Page 152 of Sweet Caroline
The volunteer returns with some paper towels, and he and Miles crouch down to clean up the small puddle on the floor.
“Thank you,” Sunny says. One by one, she plucks each ring from my palm, sliding them delicately over her fingers. “You know, I just hate that wet feeling under my rings and— oh!” The last ring slips from her grasp and falls to the floor, skittering a couple feet away.
“I got it!” Miles says. “Here.”
It’s only when the camera flash goes off that I realize how this looks; Miles is down on one knee, holding a ring toward us. Towardme.
In a stunned moment of slow-mo understanding, Miles glances down at the ring, then at me, then does a double take at the photographer.
Tripping through my own state of shock, it takes me a moment to process the recognition on his face. I turn toward the man with the camera, my jaw dropping.
Blond, curly hair. That newsboy cap.
The moaner’s wide eyes flit between the two of us and he clutches his camerato his chest.
With resigned amusement, Miles drags himself up to his full height as the guy silently shuffles backward, then pivots on his heel and strides clear across the room without turning back.
“Well,” Miles says to me, passing Sunny her ring. “That just happened.”
“At least he kept his mouth shut this time?” I laugh and wrap my arms around his waist, lifting on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Should we track him down and explain?”
“Nah.” He glances toward the moaner once more, then hugs me close, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “I don’t think he’ll be brave enough to do anything with that photo. And, even if he did, worst-case scenario is, what? Someone spreads a rumor that we’re happy?”
I gaze up into his blue eyes, my safe harbor, feeling like my heart might burst.
“Think we can handle that,” he adds. “Right?”
I nod and lift up again to kiss him.
Because he’s right. We can handle anything.
EPILOGUE
MILES
Eight months later
“My feet are killing me,” Caroline sighs, picking her way toward her front door in bare feet, a pair of bright turquoise heels dangling from her fingertips. She sweeps a stray curl from her eyes and glances over at me, her voice breathy when she adds, “But that was so much fun.”
“Yeah.” I reach for her hand when she wobbles, steadying her. “Still kinda bananas that my brother’s married now.”
Humming a soft sound of agreement, she digs out her keys, then seems to notice I’m hanging back. “You coming?” She throws me an expectant look over her shoulder as she unlocks the door.
“Yeah, in a sec.” I stretch my neck. “Gonna stay out here for a few. Get some fresh air.”
“Okay.”
I cross the porch and pull her close for a kiss. “I won’t be long.”
“Good,” she murmurs against my lips.
I jog down the steps as she disappears inside, then quickly check my phone. It’s one in the morning. I’m beyond beat, but Ican’t resist a quiet moment alone, with only the burbling river as my acoustic backdrop. After all the loud music, talking, and shouting over the noise at Jude and Olena’s wedding, my ears are almost ringing. With a deep inhale, I let nature’s version of quiet wash over me. A bat skitters across the night sky somewhere to my left, and I can just make out the occasional hoot of an unseen owl across the river.
My nocturnal buddies.
I cast a glance back at the house. Caroline’s huge bedroom window glows golden in the night and I catch sight of her moving through the room inside, her arms up as she shakes out her hair.
Stepping a few paces to my left, I position myself better to watch her.
