“Cooper,” she whispered, turning away from the microphone. “I figured you’d be packing for Ohio.”
He shook his head. “I tried,” he confessed. “Nearly signed the contract. They were good numbers, Scarlett. The salary, the prestige, the research budget.”
“Then go.” She stood up, trying to keep him off the stage. Surely trying to avoid the spectacle he was bent on making. “Go be the man you worked so hard to become.”
Her dark eyes gleamed with pain and tears. He had to fix this. “I am that man,” Cooper said, darting around her to the mic. “Hey, folks. If y’all don’t know me, I’m Cooper Moss.” The crowd stared and a few shouted hellos at him. “I’ll only hijack your entertainment for a minute or two.” He didn’t mind stating his case to the whole town.
He spotted her book club friends in a corner booth and waved. None of them waved back. Didn’t matter, he was here for one woman only. Standing at the mic so the whole pub could hear, he studied her. “Scarlett, I messed up. The math was all wrong. I convinced myself I was solving for us, but you were right. I was only solving for me.”
“Cooper, stop this.” Pain was etched on her face.
“I turned down the job.” He risked a glance at the crowd. “Y’all are stuck with me.” Then he smiled at Scarlett. “Especially you. I told the committee in Ohio I’d already taken a tenure-track position.”
Scarlett blinked, her confusion momentarily overriding her frustration. “What are you talking about?” She took a step toward him. “You said the California school was closed.”
“My tenure isn’t at a university, Scarlett,” Cooper said, his voice dropping to that intimate, resonant tone that always madeher catch her breath. “My tenure is here. This island. This town. With the woman who teaches kids how to play bluegrass and the daughter with a gift for sandcastle architecture.”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to her. “Read it. I signed a new contract for a job in Charleston. The private high school has been looking for a senior mathematics lead for two years. They offered me the position. It’s twenty minutes away by ferry. I’ll be home for dinner every night. I can be at every soccer practice and game. I can help you keep Cora from climbing the shelves.”
Scarlett laughed, but only for a moment. “You turned down a university offer for a high school?”
“No. I turned down a job in favor of a life,” Cooper corrected. “I realized that taking care of our family didn’t mean finding you a better seat at a different table. It meant making sure I was welcome to join yours. I don’t want to move you, Scarlett. I want to be moved by you. I want to meet you under those mismatched porch lights every single night for the rest of my life.”
The pub was silent. Even the tourists sensed the magnitude of the moment. Scarlett looked at the paper in his hand, then back up at his face. “Look at the signature.” He helped her flip to the back page.
“You’re staying?” she whispered.
“I’m staying,” he promised. “I love you. The math is so simple, Scarlett. I spent seven years missing out on the only thing that mattered. I’m not losing another second. Marry me, Scarlett. Please.”
Scarlett’s lower lip trembled. She set her guitar down on a nearby stand, her hands shaking. She took a step toward him, then another, until she was standing in his shadow, his tall body sheltering her a bit from the crowd watching them.
“You’re an idiot, Cooper Moss.” A single tear rolled down her cheek. “Brookwell will be talking about this for decades.”
“I sure hope so,” he said loudly enough to get the crowd cheering. “Say yes,” he urged, for her ears only. “Let’s write the rest of our story together.”
Scarlett tugged on his shirt, bringing him closer. “Yes,” she said against his mouth. He kissed her to raucous applause, then swept her up and carried her off the stage. He heard a woman shout, “About damn time!”
CHAPTER 11
Scarlett was filled with a sense of wonder and serenity as they returned home. All three of them for the first time. Her tires crunched on the oyster-shell driveway, frogs sang in the marsh, and the humid air had cooled enough to be pleasant, carrying the heavy scent of blooming jasmine and tangy salt.
Cora was sound asleep in the back, her head lolling against her booster seat, exhausted from another big night with Willow and Levi. Willow was thrilled—Charity had sent her a video of Cooper’s proposal at the pub. Tomorrow, they’d tell Cora she had a daddy and for the first time, Scarlett wasn’t afraid of the conversation or questions that would follow.
She watched him come around to the passenger side to open her door. His face, illuminated by the moonlight, was a study in handsome confidence.
“She’s out cold,” Cooper whispered, glancing into the back seat as he helped Scarlett out of the car.
“Willow and Levi know how to party,” Scarlett joked. “All that fresh air on the yacht.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” He brushed a kiss over her lips before moving to gather up Cora into his arms as if he’d beendoing it from day one. She snuggled into him, her head on his shoulder.
Linking his free hand with Scarlett’s, he paused at the base of the steps, his gaze on the porch.
“We can find a bigger place,” she offered, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Something more ours than mine.”
“But this place is perfect.” He lifted his chin toward her quirky lights. “This place has character and spirit. And love. Those lights are resilient, like the three of us. They have history.”
She chuckled. “True. And history is more than a collection of salvaged parts.”
