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“Thank you.” His mouth twitches before his expression softens. “Goldie, will you marry me?”

“You know I will,” I say through my tears, reaching down to let him slide the ring onto my finger. It’s a little tight because I’ve got sausage fingers at the moment, but it’s close enough.

He stands, and I tip my head back to look at him. He raises his eyebrows. “I’m gonna need an official answer.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t hold back my grin. “Yes, Maverick. I’ll marry you.”

The entire restaurant explodes.

Colston runs over and flings himself at us, wrapping his arms around us both, kissing me on the cheek and then Sumner, who tries to throw him off.

Cherry lets out a loud “Woo!” into her microphone and does a little shimmy.

Scout is openly sobbing while her phone hand shakes, so the video’s gonna be a mess. Tatum and Ellie are screaming their heads off. Andie—stoic, badass Andie—is actually wiping under her eye with the back of her hand, smearing her eyeliner.

Trace joins in our little impromptu group hug, and then everyone’s piling on until Sumner and I are in the middle of our group of friends, surrounded by all the love in the world, with our baby pressed between us.

“Happy?” Sumner asks me, his lips almost brushing mine.

“I think it’s safe to say this is the best day of my life. So far.”

He laughs…

And then my future husband kisses me.

CHAPTER 41

GOLDIE

Thirty-Nine Weeks:

Baby is approximately the size of a watermelon.

Halloween in my neighborhood is less of a holiday and more of an excuse to be absolutely, unapologetically extra.

By the time it gets dark, every driveway has folding chairs dragged out into it, half the houses have fog machines running on full blast, and the sidewalks are so packed with kids that the adults have mostly given up pretending anyone is following normal pedestrian rules.

There are life-size skeletons crawling up roofs, giant inflatable monsters leaning out of hedges, fake graveyards covering front lawns, and enough orange string lights wrapped around the palm trees to probably be visible from space.

Our house, naturally, is no exception.

Sumner went a little overboard once he realized people around here take Halloween seriously. We’ve got pumpkins lining the steps, fake cobwebs stretched across the railing, and a motion-activated zombie down by the walkway that has already scared the shit out of at least half a dozen toddlers and one grown man.

I told him the zombie was too much. But of course he had Colston there egging him on.

I’m honestly lucky it isn’t worse.

I’m sitting in one of the cushioned porch chairs with a giant plastic bowl of candy in what’s left of my lap, dressed as a Magic 8 Ball. Look, there are only so many Halloween costumes that work when your stomach enters a room five minutes before the rest of you. The dress is skin-tight and black, with the classic white triangle printed right across my massive belly and SIGNS POINT TO YES in the middle.

It made Sumner laugh when I showed it to him, which was all the reason I needed to buy it.

He’s standing beside me in jeans and a black T-shirt because I told him he had to be Goose, but he flat-out refused to wear a flight suit when he already wears one to work every day. The compromise was a cheap HELLO, MY NAME IS GOOSE name tag slapped onto his chest and a pair of sexy aviators.

Colston, naturally, showed up dressed like Maverick.

Full green flight suit, aviators and all.

He eyes my fiancé, his mouth turning down into a frown I don’t think I’ve ever seen on his face before. “I should’ve made you wear the costume with feathers. It would’ve at least been something. This is a shitty excuse for a costume, dude.”