Tears pricked at my eyes, blurring the perfect sight of him kneeling in the sand against the backdrop of a sunset-painted sky. Overcome, I couldn’t speak. So I dropped to my knees in front of him, my hands framing his face, and pulled him into a kiss that was an answer to a question my heart had been asking for twelve years.
“Yes,” I breathed against his lips. “Of course, yes.”
He let out a shaky laugh and slid the ring onto my finger.
“It fits,” I said stupidly, laughing through my tears.
“I may have consulted with both Harper and Brenna,” he admitted, his thumb stroking my cheek. “Just in case.”
“You schemer.”
“I’m a planner,” he corrected, grinning as he stood and pulled me to my feet. “I learned from the best.”
He pulled me back against his chest, and we stood in the twilight with our arms wrapped around each other. Behind us, the conservation center glowed softly. Ahead, the ocean stretched toward the horizon. To the distant north were the roofs of Sunset Siesta. To the south, the masts of the working marina.
All of it here. All of it connected. All of it ours.
The last light of the sunset created a stunning panorama, framing us against the ocean, the center, the reef—the entire landscape of our story. We were just two people on a beach, but it was so much more than that. And the best part?
We were just getting started.
