Page 135 of Big D!ck Energy

Brooke: Reception barn, supervising chair setup. Stay away from the west path. Your mom keeps trying to sneak out to get a peek at everything.

I bit back a laugh. That sounded exactly like my mother.

“Come on.” I pocketed my phone and climbed out of the truck. “Let's go check in. I requested a specific cabin.”

“Of course you did.” But she was smiling as she reached for her door handle.

The check-in process was smooth. I'd coordinated everything in advance with the venue manager, Patricia, who had been a saint throughout the three-month planning process. She greeted us, handed over our keys, and gave us a map of the property that conveniently had several areas marked in red as closed for maintenance.

The areas where I knew chairs were being arranged, flowers were being positioned, and a stunning arch was being constructed beneath an old oak tree.

“The wine tasting starts at four,” Patricia said with a knowing smile in my direction. “And your dinner reservation is at seven. In the meantime, feel free to explore the grounds. Though I'd recommend sticking to the east side of the property. We're doing some landscaping work on the west end.”

“Noted.” I grabbed our bags and steered Davina toward our cabin. “East side only. Got it.”

Our cabin was everything the website had promised. A cozy living room with exposed beams and a stone fireplace. A bedroom with a king-sized bed draped in white linens. A private porch overlooking the vineyards with two Adirondack chairs positioned perfectly for sunset viewing.

Davina spun in a slow circle, taking it all in. “Dallas. This is... this is incredible.”

“Only the best for my wife on our anniversary.”

She turned to face me, and the look in her eyes made my chest ache. “You really put thought into this.”

You have no idea, I thought.

“I wanted it to be special.”

“It is.” She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around me, pressing her face against my chest. “It already is.”

I held her, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo, counting down the hours until I could give her the rest of the surprise. Tomorrow morning, I would slip out before she woke. Brooke would be waiting in the living room with the dress, Davina's dream dress, the one she'd sketched in college, brought to life by a designer who had nearly cried when Marcus showed her the original drawing.

And then I would be standing under that oak tree, waiting to watch her walk toward me.

“Hey.” Davina pulled back, studying my face. “Where'd you go?”

“Nowhere.” I kissed her forehead. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

“Sap.”

“Your sap.”

We spent the next hour exploring the east side of the property. Davina exclaimed over the view from every angle, took approximately forty-seven photos on her phone, and kept squeezing my hand like she couldn't quite believe this was real.

My phone buzzed every few minutes with updates from Brooke, who was running the operation with military precision.

Brooke: Davina's parents are in Cabin 12.

Brooke: Caterer confirmed. The menu is set. The beef tenderloin is apparently transcendent.

Brooke: Delilah just arrived. She squealed so loud I think dogs in the next county heard her.

Brooke: Where are you now??

Dallas: Heading to a wine tasting. East pavilion.

Brooke: Perfect. I'm on the west side.

“Who are you texting?” Davina asked as we approached the tasting room.