Lizzie merely rolled her eyes. The two of them had struck up an unlikely friendship since the New York visit. Lizzie called it“bonding over being the weird ones in a family,” and apparently, they hadn’t stopped texting or video chatting ever since.
Olivia and Eli moved on, finding Arch and Renée by the pool. Olivia almost didn’t recognize her brother. The man who used to check his phone during family dinners and schedule conference calls on Christmas morning was stretched out on a lounge chair in a linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up, barefoot, his wife tucked against his side.
“Is that my brother or did someone replace him with a functioning human being?” Olivia remarked.
“Renée banned me from checking email after six.” Arch didn’t open his eyes.
“It’s been three weeks.” Renée rested her hand on her own baby bump, then kissed his temple. “So far, he’s been sticking to it.” Her voice dropped, in case anyone was eavesdropping. “Like a good husband should.” They had gotten married in a super-secret, last-minute surprise wedding in the Bahamas a month ago with only family and a few close friends attending. It was a miracle the press hadn’t gotten wind of it yet.
Next, they walked toward the back fence, where Devon was deep in conversation with Hardy and Tommy Rourke, while Matty hovered at the edge of the group trying and failing to play it cool. Charley sat nearby, watching her mate with a pride that Olivia recognized because she’d started wearing the same expression herself.
“She looks good,” Olivia murmured to Eli as they passed. She had told him about how Charley was finally using her musical gift and composing new music. More important, the rift with her father that had been a cloud over the family had finally healed. Some families took longer to find their way back to each other. Olivia understood that better now than she ever had.
Stella and Cliff had claimed the far corner of the yard, half-hidden by the pergola. They sat on the bench, foreheads nearlytouching, talking in low voices. The way he held Stella was so careful, his thumb tracing circles on her shoulder. Whatever troubles Cliff had carried before Stella, he’d found a way through it. He was a man obviously enamored by his mate and now wife. They were also wed, just two weeks ago, along with Jacob and Sloane in a double wedding officiated by Stella’s adoptive father, Reverend William Lennon.
Out on the grass, Jacob was showing off. He had a small flame dancing between his fingers, shaping it into a wolf, then a bird, then a flower, while a group of kids watched with their mouths hanging open. Tabitha stood across from him, palms glowing white, tossing bursts of light into the air that popped and sparked above the children’s heads. They screamed and clapped and demanded more. Sloane leaned against the fence, arms crossed, watching her mate. Jacob had always been the joker of the family, the one no one took seriously. However, he’d certainly proved himself the last couple of months, and Olivia was absolutely delighted to see him come into his own, not just as a mate and dad-to-be, but also a leader. She already knew he would be successful in leading his own team at the Boston office.
She looked around at all of them, these couples who had found each other through circumstance and fate. She’d grown up hearing the stories of True Mates, watching her parents, her aunts and uncles. She knew what it looked like from the outside. But living it was different. Living it meant choosing each other over and over again, even in the toughest of times.
Eventually, they drifted toward Ransom and a few of the Boston clan members near the grill, the conversation shifting from barbecue chicken to something about a meeting with the High Council next week. Ransom was pulling out his phone to show Eli something when she put a hand on his arm.
“Alpha business can wait,” she admonished gently. “This is a party, remember?”
Eli looked at her, then at Ransom, then back at her. “You’re right. Sorry.”
“I’ll email it to you,” Ransom said, pocketing his phone.
Eli turned to face her fully, and something in his expression changed. She couldn’t place it at first; he looked almost nervous. Then his hand went to his front jacket pocket, where he usually kept the vials “just in case.”
She frowned. Had he sensed danger lurking about? “What is it?”
Then, to her utter surprise, he dropped to one knee.
A hush fell over the entire party, and even the music and background sounds melted away. Heads turned, Tabitha grabbed Sloane’s arm, and Martha’s hand flew to her mouth.
“Eli, what are you?—”
“My grandfather gave this ring to my grandmother when they got engaged.” His voice was steady, though the hand holding the ring shook. “Margaux said my mother would have wanted me to have it.”
The ring was simple and old, a thin gold band with a single green stone, deep and vivid. The same shade as his eyes.
“I spent most of my life believing I didn’t deserve good things,” he said. “Every day, you prove me wrong.” He held the ring up between them. “Olivia Jones, will you marry me?”
For a few seconds, she couldn’t speak. Her hand went to her mouth, then both hands went to her face, and then she was doing that thing where she laughed and cried simultaneously. “Yes,” she managed. “Obviously, yes.”
He slid the ring onto her finger and the yard erupted. Matty let out a whoop, while Tabitha was already sobbing. Patrick raised his whiskey glass and declared, “About Goddamned time.”
Eli stood and she threw her arms around him, as much as the bump allowed, and he held her while their people cheered.
“So,” Tabitha called out through her tears, “when’s the wedding?”
Olivia pulled back and looked at Eli. Between the move, the baby coming in a few months, and all the secret nuptials she’d attended, not to mention, the two weddings she was going to attend—Lizzie and Wyatt’s grand wedding at The Plaza after their baby was born and Charley and Devon’s in Hawaii next year—she would have enough weddings to last for the foreseeable future.
“Honestly? Not anytime soon,” she said. “I can’t even think about planning one right now.”
“Too bad my dad isn’t here,” Stella said. “He’d marry you on the spot.”
Bo cleared his throat from his seat near the grill. “In case you didn’t know, I’m ordained.”
