“I don’t know what the next race season looks like,” he said. “I don’t know how many permits we’ll have to file or which pipe in the house is going to burst first. But I know I want you there for all of it. Will you marry me?”
Her vision blurred. For a heartbeat, she couldn’t see the ring at all, just color and light and the memory of Bryn saying “You deserve a big love too,” on some long-ago night.
She’d thought that promise went into the ground with her sister.
Apparently, it had just taken the long way back.
“Yes,” she said, the word spilling out before her brain could wrap its arms around it. “Of course, yes.”
Relief crashed across his face, chased quickly by joy. He exhaled a laugh that sounded half disbelieving, half triumphant.
“Okay,” he said softly. “Okay.”
She held out her hand, fingers shaking. He slid the ring onto her finger, the metal cool against paint-stained skin.
It fit like it had been waiting there all along.
She pulled him up before he could say anything else and kissed him, hands fisted in his shirt. The coffee mugs wobbled on the crate, sloshing a little, but neither of them cared.
He kissed her back with everything he’d just tried to put into words and more besides; promises and apologies and wild, startling hope.
When they finally broke apart, breathing hard, he rested his forehead against hers.
“You sure?” he asked, voice rough.
She laughed through the tears. “Ask me again when I’m trying to match paint colors to your torque wrench collection,” she said. “But yeah. I’m sure.”
He kissed the corner of her mouth, her cheek, the spot just below her ear that made her knees go unreliable.
“Good,” he murmured. “Because I’m not returning that ring.”
She pulled back enough to look at him. “Where did you even get it?” she asked, swiping at her face with the back of her wrist.
He winced. “You’re going to laugh,” he said.
“Try me,” she said.
“Harbor Jewelers,” he said. “I went in for batteries for my watch and walked out having an intense discussion about settings with a woman named Mabel who’s apparently known Liz since kindergarten.”
Bree clapped a hand over her mouth. “You went ring shopping with Mabel,” she said, delighted horror and affection twined together.
“Look, she had opinions and pictures,” he said. “I panicked.”
“You did good,” she said, looking at the ring again. “It’s perfect.”
He relaxed, shoulders dropping. “Mabel will be relieved,” he said. “She threatened to hunt me down if you hated it.”
“I’m terrified of her, and I’ve never met her,” Bree said.
“You should be,” he said.
She laughed, the sound bubbling up, untangled from fear for the first time in what felt like forever.
Her phone chimed again. She sighed, reaching for it.
“Do not be Diaz with an emergency,” she muttered. “I am having a moment.”
It was Diaz.
