Page 173 of The Wild Card

I laugh against his chest, and he holds me tighter, and somewhere above us the first stars are appearing, bright and clear the way they only are out here.

“I love you,” I tell him.

“I love you too.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Now come on. That champagne isn’t going to drink itself.”

We walk down to the dock, hand in hand, and settle onto the blanket. He pops the champagne—badly, foam going everywhere, making us both laugh—and pours two glasses.

“To your book,” he says, raising his glass.

“To us,” I counter.

“To us,” he agrees.

We drink. We kiss. We lie back on the blanket and watch the stars wheel overhead, my head on his chest, his arm around me, the ring glinting on my finger every time I move my hand. It’s a solitaire diamond on a shiny gold band. Modest and perfect and exactly what I always pictured.

“Crew?”

“Hmm?”

“My mom is going to lose her mind.”

He laughs. “I know. I asked your dad’s permission last month. He’s been keeping the secret. I think it’s been killing him.”

“You asked my dad?”

“I wanted to do it right.”

I prop myself up to look at him. “You really are something else, Crew Jensen.”

“I’m trying.” He traces a finger down my cheek. “For you, I’m trying.”

“You don’t have to try. You just have to be here.”

“I’m here.” He pulls me back down, tucking me against his side. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

We stay like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other and the night and the future stretching out before us.

It’s not perfect. It never will be. We’ll fight and struggle and have days when everything feels impossible.

But we’ll also have this—starlight and champagne and the quiet certainty of knowing we chose each other.

And that’s enough.

That’s everything.

Chapter Forty-Two

Interrupted

Crew

I wake up slowly, which never happens.

My internal clock is a merciless thing. It doesn’t care about weekends or holidays or the fact that I was up until two in the morning doing certain… activities.

But this morning, something’s different.

This morning, I surface in layers. The first thing I register is warmth. The kind that seeps into your bones, the kind that has a heartbeat. The second thing I register is the smell. Vanilla and coconut and something underneath that’s just… her.