Swing and a Mishap (Summersweet Island 2)

“It’s too much, right? It’s probably too much….” he trails off nervously from right behind me.

The excitement I had over the small handful of long-stemmed purple roses I’m still holding down by my side suddenly seems incredibly lame right at this moment.

In the sand in the shape of a giant heart that’s easily the size of my cottage is vase, after vase, after vase overflowing with purple, long-stemmed roses. Several hundred beautiful crystal vases, and thousands upon thousands of stunning, fully bloomed, purple roses, at least a few dozen in each vase, stand tall in the sand in the moonlight. A small glass jar with a flickering candle just like the ones that led me around the side of Shepherd’s cottage are nestled in the sand next to each vase to complete the heart design.

And inside the giant rose and candle heart sits a large cabana draped in mosquito netting that’s been pulled back and tied to the posts to look like curtains, with a chandelier hanging down from the ceiling in the center. The soft glow of lights from the fixture shines down on a table set for two that looks like it was picked right up out of a five-star restaurant on the mainland and plopped down into the sand. The table is draped with a white tablecloth and topped with more purple roses, fine china, and crystal goblets, with the glow of a few more candles sparkling off the stemware. A trail of purple rose petals leads to the romantic setting in the sand, and just when I think it couldn’t possibly get any better, I hear the soft strains of violins begin to play. Glancing back to Shepherd’s deck and where the music is coming from, I see two men dressed in tuxedos standing just inside his deck railing, playing a slow, romantic melody with the violins they have held up to their shoulders and tucked under their chins, the music mixing with the sound of the crashing waves.

“I can’t believe you did this,” I tell him with a raspy voice filled with tears and emotion as I look back at the cabana. “I’ve never even seen purple roses before. The colors each stand for something. Did you know that? Like, red is for love, and yellow is for friendship. But I don’t know what purple is for. You probably just picked purple because it’s the Hawks’ color.”

I feel both of Shepherd’s arms encircle my waist as he steps up behind me, pulling me back into his chest as he rests his chin on top of my head.

“Huh, never heard about the color thing,” he muses. “You’ll have to look it up later.”

There’s something in his voice that tells me he knows exactly what the color purple means, but I let it go for now as he continues speaking, and I stare out at the breathtaking sight that he had set up just for me.

“You deserve to have everything you’ve ever dreamed, Wren. And according to Pinterest and all the yelling my sisters and my mom did at me, this is what every woman dreams of for a first date. I probably went a little overboard with the—”

I turn around quickly in his arms when his voice starts getting adorably fast and nervous again, his words immediately cutting off and a look of horror coming over his face when he looks at mine.

“No, no, no, no! I’m not supposed to make you cry again!” Shepherd says in a panic, both of his hands coming up to cup my cheeks, making me laugh through my tears.

I quickly push up on my toes and calm his panic by pressing my lips to his. I hold them there for a few seconds before pulling back to smile at him.

“These are happy tears,” I reassure him. “I just can’t believe you did all this for me.”

Shepherd lets out a sigh of relief, kissing my forehead before dropping his hands from my face and lacing his fingers through my hand that isn’t still holding on to the small bouquet of roses to continue walking through the sand.

“Oh, this is just the beginning.” He smiles down at me. “I wasn’t kidding about the hours I spent on Pinterest. Do you know how hard it is to book a last-minute plane to fly by with an LED night sign with a message on it?”

“You’re lying.” I shake my head with a laugh as we walk along the purple rose petal path in the sand to the cabana.

“You’re right,” Shepherd says with a serious nod, dropping my hand when we get under the cabana to pull out my chair for me. As soon as I’m seated, he quickly kisses the top of my head, chuckling as he walks around the table and takes his seat across from me. “It wasn’t hard at all to book one of those things.”