“Just one beer?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“As you insisted.” He winked. “How long do we have until you need them outside?”
“It’s an hour until the ceremony starts, so they need to be ready in half an hour.”
Griff ran his finger down her back, making her skin tingle. “That’s plenty of time,” he said, his eyebrow rising as he smouldered down at her.
“For what?”
“I think you know.”
She laughed. “Where are we going to go? My office is being used, and so’s your boat.” And they’d already christened them both in their delight at having everything repaired.
“That’s a good point.” He glanced at his watch. “Do we have time to make it home?”
“Not anymore.” She’d moved out of the beach house months ago, and was immediately replaced by a new tenant. She and Griff had stayed in his apartment for a while, until their new house a mile up the beach was ready for them to move into. It was beautiful, with wide glass doors that opened onto a terrace overlooking the ocean.
And it had a closet dedicated only to shoes. They might have christened that room, too.
“Griff, your beer’s getting warm,” somebody shouted from inside the boat.
“I guess I should go back in.” He brushed his lips against hers. “I’ll see you at the ceremony. And all night. I plan on dancing with you a lot.”
“I’ll see you then,” she said, smiling softly. And when the moment was right, she’d tell him the secret she’d been keeping all day. She was pretty sure it would make him happy.
* * *
They’d reached the part of a wedding reception where too many drinks had been swallowed down, a
nd too much dancing had been done, yet nobody wanted to go home and have the magic end. Griff had spent most of the evening with Autumn, spinning her around the dance floor, laughing as they watched Brooke’s great Aunt Shula flirt with all the eligible bachelors, then kissing her until they were both breathless.
Griff leaned on the bar and ordered two glasses of champagne. He wanted to drink to their future, to their businesses, but most of all, he wanted to drink to the realization that he couldn’t live life without her. He didn’t want to.
But he did want to ask her to be his wife.
He patted his pocket to check that the little box was still there. He’d chosen the ring the last time they’d visited New York. Autumn had been out for coffee with an old friend, and he’d taken Lydia to the jewelers for her opinion, and they’d chosen the beautiful square cut diamond that had been in his pocket or his sock drawer for the past month.
It was time to put it where it belonged. If she’d have him.
“You done it yet?” Lucas asked as Griff passed his table of friends. Lucas was the only one he’d confided in, apart from Lydia, who asked him the same question every week without fail.
It would be a relief to tell her yes, he had.
“Just on my way,” Griff murmured to Lucas.
“Good luck. She’s a lucky woman.”
“I’m the lucky one.” Of that he was sure.
He found her leaning on the painted blue railing, staring out at the dark blue ocean, her face illuminated by the string of lights swaying in the breeze above her.
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you,” he said, passing her a glass of champagne. Autumn stared down at it as though she couldn’t work out what it was. “It’s for a toast,” he told her.
“What toast?”
“That’s what I’m getting to,” he said. His stomach did a little flip. Were those nerves? He never got nerves.
Though he’d never asked the woman he loved to marry him before, either.