“Yeah,” Ridge says, clearing his throat. “Just a little tired.”
And I see we’re still keeping this operation covert. Before either of them can give him any shit, I shift the conversation away.
“Let’s get some beers and check on the meat,” I say, clapping Ridge’s shoulder, who looks relieved.
Next to the smoker, we sip from the longnecks while I flip the birds and baste them. I remove the tinfoil so they can spend a few minutes charring on top and close the lid.
“So, how do you want to do this?” I ask, keeping an eye on the door in case anyone walks out.
“I’m thinking after dinner, we can throw some wood into the fire pit, and when we’re all gathered around, I’ll do it.”
“Sounds great, man. You got this.” But truth be told, he doesn’t seem to have it. Ridge may be our boss, and he may run operations smoothly, but he can be a very nervous creature where Darcy is concerned. It’s cute, though. In like, a dopey way.
“Is the chicken done?”
I hear Lyric before I see her. She appears through the doorway as I look up.
She sets a platter down on the table just outside. It’s full of buns, coleslaw, and potato salad. Today, she’s wearing this little black romper. Her legs and feet are bare, which I’ve come to realize is how she prefers to be. But to really make matters worse, she’s not wearing a bra, and I’ve gotten a peek at her side boob a couple of times without anyone noticing. And what an exquisite sight.
“Yeah, I’m pulling it off now.” I slide off the hot pan full of chicken and take it to the table, where everyone is starting to gather as they file out of the house.
We make our plates, assembling chicken sandwiches and scooping sides. Everyone sits either on the patio furniture or in the larger chairs at the edge of the grass that I use for the fire pit. I’m honestly just grateful to have enough chairs at all.
There are several minutes of silence as we all begin eating. The scraping of forks, shuffling of napkins, and clinking of beer bottles are all that’s heard as Tater makes his rounds. He goes from person to person, sniffing all around their feet for dropped scraps. When he finds none, he whines and lies at myfeet.
Megan is the first to praise the food. Others follow. I’m not one to disagree. Lyric seems quite happy with how everything tastes. Which is kind of nice. She’s been cooking so much, and it occurs to me that this is the first time I’ve returned the favor. Warming up what she previously made doesn’t count. I suppose I did make her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich the other day. Though, I’m not sure that counts either.
We all get into a rhythm and an ever-evolving conversation. You know, the kind that just flows from one topic to the next in the most natural way. I always sort of thought that spoke to a group’s connection. I know it started with talk of the new book cover Banks is on. Then we got on the topic of Tater and how he came to be mine, and now, as everyone begins moving their chairs closer to the fire pit in the middle of the yard, we’re talking about Killian.
“So how often do you play?” Lyric asks him.
“We really don’t have to talk about this,” he says.
Killian has never been one for attention.
“Come on, tell us,” Ridge says.
Killian sighs. By comparison, it was subtle. But for him, that was pretty damn expressive.
“Against other people, a couple of times a week, usually. But I have a board at home I practice on,” he says.
“Will you teach me?” Darcy asks. “I’ve always wanted to learn.”
Killian almost cracks a smile. There’s a nearly imperceptible twitch that I’m sure no one else noticed. But again, for him,that might as well be shouting. He’s a very quiet guy, doesn’t make a fuss over anything. The most calm dude. So he must really like chess. Which is great—for him. I would be bored to tears.
He agrees to teach her, and when Lou announces she’d also like to learn, he suggests he come over and teach both of them over the next few Sundays. It’s kind of cute, the whole interaction. Even if it is chess.
As the chatter calms and the quiet sets in, Ridge clears his throat, getting everyone’s attention. He slowly rises, holding his beer into the air.
“I think I’d like to propose a toast,” he says, looking around as we all hold our drinks up. “But actually, I think I’d just like to propose.” And with that, he sets hit drink down and gets on one knee in front of Darcy’s chair.
“Wait, what’s happening?” Darcy asks. She’s the picture of shock. There’s a pinkish hue filling her cheeks and chest pretty much immediately.
Ridge reaches into his pocket and pulls out a rather sizable ring. It’s gold with three pristine diamonds on the band. There’s a bigger stone in the center and two smaller stones on either side.
Darcy gasps, her hand falling onto her chest. Her eyes are wet as she searches Ridge’s face.
“Darcy, from the moment you entered my life, it’s been immeasurably better in every way. You bring more joy to me than I could have ever hoped for. I’ve found myself more in love with you every day since. Your love and patience with Lou, yourdevotion to her happiness… I can’t imagine a better mother figure for her. I love you. Will you marry me? Will you become part of my family? And this one, too?” Ridge gestures to all of us around the fire pit.
