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Maxon points at Sebastian. “See? I rest my case. You, my brother, just need to believe. You need to take that leap of faith.”

“What he said,” Griff puts in.

They make it sound so easy…

“What’s going on, guys?” Keeley steps into the room, wrapped in a silky, pale robe, belted around the swelling of her belly. “Did you decide you wanted a bachelor party after all, Evan? I have to say, six a.m. is a pretty interesting time…”

Nia will look that pregnant come summer. I did some calculating. Our baby will be born late in July. We have our first appointment with a new obstetrician while we’re on the island. We haven’t talked about the fact that we’re moving here, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s a done deal.

“We’re just convincing Evan that he’s head over heels for his bride-to-be,” Maxon quips.

Keeley frowns and blinks. “Of course. I mean, something has been troubling you both since you got here, and I guess neither of you were expecting to have a baby so soon. But I’ve known since you two came for Thanksgiving that you’re mad for each other.”

Head reeling, I set my coffee down and leave the men behind. Maxon’s wife knew, too? Before I even suspected?

I take Keeley aside. “How’s Nia?”

She stayed here the night before the wedding since everyone insists it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony. I think that’s a foolish, antiquated notion, but Nia agreed with the superstition, so I acquiesced. I haven’t seen her in almost twelve hours. She looked particularly pensive last night. I’ve been awake for hours, worrying she’ll wake up this morning and tell me she’s changed her mind.

“She seemed happy that everything is ready. Britta’s mom finished the food last night. The florist will be here at eleven to drop off all the bouquets and arrangements. Lono will be here a little after one, a good hour before he performs the ceremony. The photographer will show up about the same time. The seamstress finished the alterations for Nia’s dress and we picked it up. Thankfully, she found one off the rack that fit her almost perfectly. Otherwise⁠—”

“That’s not what I asked. How is she?”

Keeley takes a long time answering. “Nervous.”

“Hesitant.”

Maxon’s wife pauses even longer before she nods. “But she loves you.”

Right. The problem is, she thinks I don’t love her. I may not know what love is, but I know what it isn’t. I know that, since being with her, I’ve become full of nonsensical notions and something else I can’t explain: feelings. Even though they have no basis in logic, I can no longer deny them. They exist.

In the background, my brothers and Bas rib each other about something. I focus on my racing thoughts and pounding heart. “I need to see her.”

For a moment, Keeley looks as if she’s going to object, then she presses her lips together and gives me a decisive nod. “Follow me.”

As she leads me through the kitchen, pausing to accept a soft kiss from her husband, I follow.

“Evan?” Bas asks.

“Where you going?” Griff calls out.

Maxon follows up. “What are you doing?”

I raise my hand and wave them off. “I think…I’m leaping.”

Behind me, they celebrate and immediately start arguing about who was right first. I don’t care. I’m focused on Nia as I trail Keeley behind their bed and breakfast, toward the private ohana they’ve recently renovated into a suite.

We creep through the humid predawn and dewy grass until we reach the beachy blue door.

Keeley knocks. “Nia?”

A minute later, my bride opens with a sleepy yawn. Her face closes up the instant she sees me. “Evan?”

“I need to talk to you.”

Something I don’t like skitters across her face. “Come in.”

“You two going to be okay?” Keeley asks, seemingly reluctant to leave us.