His eyes dart down to my chest. I know it’s not to catch a glimpse of any cleavage since I don’t have any showing in my cream sweater, but more to gauge how I’m feeling. How my body is feeling after all the bruising left behind by the cables. The first couple of days were rough, but I turned a real corner with most of the soreness two nights ago.
Now I’m craving another kind of sore.
“Might’ve been,” he answers with a smirk when his eyes drift back to mine, shooting me a wink.
“Is anyone interested in dinner?” Gran calls, her voice a little higher than usual. A little shakier, too.
Glancing over Wyatt’s shoulder, she’s standing there with an arm wrapped around herself, the other at her chin. From this far away, I can’t see any tears running down her cheeks, but I’d almost guarantee they’re there. When I realize there’s a tissue in her hand, I’m certain.
“Oh, Gran,” I say, and Wyatt lets me by so I can fly back down the steps to reach her on the deck.
Throwing my arms around her, I hug her tight, and she sniffles into my hair as she returns my embrace fiercely. I can’t imagine what it’s like for her to see the fountain up and running, knowing the last time it looked this way was when Grandpa was alive.
“I love you,” I whisper.
Her returning whisper makes me smile. “I love you, Sweetheart.”
“Aw, my girls,” Wyatt says, coming up beside us, and it makes my heart melt.
His arms circle around both Gran and me, and I’m suddenly surrounded by both their scents. One familiar and timeless, having been there since I was a little girl. The other fresh and full of promise, the picture of my future as a woman the age of Gran. Both my present.
Gran and I let each other go with one arm so we can hold Wyatt back, bringing him into our circle, and it’s a long moment before any of us ease away. When we do, we’re all smiling.
“Thank you for fixing it,” Gran says to Wyatt.
He shrugs, like it doesn’t mean the world to her. To me. “You did hire me to be your handyman. It kind of comes with the job.”
The eyeroll is so loud I’m sure they heard it in downtown Santa Rosé. “A job you’re not getting out of now that the fountainis fixed and you’re dating my granddaughter.”
“On one condition,” Wyatt stipulates. “You don’t go around breaking everything.”
Gran’s eyes widen as if she’s been accused of something she isn’t guilty of. Letting Wyatt go, she places a hand over her heart. “I did no such thing.”
“I’m still wondering how the hell you broke the door so bad,” I mutter as we all disband. Grabbing the bag of döners, I gesture towards the patio furniture. “It’s not too chilly out. Why don’t we sit and eat out here?”
“I already brought some blankets out,” Wyatt says, walking around to grab them from the loveseat.
Gran claps her hands together. “Perfect. We can eat and I can ask you two all my burning questions. Like when I can expect a wedding.”
“Ruby,” Wyatt says, and it might be the first time I’ve really heard a warning in his tone.
“I’d marry him tomorrow, if he asked,” I tell them both, bent over the coffee table while digging in the bag of food, going for the whole nonchalant thing like Wyatt did moments ago.
It’s dead quiet, like I’ve just dropped a bomb on the backyard, and I slowly look up to find each of them staring at me, mouths gaping. I wasn’t aiming to make them statues, but now that they’re both speechless—a massive feat, considering they both have energy for days—I can’t hold back a giggle.
“Don’t look at me like that. I hate that I wasted all this timenot being together, why waste more time when I know what I want?” My eyes meet and lock with Wyatt’s, standing between the coffee table and loveseat. “You, for the record.”
Gran’s the first one to move, coming to my side to take my hand and give it a squeeze. “Quietly falling in love with him all these months isn’t a waste. Realizing youcanhave it all isn’t a waste. You’ll be stronger for it.”
My eyes slide to hers, and I squeeze her hand back. “Thank you for nudging me in the right direction all along.”
“Marry me,” Wyatt says, and my head snaps in his direction. He’s coming out from behind the coffee table, dropping down on one knee in front of me, Gran still at my side. “I don’t have a ring, but—”
“Yes, you do,” Gran says, releasing my hand to pull her ring off her finger.
“Gran!” I gasp, eyes widening as she hands it to Wyatt, my heart galloping in my chest. “What are you doing?”
“Whether you use it forever or you use it for now doesn’t matter,” she says, touching both Wyatt and me on the shoulder. “It brought luck to your grandfather and me, and it’s time to pass that luck on.”
