a hideous t-shit with a tuxedo printed on it. Where he had found such a remnant of the early 2000s, Frances wasn't sure, but the ripped black jeans and white trainers came together in some kind of weird way. He was helping Martha navigate the sand—she had refused to take her shoes off or wear trainers. She waved to Frances as they made their way down towards them. Just behind them was Kennedy and her new boyfriend. He was a colleague from the council who had admired her tenacity for years and finally shot his shot when Clarkson was firmly out of the picture.
Alex appeared beside her, surprising Frances with a kiss on the cheek.
“Your mom is almost done with Lucinda's hair. She wanted me to come and get you. You look beautiful, by the way,” he said. “At least as beautiful as usual, if not more so.”
Frances laughed and turned to kiss him properly. “Cliche, but not unappreciated.”
No matter how many times she kissed him, it was just as thrilling as that first kiss in the kitchen of Café Bruno all those months ago.
Opening her eyes, she took stock of his face like she did every time—his long eyelashes, strong jawline, the fine lines in the corner of his eyes. Her heart beat harder against her rib cage. She loved him. She knew it in her bones.
“So,” he said, “Lucinda made me promise I wouldn't make a scene on her wedding day.”
“Well, I should hope not!” Frances said, laughing.
Alex took her hand, and they walked a little way down the beach, though Frances could still hear the chatter of the guests arriving and milling around. Alex looked gorgeous in his suit, though he had refused to wear a tie. Frances didn’t care. The white button-down shirt was open at the collar; she could see the hollow spot at the base of his throat, and she always loved seeing that.
“And I did give her my word, but I'm also really bad at keeping anything to myself, so that means you're going to have to do the hard work,” Alex said.
“What do you mean?” Frances asked, confused.
“Well…” Alex said, “I've been thinking about this for a while, if I'm honest. And I can't think of a single reason why we shouldn't.”
They had stopped near the water’s edge and Alex turned to face her, taking both her hands in his.
“Frances,” he said seriously. “I love you, you know that.”
“And I love you,” she said, smiling back at him.
It wasn't the first time they'd confessed this to each other, but every time she heard him say it, her heart raced and she counted her lucky stars.
“So, I'm going to give you this box…” he said, “…you don't have to open it, but I'm going to give it to you. Then, maybe tomorrow, when you've had plenty of time to think about it, open it, and let me know if I get to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Frances blinked hard and stared up at him, her perfect Alex. He looked nervous, but mostly handsome and breathless. She realized that he had dropped one of her hands, retrieved a dark green velvet box from his pocket, and was holding it out in front of him.
“I don't need to think about it, and I don’t need to open it,” she said, placing her hand over the box. “Yes, my answer is yes.”
His eyes welled up with tears as he grinned and swept her up into a crushing embrace, raining kisses down on her face. Frances laughed as he picked her up and twirled her around on the spot.
He didn't let go, and instead pulled her close and buried his face in her hair.
“Now, let's go celebrate our friends. You keep that in your pocket,” Alex said, before dropping his voice to a whisper. “Future Mrs. Lockwood.”
