Punc kept his eyes on San Jose Boulevard. If he’d done this at the clubhouse, they’d have had an audience and a blow-out party would have ensued. After he’d given her a property cut, he’d learned that Savannah preferred keeping things low-key.
“Ted, are you listening to me?” Savannah asked, cutting into his thoughts.
“Yeah. It’s a surprise, babe. A good one.”
She glanced out the window. “I’ll take your word for it. It’s been nice not dealing with surprises left and right.”
He reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. “We’ll both be surprised because I’ve never been to this place.”
She nudged her bicep into his. “If we don’t like it, promise we’ll stop at Cold Stone on the way back.”
The turn for Muriel’s neighborhood came into view and he veered left. “Don’t borrow trouble, sweetheart.”
She glanced up and shook her head. “Wait. Why are we at Epping Forest?”
He didn’t answer that because it would give too much away. He’d asked Catalina if she knew Savannah’s ring size. A few days later, Cat came to him with her phone in hand, and Muriel on the line. The woman insisted Punc bring Savannah to the yacht club when he was ready to pop the question.
At the guard gate, he spoke in a low voice before driving into the neighborhood.
“I can direct you to Muriel’s,” she said.
“We’re not going to her place.”
Savannah shifted in her seat. “Then why would the guard let you in?”
“She let him know I was coming.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw her shake her head. “That makes even less sense.”
He parked the Buick and leaned toward Savannah. “Just go with it, babe.”
Once she angled out of the SUV, he closed her door and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm.
They went inside the yacht club restaurant and a host led them to the patio overlooking the St. Johns River.
Punc pulled Savannah’s chair out and grinned at her puzzled expression. “You weren’t kidding earlier.”
After Punc settled in his seat, the host handed them menus and left. A server quickly filled their water goblets, and a waiter brought a bottle of red wine.
The moment they had a second of privacy, Savannah leaned forward. “Whatis all of this?”
“It’s a celebration.”
“Of what?”
“Of life. Of being together.”
She stared at him. “It’s very fancy.”
He nodded once. “It is, and you deserve something like this.”
She aimed a skeptical look at him. “Thanks, honey. But next time you can save your—”
He put his hand over hers on the table. “You’re worth it, Savannah.”
His nerves were getting to him. He’d planned to wait until after they ate, but he wouldn’t make it that long.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll enjoy the surprise,” she said, picking up her wine glass.
