Brooke’s contented smile turns mischievous. “I think Todd secretly wants us to win. What’s in the box, Todd?” She slips from my hands and scoots closer to Todd, who would have to back off the roof completely to escape her. “Are we gonna like it? Do you think it's a cool ten thousand? Would you take the box?”
Todd is the King’s Guard, and he will not budge.
The timer blares and everyone grows silent. Sumer makes her way around the circle, asking each couple the same question, “Will you accept my offer?”
Tink Eight, a young Southern couple with three kids, and Tink Nine, retired empty nesters, take the deal and celebrate by touching the grass with their bare feet for the first time in fifteen days.
The rest of us are left to open our boxes, which hold one thing: an orchid.
Sumer smiles into the primary camera as we all watch on the main screen. “You each have been given a healthy orchid, ready to bloom. If you can keep your orchid alive until the finale, you’ll leave with ten thousand dollars, and for every new flower on the plant, you will receive an additional ten thousand. Good luck.”
Brooke hugs our orchid—lucky flower—as if hugging it will provide it all the nutrients it needs to thrive. And her hugsareawesome. I bet it works.
“I think I’ll go find a home for this guy,” she says, holding it close as she makes her way to the ladder.
“Okay. Be down after PT.” I wink, then turn to Todd, because I do have physical therapy soon, which Todd always gets some shots of, but I also have a date to plan for tonight, and I’m going to need some help.
“Are you ready?” I ask from where I wait for Brooke at the top of the ladder. It took me the afternoon and a little help from Todd and my neighbors to set up our date for tonight, but I think she’s going to like it.
“Almost,” she calls back. I can’t imagine how she could possibly be preparing for this date, given the lack of personal items or space she has to do so, but I’m about to have my first official date with the only woman I ever want to date again, so I’m not about to rush her.
When she appears at the bottom of the ladder, I send a silent prayer of thanks that I decided to plan our evening outside and not in the privacy of our home. I like to think of myself as a strong-willed man, but I’m not that strong.
My wife is breathtaking.
She’s wearing a black tank top with tiny straps, revealing almost every inch of her shoulders, only partially covered by the wavy, raven-colored hair cascading over them and down her back. Her loose-fitting, floral printed skirt falls to her bare feet but accentuates her curves in a way that has my hands flexing, desperate to trace.
It’s a pairing I’ve seen many times over, but it feels like tonight I’m seeing her in it for the first time. Every perfect curve.Every bare length of skin. Every detail she chose for this night will be forever etched in my memory.
I reach out my hand and lead her up the ladder, pulling her into my arms as soon as she reaches the top. “I think I’ll die if I don’t kiss you,” I mumble into her hair. “Like, right here. On the spot. My heart will stop.”
She laughs, tilting her chin down and into my chest. “So dramatic.”
“It’s true.” I kiss the crown of her head and wait—So. Very. Patiently—to see if, and how, she’ll respond.
Slowly, Brooke’s eyes drift up, her lips so close I feel her breath against mine. She presses her hand against my chest, right where my heart is beating double-time for her. “It feels solid to me.”
“Brooke… Love,” I smirk, using the moniker I’ve taken to when I’m desperate to tell her how deep in this I am with her but know she isn’t ready to hear it just yet. “You aren’t a medical professional. I don’t think we should take the chance.”
“Definitely shouldn’t risk it.” She nods once and begins to say, “I think you bette—”
But I don’t hear the rest. Taking her gesture as the only signal I need, and then her small hum of pleasure when our mouths meet as my reassuring confirmation to stop talking while I’m ahead.
When I step back, Brooke’s in a well-kissed haze. Inwardly, I beat my chest, because I did that! But she shakes herself from it pretty quickly as a throat clears nearby. Then, the previously silent group I conveniently forgot about, chuckles and mumbles amongst themselves.
“Here we were thinkin’ we’d be the entertainment,” Gloria drawls, slapping her husband on the arm to make sure he’s getting the whole show.
“Sorry, y’all.” I laugh, then kiss Brooke’s nose which she swats away when she realizes I knew about our audience all along. “I couldn’t help myself.”
Ocean starts strumming his guitar next door, the second plan for our night set into motion. I reach out my hand in offering to my wife as Sadie begins to sing the first lines to what I’m now considering our song.
“Will you dance with me, Brooke?”
When her hand slides into mine and the other reaches gently around my shoulder, so as not to put too much pressure on the injury, the whole circle of fellow contestants cheer. Brooke tilts her head back and laughs into the clear, May night sky.
She hums along with the cacophony of harmonizing couples as they sing “Can You Feel the Love Tonight,” and I sing it quietly in her ear. It’s cheesy and a little awkward given the fifteen people—Todd included—witnessing me romance my wife, but, somehow, it feels right for our first date.
“You know what this reminds me of?” Brooke asks, her temple resting against my cheek.
