“Mom texted,” she said softly. “She’s decided she’s taking up paddleboarding this summer.”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “Of course she is.”
“She says remissionrequires hobbies.”
“And sweaters,” he added.
“Alwayssweaters.”
He leaned away from her slightly, and she met his gaze before noticing that familiar gleam of mischief he wore like the perfect cologne.
“You’re up to something,” she said, narrowing her gaze.
He just shrugged and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. When he drew out the small velvet box, it was very,verydeliberate.
Her breath caught, but she was smiling before he even opened it.
“You’re not even going to let me get down on one knee first?” he asked, amused.
“Nah,” she grinned, holding him close. “I already decided.”
She laughed, a little breathless, a little teary, but wholly unafraid.
He took the ring from the box and slid it into place on her finger like it’d been waiting.
She looked down at it for a beat, then back up at him, eyes shining with something steadier than adrenaline.
“Still want your star?” she asked softly.
“Every damn day,” he replied.
