With the last question, he’d settled on one knee and brought out an open robin-blue box, complete with the most perfect round diamond sparkling on a platinum band. It was simple and not overstated or overdone. It was me—James Silver.
“James, will you take me as your partner for the back nine? Will you savor every minute by my side? Will you live a lifetime in the next half with me?”
Tears clogged my throat, and I couldn’t talk. So all I did was nod.Repeatedly.
Finally, I eked out, “Get up. Please.”
He did as he was told, taking my left hand in his and slipping the jewel on my ring finger, never allowing his gaze to leave mine.
I breathed in and out, in and out, trying to get control of the spasm in my chest. “It’s absolutely the most stunning ring I’ve ever seen. Gorgeous, but not as perfect as you. I love you, Ford. Yes. The answer is yes.I’m heading in.” I stressed the last part, hoping he got my drift.
He laughed, pulling me in tight to his chest. Now, I breathed in as he breathed out, allowing our breath to mingle like it would for the rest of our lives.
“You’re not just heading in to play the back nine, but to marry me?” He said it through a laugh, and I knew he was teasing but I still squeezed his hand and gave him a glare.
Then I whispered, “I always wanted to marry you, Ford Conway. You’re perfect for me. You are the beginning, middle, and end of my story.”
“Not as perfect as you.” He pulled my face close for a kiss, his palm on my cheek, guiding my lips toward his, and all of a sudden the doors to the gala opened and everyone was cheering us on.
Everyone except his mother, who was barking at various people, organizing a photo opportunity. “Hurry up before everyone changes into pajamas,” Beatrice was busy yelling. For a seventy-year-old, she was fast, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
I was going to spend the best second half of my life with the man of my dreams.
Jamie
A few months later…
Our wedding was on Christmas Eve.
It hadn’t even been a full year since we reunited, but Ford insisted on it. Although I didn’t argue much in late October when he suggested it. It was only a few nights after he proposed, and he had to leave in the morning for LA. We’d been in bed, of course, damp from sex, the room still smelling like smut and us, and we couldn’t be bothered to even clean up.
“Don’t be mad. Don’t let your mind start working times a trillion. Okay?” That was what he led with.
I’d only said, “What now?”
“I booked the golf club for Christmas Eve. For our wedding.”
“Our wedding? I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to pick the place together. I’m too old to turn into a bridezilla, but not old enough to be ousted from the process.”
This had Ford chuckling in bed, and I could feel his chest rising and falling with each burst of laughter.
“I’m serious,” I said through laughter myself.
After planning the gala, I could’ve easily eloped and been happy, but I was marrying a Conway…
“It felt right. We are ready to hit the back nine, and the golf club seemed like a good place to start. They’re also willing to set up certain security protocols to keep it private.”
Sitting up partway, my cheek on my palm, my elbow on the bed, I spoke. My voice was hoarse, clogged with all kinds of emotions. “You didn’t just book a place, but you obviously met about it too?”
“Yeah,” he said, bringing his palm to my cheek. “I want it to be small and meaningful, just the way you would want it.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“It’s our beginning. And of course my family has to be there, but they tend to bring a lot of hoopla. And I know you don’t want all of the noise.”
My head bobbed, nodding, but the words were stuck in my throat.
“It’s bound to snow, but I think the tenth hole is where we should say our vows. They can do a tent with a few heaters, and we can say our I do’s and then go inside for a small dinner. Honestly, I didn’t meet for very long, and the wedding planner suggested all this when I described what I thought you might like, but it’s up to you. I just wanted to make sure they could make it all happen, and to marry you right quick, James Silver.”
