Yet another debacle.
Yet another upstaging by her mother.
Proposals were supposed to be sappy. Romantic. Endearing and loving, a time to open your chest and let the sun shine on your beating heart, so the person you loved knew it thumped for them.
His every breath should be about Rachel. Not Leo the Lemur. Not the “I Will Always Love You” song. Not about two hundred people watching.
And certainly not about Portia Starman.
This proposal was about a girl, a guy, a ring, and a promise.
A vow.
“Rachel,” he said, lips brushing against her earlobe as he spoke her name like he had a thousand times before, but this was the last time he’d say it as an unengaged man.
“I’m so sorry!”
“Shh. What Portia’s doing isn’t your fault.”
“That’s not what I meant! I am sorry I knew all about your proposal plans.”
How did you know?”
“It was Cally!”
“Calamine? My cat? Last I knew, cats didn’t spill secrets.”
“No, but they spill half-full glasses of water on your nightstand!”
“Huh?”
“Kell–”
Instead of fighting, he decided a kiss would make it all better as Portia sang her guts out, sounding better than he expected, although she wasn’t cutting an album anytime soon.
Not that he could throw stones from his vocal glass house.
Kissing Rachel made the cacophony all go still in his mind, every bit of him settling down. It was as if she were a tuning fork, striking the frequency that brought everything in line.
Soft and warm, her mouth was a haven, and as her fingers dug into his back, the slide of his polyester fur against her crisp cotton dress made him laugh into her mouth.
“What’s so funny?” she whispered.
“Leo the Lemur is getting some.”
“Is that what this mess is? Because it’s the worst lemur costume ever. And I should know. I wore Leo more often than you did when we were at EEC.”
“Best I could do on short notice.”
“You planned all this on short notice?”
“No. I planned everything long ago and then I thought of the costume at the last minute.”
“That explains why you look like a drunken grizzly panda.”
“But I look like a very hot, extremely arousing drunken grizzly panda.”
“You look like something Randy would try to mate.”
“My mom said the same thing!”
“Smart lady.”
“Rachel,” he said again, his heart warming as he wrapped his arms around her. The bulge of the velvet jeweler’s box pressed against her hip. Try as he might, nothing he did right now would rewind time and let him propose the way he’d planned. Portia was on the final lines of the song now, her fans cheering, Stan in the front row, grinning like a besotted fool as he watched his wife.
That was the look Kell wanted to have twenty, thirty, forty – more – years from now, even more in love with Rachel than he was now.
And he would.
“Yes?” A thousand worlds reflected back at him in her gaze, each of them a piece of himself that had splintered, pulled back together by her and the depth of his love for her. For the last two years, his life had grown in ways he didn’t know were possible. His friendship with Rachel was the cornerstone of his life and their romantic attraction was beyond explosive. All the puzzle pieces fit together as if they were made for each other.
Instead of beating himself up for all those years of thinking she’d been the one to hurt him, he’d made a conscious choice, with Rachel’s approval, to set the past aside and make a fresh start.
Rachel forgave him, and that made him love her even more.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
A loud tapping noise made them both look over to find little Harriet grabbing the microphone off the stand, alone on stage. Portia was on the gazebo steps, signing autographs, arms, books, napkins, old receipts–whatever people flung her way–and now Harriet was the star.
“Excuse me! EXCUSE ME!” she bellowed. The kid had some serious lungs.
All eyes were suddenly on her.
She flung her long, dark curls over one shoulder with a dramatic gesture and stared at the crowd with an accusatory glare. “My Uncle Kell is supposed to sing now.”
Kylie and Luke had gathered with Kell’s parents, and the look on his brother’s face was priceless. Harriet was a bit of a loose cannon and there was no anticipating what she would say next. Luke began walking up the steps, but Kylie shook her head and pulled him back.
Kell patted the ring in his pocket.
It was time.
Reaching for Rachel’s hand, he began to pull her behind one of the amps, but Harriet pointed and shouted, “THERE HE IS! Uncle Kell, do you have the ring?”
Luke’s groan could be heard across five counties.
“Honey, it’s supposed to be a surprise!” Luke stage whispered, and half the crowd folded in giggles. Deanna’s hand flew to her face in chagrin as Dean joined the rest of the town in laughing. An uncertain look came over Harriet’s face, that in-between expression kids get when they’re not sure whether they’re in on the joke or not.
Kylie sensed it and jogged up onstage, squeezing Harriet’s shoulder and whispering in her ear. His niece perked up, then gave Kylie a peace sign.
Hold on. No. She was holding up two fingers, clearly negotiating for more of something, given Kylie’s single raised finger.
Knowing Harriet, this was about Kylie’s famous edible-glitter fairy muffins.
Rachel looked up at him with so much happiness in her face that an astounding realization rang through him:
The way he proposed didn’t matter.
All this love was here, surrounding them, enveloping their very existence, day in and day out. Who they were as individuals would shape who they were as a couple, their long journey through the rest of their lives together more important than some “perfect” proposal.
On their very first date, he’d asked Rachel out as a kind of olive branch, a tentative exploration of their mutual feelings, but he hadn’t been able to get a restaurant reservation just a few days before Valentine’s Day. Instead, Lucinda Armistead had offered him the conference room at Love You Chocolates, with a gorgeous view of the town’s hot springs, a more romantic setting than any other.
Then, a power failure downtown meant helping rescue hundreds of flower arrangements at the town florists, a multi-hour, many-hands project that made Kell fall deeper in love with Rachel, who tirelessly pitched in, too.
Nothing went as planned that first date.
And nothing was going as planned right now.
His mother always said that plans are what people make so God can laugh at them, and she was so right.
The crowd began to cheer for them as he bent down to kiss her, and he smiled against her lips. His costume was hot and itchy but his mind and heart were perfectly comfortable and crystal clear.
Rachel was his.
Time to make it official.
Chapter Four
Rachel
If Kell wanted to make a spectacle of himself, he was succeeding.
Wildly.
And leave it to her mother to ruin Rachel’s time in the spotlight.