Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
“I’d like to thank you all for joining Chess and me tonight.”
Slowly, I turn toward the sound of Finn’s voice, but I can’t see him anywhere. The band is smiling, one of them moving behind a xylophone, of all things.
Finn keeps talking. “It means a lot to us that you could be here. I was wondering if my pink bunny friend could help me out here.”
Everyone laughs and looks at Jake, who is grinning like a loon. “Sure thing, asshole!” he shouts back with good cheer. Jake holds a pink arm out to me. “Ms. Copperpot.”
Bemused, I take his arm, and he guides me farther onto the dance floor. People part for us. And then the band begins to play with the kitschy pluck of a ukulele.
The music barely registers before Finn steps out from behind the big live oak next to the dance floor, and he begins to sing. A laugh of pure joy bubbles up from me.
Most people go for the iconic Vegas Elvis with his white jumpsuit, but not Finn. He’s young Elvis, hair slicked back, neat wedge sideburns, his black leather jacket with the stiff, high collar framing his face. Finn’s blue gaze zeroes in on me as he croons “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” It is such cheesy goodness that I’m laughing, even as tears leak from my eyes.
Slowly, he walks my way, tossing the mic to Jake, who picks up where he left off.
Jake is surprisingly good.
Finn stops before me, close enough that my skirts surround his legs. A small smile plays on his lips. “Hey, Chester.”
I’m fairly certain I’m beaming. “I always knew you’d make a great young Elvis.”
His gaze stays on my face. “You’re more stunning than Grace Kelly.”
“Sweet talker.”
Finn holds out his hands. “Dance with me?”
My palms slide over his. “Always.”
The band plays on, our friends singing along with enthusiasm. But I only have eyes for Finn as he takes me in his arms, and we begin to sway. All is right with the world when I’m with him.
“I love you, Chess,” he whispers against my cheek.
I snuggle closer. “I love you, too.”
A hum of acknowledgment rumbles in his chest. “I was wondering . . .”
He lets my hand go. Slowly, we stop dancing, and I stare up at him with my heart in my throat. Finn’s smile wobbles, but his eyes are wide-open, looking at me with that same connection we had the first time we met. Only now it’s stronger, so much stronger.
I’m hooked by that blue gaze. I’ll never tire of it. I’m so drawn in at first, I don’t notice that he’s holding something.
But his gaze darts to his hand, and then I see it. Winking under the tree lights is a large emerald cut diamond ring.
I don’t cry. I grin so wide it hurts my cheeks.
“Whether you wear this or not,” Finn says in a thick voice, “I will hold your hand through life. I will love you forever. But it would be an honor to be your husband—”
“Put the ring on me, Finn,” I say in a shaking rush. “I can’t wait to be your wife.”
The ring slides on cool and solid. We’re still laughing and kissing when our friends finally swoop in to congratulate us. Only then do I notice James and Jamie are here, too.
Much later, when the excitement has died down, Finn and I sit on the porch swing just outside of our room. Finn holds my hand, his thumb fiddling with the diamond on my finger.
“Just think,” I tell him as we rock, “I’ll soon be Chester Mannus.”
He tries admirably not to snicker, but he doesn’t hide his smile. “I think it’s a lovely name.” His voice grows husky. “Really, the best name I’ve ever heard.”
With a sigh, I rest my head on his shoulder. “Me, too.”
Below us, people are still swaying on the dance floor. Sometimes, I think of that older couple we saw at the beach, dancing beneath the holiday lights, content to just be with each other. I see my future in them, but I don’t dwell there. Now is where I live. And that too is surprisingly easy to do.
* * * * *
Exclusive New Bonus Scene
Finn
“Tell me!”
“No.”
“Tell. Me.” This is followed by a grab at my shirt and a somewhat-violent attempt to shake the answer out of me. Cute.
I laugh and tuck Chess more firmly against my side as we walk along. “No. Now behave and have a little patience.”
Chess leans her head against my shoulder for a moment. “But I don’t want to have patience. I’m dying here.”
A family of four sweeps by us, their rolling suitcases trailing behind them. The dad’s case nearly knocks into my foot. It’s nice being utterly ignored. One of the reasons I like the airport.
“For someone who’s dying,” I say as we turn toward the airline check-in desk, “you’re acting pretty lively, Chester.”