Page 138 of A Heart Worth Finding
He was thankful that, over the course of the last year and a half—and the over four thousand miles and an ocean that separated them—he, Aiden, and Kenzie had remained close.
Then again, Kenzie and Jessica were family. They’d been the first ones he’d gone to when he’d decided he wanted to propose. Kenzie helped him pick out the ring over endless FaceTime calls at odd hours of the morning and night.
“So what’ve you got planned for your big night?” Aiden asked.
“Fancy dinner, champagne, pop the question, hope like hell she says yes.”
“She will,” Kenzie said confidently, and some of the tension in Jack’s chest eased.
It wasn’t that Jack didn’t think Jessica loved him enough to want to be together forever, but there was always that chance that maybe he’d read her silence on the subject wrong, and she simply wasn’t interested in changing the status of their relationship.
“I hope you’re right,” he said.
“Shewill,” Kenzie stressed. “That girl loves you more than anything.”
Jack grinned, then checked his watch. “Fuck,” he said. “I gotta go.”
“Oh, boo!” Kenzie shouted at him.
“Bunny, we’ve been on the phone for over an hour. I have to cook before Jess gets home.”
“Oh, fuck,” Kenzie said. “Bye! Good luck!”
“Good luck, bro!” Aiden yelled before Jack hung up.
The next hour after getting off the phone with his friends was a blur of cooking dinner, littering their two room flat with rose petals from three bouquets and a disgusting number of candles, and setting the table with the fanciest plates and silverware they had, complete with a single rose in a small mason jar and a bottle of champagne chilling in bucket.
He was just plating the food when Jessica walked through the door.
Right on time.
When Jessica walked into the room, Jack stood by their small, circular dining table, the bottle of champagne in his hands, waiting to be popped open.
Jessica stopped in her tracks. “What is all of this?”
“It’s our anniversary!”
“Technically, our anniversary is tomorrow,” she said. “Since that kiss didn’t happen until after midnight.”
Jack waved a hand. “Semantics. If I say today is our anniversary, then today is our anniversary.”
“Okay…” Jessica said. “Is that why you’re dressed like that?”
She gestured at his person, where he’d switched out his usual lounge attire for a starched—heavily, he should add; the dry cleaner down the street always used too much of the stuff—white button down and khaki slacks, foregoing his standard bare feet for black socks.
He refused to propose with bare feet. He didn’t know why, but something about that grossed him out. He wanted every single aspect of this evening to be perfect, for him and for Jessica especially, and his knobby old athlete’s feet just ruined the picture.
“What?” he asked, looking down at his outfit. “Can’t a guy dress up for his girl every now and then?”
“Honey, you wear a suit like every other day.”
That was true, he supposed. Being a semi-professional hockey player meant he had to look the part when he arrived at the arena on game days.
“Just…don’t worry about my outfit,” he said, moving to pull one of the chairs away from the table. Jessica sat, but not before shooting him an incredulous look.
“Oh, now what?” he asked. “Am I not allowed to pull chairs out for my girl either? Next you’re going to tell me I can’t hold your hand or kiss you goodnight.”
“I’m not saying any of those things,” she said. “You’re just acting…strange. Fidgety.”
