Page 94 of By Your Side
He didn’t hesitate. We slipped out into the cool night, laughter tumbling between us as we hurried past the neon-lit windows and across the parking lot. The world felt spun with possibility, electric in its quiet.
Hunter opened the passenger door, and I slid in, heart hammering, nerves and anticipation tangling beneath my skin. He rounded the hood and climbed behind the wheel, his silhouette dark and sure against the glow of the dashboard lights. For a moment, he just looked at me, his thumb tracing lazy circles atop my knuckles.
Neither of us said a word as he started the truck and pulled out onto the empty road. The town faded behind us, replaced by fields and forest, the windows down just enough to let the cool air brush over our skin.
Music spilled softly from the radio—a song we both knew but neither named. Hunter reached for my hand, threading our fingers together, anchoring me to the present. We drove on, each mile smoothing the static between us, turning the urgent heat of the bar into something slower, sweeter, and impossibly tender.
When he finally stopped, the only witnesses were the stars shining in the endless sky and our own breathless, unspoken hope.
Chapter 33
Paige
The bed of Hunter’s old pickup had never been glamorous, but that night, under a sky littered with stars, it felt perfect.
He’d driven us out past the edge of Honeybrook Hollow, up the winding road where the trees opened wide and the air smelled like pine and wild grass. He spread a soft quilt over the truck bed and helped me up.
I leaned back on my elbows, staring at the night sky. “You know,” I said, my voice carrying in the stillness, “seventeen-year-old me thought the back of your truck was the height of cool. I can’t believe you still have it.”
“It’s a classic. My dad knows how to pick ‘em.” He chuckled, stretching out beside me, his arm sliding under my shoulders to pull me close. “And seventeen-year-old me thought the same thing. Still does.”
The crickets filled the silence, their steady hum grounding me. My life had been chaos for so long, but here, in the truck bed with him, everything felt peaceful. Safe. Right.
When I turned to look at him, he was already watching me. His expression was steady, serious, but soft in a way that made my breath catch.
“What?” I asked.
He shifted, reaching into his jacket pocket. My heart stuttered as he pulled out a small box and held it between us.
“Hunter—”
“I know we used to joke about that pact,” he said, his voice low and certain. “But Paige, I wasn’t joking when I brought it up again. Not really. When we were kids, I didn’t know what we’d go through or how much we’d change along the way. But I knew—even back then—I always wanted you in my life. It just took us longer to get where we belong.”
The box flipped open in his calloused hand, revealing a simple ring. Gold, with a single diamond that caught the starlight. Not flashy. Just round and brilliant, and beautiful in its simplicity. I pressed a hand to my mouth, breathless as it sparkled under the starlight.
“I’ve loved you a long time,” he said, his gaze locked with mine. “And I don’t ever want to spend another day pretending I can live without you. So, Paige Darlington, will you marry me?”
Tears blurred the stars above us. My laugh broke out, wet and shaky. “Yes. Yes, I will marry you, Hunter Cassidy.”
The relief on his face hit me like a tidal wave, stealing what breath I had left. He pulled me into his arms, kissing me hard, deep, until the crickets faded, the night air vanished, and there was only us.
When we broke apart, I pressed my forehead to his. “So, is this what happens when you keep a pact?”
He grinned, slipping the ring onto my finger, his thumb brushing over it once it was in place. “No. This is what happens when you finally get everything you’ve ever wanted.”
I curled into his chest, my hand fisted in his shirt, my heart so full it felt like it might burst. And under that blanket of stars, in the back of his old Chevy truck, I finally let myself believe we’d made it home.
Epilogue
Paige
The Honeybrook Inn’s reception hall had never looked prettier. Twinkle lights draped from the rafters, flowers spilled over the tables in mason jars, and Piper’s cake—three tiers of lavender buttercream perfection—stood proudly in the corner, already making my mouth water.
It wasn’t a huge wedding. Just family, and a few close friends. But it was more than enough. It was everything I’d ever wanted, even if I’d never let myself admit it before.
My kids stood at my side, all three of them glowing in their own way.
Lark sniffled openly into a tissue Piper had shoved at her. “You look so pretty, Mom.”
