Whatever time later, we were still dancing.
The crowd on the floor had grown thicker as the band settled exclusively into slower songs, while larger groups spread across the grounds around firepits—kids still skipping through the crowds with sparklers, laughing in the distance. But here, under the string lights where other couples were simply enjoying being together, everything was soft and comfortable.
“Sunday Kind of Love” drifted through the evening air.
Alex’s head was tucked against my shoulder, our hands pressed between us against my chest. My right hand stayed firm at her lower back, holding her close enough that there wasn’t any space left between us. Her other hand had slipped around my waist atsome point. We weren’t so much dancing as just being together.
I felt her sigh and relax completely into me.
“You good?” I spoke low, just for her.
“Mm-hmm,” she didn’t lift her head. “Don’t wanna move.”
I kissed the top of her head and rested my cheek against her temple. “Then we don’t have to.” I stroked my thumb along her lower back and she hummed contentedly.
Somewhere in the distance, someone laughed. The celebration kept going on around us, and that was fine. We had our own thing happening.
She shifted slightly, lifting her head enough to look at me. Her eyes were dark in the glow, but there was heat in her expression.
“I have something to show you,” she whispered.
Curiosity sparked anew. “Yeah?”
She threaded her fingers through mine. “Come with me.”
Low lights marked a path toward the tree line, away from the main festivities. We walked in comfortable silence. Behind us, someone let out a whoop as the first firework whistled into the sky.
The boom echoed across the ranch a second later. Then another. Colors exploding overhead—red and gold and brilliant white against the darkening blue, Alex’s flame-orange dress catching the glow.
She glanced back and smiled but kept walking.
The fireworks kept coming—burst after burst lighting up the night, the celebration reaching its peak as we moved away from it.
The glamping tents came into view ahead. Cream-colored canvas with those twin-peak tension roofs Elowyn had been so proud of. Three of them were spread out along the property edge, each positioned for privacy.
The one on the left was lit from within—soft glow through the canvas, welcoming and intimate and clearly meant for us.
I stopped walking.
Alex turned, still holding my hand, her eyes finding mine.
“You arranged this?” I swallowed, my voice rough.
“I thought we deserved somewhere private. Just us. For tonight.”
The fireworks kept exploding behind us, but I couldn’t look away from her.
“Darlin’...”
“I didn’t want to assume anything,” she bit her lip, “but—”
I kissed her. Cut off whatever she’d been about to say with my mouth on hers, my fingers slipping into her hair while my other hand found her waist and pulled her closer. She made a surprised sound that turned into something deeper, her arms coming up around my neck.
When I pulled back, I kept my forehead pressed to hers. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I ran my thumb along her jaw. “Come on. Show me what you’ve got planned.”
