I stare at him. “You planning on making her sob harder or run screaming?”
Hayes chokes on a laugh, and Beck looks way too proud of himself.
“Dress clean,” I say, done with the conversation. “That’s it.”
“Sure, Dad,” Beck mutters under his breath.
I ignore him and push back from the table, the legs scraping loud against the floor. My pulse is steady now, the plan lockedinto my bones. “Sunset. Dock. Lights. Flowers. Rings. We do this right.”
Beck leans back, grin lazy. “She’s gonna lose her mind.”
Hayes’s mouth curves in the smallest smile. “She’ll hate how much she loves it.”
“Good,” I say, heading for the door. “Then let’s make it happen.”
The dock doesn’t look like the same place by the time we’re done.
Two days of hauling planks, stringing lights, and Beck almost breaking his neck because he “doesn’t believe in ladders,” and here we are. Lanterns bob on the lake like fireflies, the glow threading across the water, soft and golden. Wildflowers spill from crates Beck swore were “tastefully chaotic.” And Hayes… hell, he organized all of this like he’s running a goddamn wedding already.
It smells of oak and Christmas and the faint copper slice of sunset. And I’ve never been more on edge in my life.
I pace the boards while Beck leans against a post as if he’s posing for some magazine cover, shirt half open and smug grin in place. Hayes sits on a barrel, calm as a monk, hands folded like he didn’t spend an hour cussing over tangled lights.
“Relax,” Beck drawls, swinging his foot. “She’s coming. Unless you scared her off with all this broody energy.”
I shoot him a look sharp enough to peel bark. He just smirks, the bastard.
Hayes glances at his watch for the tenth time. “The cab left town twenty minutes ago. Any second now.”
“Good.” My jaw works. “’Cause I’m not doing this twice.”
“Big talk for someone about to pass out,” Beck says. “Try not to choke when you open your mouth, Romeo.”
I shoot him a glare. “You wanna see choking? Keep talking.”
Beck just grins wider, teeth flashing. He knows I’m two seconds from decking him.
Then, headlights sweep the trees, tires crunch on gravel. My stomach knots tight. Real tight. Like before a fight, only this isn’t a fight. It’s worse. Because I can win a fight.
This? This is her heart.
And that’s a battle I can’t afford to lose.
Hayes stands, straightening his shirt. Beck stays loose, cocky as ever, hands in his pockets. I just stand there, fists flexing, every muscle taut like a trip wire.
Then, she steps out.
My Lo.
Loose dress brushing her feet in the cold winter air, oversized sweater swallowing her whole, hair catching the wind, eyes soft and curious in the dark. She looks at the glow on the water, then the dock, then us.
“What…” Her voice is a breath. “What is this?”
Hayes moves first, smooth as always. “Come see.”
She walks down. Beck offers a hand halfway; she takes it, smiling just a little. Clearly, she can’t believe this is real. And then she’s standing there. Flowers despite the cold, and lanterns despite the wind, and light flickering on the water behind her despite the looming winter all around us.
She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
