“Well. I guess they came for the wedding and got an extra show,” she muttered.
“Don’t mind us,” Denver hollered. “I’m just kissing my girl.”
The guests grinned. Across the yard, Misty spotted Cayla and Kennedy sharing a high five. Most of those who saw it probably thought they were congratulating themselves on the nigh flawless execution of a quick wedding. But as they both shot matching grins in her direction, she knew what it was really about. She was far too grateful to be annoyed.
Pivoting back into his arms, she arched both brows. “Your girl, huh?”
A flicker of doubt crossed his face. “Minus a week of me being pig-headed, I kinda thought we were headed in that direction.”
“We were,” she conceded. “But a girl likes to be asked.”
Denver’s smile spread like sun-warmed honey as he pulled her closer. “Misty Pennebaker, will you be my girlfriend?”
“I’d love to,” she said, and lifted her lips to his.