Page 126 of Hang the Moon
“No?” Annie pouted. “Brendon, are you serious?”
“One last time,” he promised, as much to her as to himself.
He was giving himself one last shot to do this. He refused to chicken out again.
She rolled her eyes, smiling up at him fondly. “One more time. And then we get to go on whatever rides I want for the next hour, okay?” She bumped his hip with hers. “Or did you forget it’s my birthday?”
Of course he hadn’t.
Today was Annie’s birthday, and it was almost seven months since her fateful trip to Seattle. Two hundred and three days sincetheir first kiss. He’d counted. Almost six months since she’d moved to Seattle permanently. Five months since he’d blurted out that he loved her and she’d shyly returned the sentiment. Also five months since she’d gotten her business up and running, working as a freelance translator specializing in business contracts while occasionally taking on passion projects outside her field of specialization. Four months since she’d given up living with Margot and moved in with him because she spent most of her time at his place anyway. It was the practical choice.
He was 99.99 percent sure she’d say yes, but it was the .01 percent that had him sweating.
Well, that and the fact he was wearing two shirts.
He leaned down, brushing his lips against her forehead. “Of course not.” How could he have when he’d booked this trip as a surprise specifically for her birthday, whisking her out of Washington for an impromptu vacation? Hopefully, the first of a lifetime of vacations for them. Vacations to places much more exciting than California. But he had a goal and it required Space Mountain. “You can pick the next ride. And I promise to feel you up on it.”
She threw her head back and laughed, making him grin. “How magnanimous of you.”
The line moved forward. Inside his left pocket, his cell buzzed. He surreptitiously checked it.
MARGOT (12:32 P.M.):Did you do it yet? Did you? I’m fucking dying over here.
He bit back a chuckle.
BRENDON (12:35 P.M.):Not yet. You that eager to be my Best Woman?
MARGOT (12:36 P.M.):As long as I get to wear a killer tux, I’m all in. Now, pony the fuck up and do it already!!!!
He tucked his phone away, nerves diminishing, but only for a moment. The closer they got to the front, snaking their way through the winding queue, the more difficult he found it to stand still. He rocked forward on his toes and back on his heels, bouncing worse than the group of small children several paces ahead. He raked his fingers through his damp hair and tugged at his neckline again, sweat dripping down his scalp and the back of his neck, soaking through both his layers. He was rocking armpit sweat stains, for crying out loud, but he couldn’t back down. Not when he’d come this far, this close.
As soon as this was over, he’d need about a gallon of water to rehydrate. Hell, something with electrolytes, too. All this stress was probably wreaking havoc on his B vitamins.
“Hey.” Annie tugged on his sleeve, brow pinched in concern. “Take one of these off. I swear, you don’t need two shirts when it’s over eighty out.”
“I’m fine,” he lied, adjusting the collar of his chambray button-down. “I’m going for a certain aesthetic, Annie.”
She looked at him like he’d lost it but smiled affably. “You’re so weird.”
“You love me anyway.”
She beamed up at him. “I must be just as weird, because I do.”
I do.
He rolled his shoulders back and stepped forward when theline moved. He could do this. Five more minutes of risking heatstroke and—fuck, he’d think about the rest when it came time.
Maybe it was the feel of Annie’s fingers laced through his, her thumb stroking soothing circles against the back of his hand, but time flew until the attendant waved them forward, gesturing for them to take the first two seats on the cart. He let Annie slide in first and then crawled in after, pulling down the safety bar over his shoulders.
This was the point where he’d chickened out the last four times they’d ridden this ride. All he had to do was unbutton his shirt, revealing the tee beneath. Which had a very important question printed on it, just for this occasion.
While Annie was preoccupied strapping herself in, he reached for the topmost button of his shirt, fingers trembling. He stole a deep breath in and parted his shirt the rest of the way, careful to keep the message beneath hidden until they took off, rocketing into the darkness.
The ride began to move and Annie reached out, gripping his hand. He squeezed back and, with his right hand, adjusted his shirt until the words beneath could be seen. Not by Annie, but by the hidden camera, wherever it was located, the one that snapped a picture of passengers on the ride.
As the roller coaster crept up the tracks and plummeted down into the dark abyss, he prayed his face didn’t look too nauseated. Annie was right; five times was pushing it. As much as he adored roller coasters, lovedthisroller coaster, riding it five times back-to-back was rougher on his system now than it had been when he was a kid. His nerves weren’t helping his queasiness, either.
At the first drop, their cart zipping along the track, her grip on his hand intensified, strangling his fingers. He squeezed back and clenched his eyes shut, smiling despite the anxious churning of his stomach. There was no going back now. Not that he’d want to. He never wanted to go back. Not when he could go forward with Annie.
