I'm out of the truck and around to her side before she reaches the door.
"You look beautiful," I say with awe in my voice.
"Thank you." She tilts her head, studying me with those eyes that see too much. "Where are we going?"
"It's a surprise."
My hand finds the small of her back as I help her into the truck. When she slides past me, vanilla shampoo and something uniquely her hits me hard enough to make my knees lock. I grip the door frame for a beat before I trust myself to walk around to my side.
I climb in and start the engine, pulling onto the road that leads toward the mountains. Toward Eagle's Crest Trail. Toward the overlook where I first knew I was going to marry this woman.
Seven days ago. That's all it's been. One week since I went to get coffee at a bookstore café during a storm, and she made me believe in something other than guilt and ghosts.
One week and I'm asking her to marry me. My hands tighten on the wheel. I know it's reckless, but my chest just feels warm. Certain. Like I've been waiting for her my whole life without knowing it.
"Brooks." Her voice is careful. "You're really nervous. Should I be worried?"
"No. Yeah. Maybe." I glance at her, then back to the road. "I just want this to be perfect."
"Want what to be perfect?"
"You'll see."
She settles back in her seat, watching the mountains grow closer through the windshield. The road winds up into the foothills, pines crowding close on either side. The sun hangs low on the horizon, painting everything gold and purple.
She recognizes the road when I take the fork toward Eagle's Crest Trail.
"We're going to the overlook?" Curiosity colors her voice.
"Yeah."
"Why?" She shifts toward me, and I feel the weight of her attention. "Brooks, you're scaring me a little."
"Good scared or bad scared?"
"I don't know yet." But she's smiling, and that smile steadies something in my chest.
I swallow hard. "Because it's where I was when I first knew."
"Knew what?"
"That I was going to marry you."
Her breath catches, sharp and audible in the quiet cab. Her fingers twist in her lap. I don't elaborate. Let her wonder. Let the anticipation build while I try to remember a single word of the speech I've practiced a hundred times.
My mind is blank except for the pounding of my heart and the weight of the ring box against my ribs.
The trailhead parking lot is empty when we pull in. Good. I want this moment to be ours, without tourists or hikers or anyone else witnessing me potentially fumble the most important question I'll ever ask.
I cut the engine and sit there for a second, hands still gripping the wheel. My palms are damp again. I wipe them on my jeans one more time.
"Brooks." Her warm, steady hand covers mine. "Whatever this is, it's going to be perfect. Because it's us."
I turn to look at her, and the certainty in her face steadies the panic inside me. She's right. This is us. No performance. No pretending. Just two people who found each other in a storm and decided to stay.
I nod and climb out, circling to open her door. My hand lingers on her waist as I help her down, and I feel her pulse fluttering under my palm.
"Can you hike in that dress?" I ask.
