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I ruffle his hair too, managing a small grin despite everything. “Yeah, go grab something from the pantry.”

Theo pumps his fist in victory and takes off stomping again, arms swinging. Blaire watches him for a second before she looks back at me. I lean in and press a kiss to her forehead, breathing in the faint scent of her shampoo. “I’ll handle it. Don’t worry. Go finish getting ready.”

She nods, looking more shaken than she is letting on right now, before taking her phone back and heading down the hall.

We’re supposed to leave for a hike with her family in twenty minutes—a big group outing framed as taking new family photos for her parents. What she doesn’t know is that the entire thing is a carefully staged ruse. Her siblings have been in on it for weeks, helping me scout the trail, pick the overlook at the top, and time the “photo session” so the light will be perfect. The whole hike is just an excuse to get her dressed up and out there in the right spot.

Theo tugs on my shirt, a messily opened family sized bag of Doritos in his hand, orange dust already coating his fingers and around his mouth. “We goin’ soon?”

I crouch back down to his level, taking the bag from his hands “You can’t get messy little dude. We got fancy pictures to take. Go get a wet wipe from your bathroom.”

“I’m hungry.” He whines.

“We’re going to eat a picnic at the top of the mountain. Aunt Brittney is bringing sandwiches I think.”

“Twins are coming?” He perks up at the mention of his cousins.

I nod. “Yep, and Chance’s boys. Now go get a wipe so I can clean you off.”

“Okay!” He shouts in excitement, already running off in the direction of his room.

I hear Blaire shout at him to stop running in the house and chuckle to myself.

My fingers drift to my pocket, brushing the small velvet box tucked inside. The ring feels like it’s suddenly gained a hundred pounds. I’ve faced down worse than this without as much anxiety—IEDs, firefights, torture training —but asking the woman I love to marry me still has my pulse kicking harder than I’d like to admit.

And now Veronica has managed to wedge herself into even this. The timing is too perfect to be coincidence. That crazy bitch must have some kind of magic power to sense the most inconvenient moment to insert herself into my life. I shake the thought off, forcing my focus back to Theo as he stomps around the room in his new boots, and Blaire comes back in, a black cardigan in her hands.

***

I’m going to throw up.

My heart has been beating like I’ve consumed six energy drinks since before we left the house (the two energy I did have probably aren’t helping), and I’ve checked that the ring is still in my pocket so many times that Blaire is eventually going to question if I’ve developed some kind of tic.

Then I pull into the trailhead parking lot and see Blaire’s entire fucking family already here. Every single person in this parking lot besides Blaire knows I’m about to propose, and apparently not one member of her family knows how to be discrete about a secret.

Chance is standing beside his truck talking to Carter when we pull in. The second he sees my truck, he stops talking mid-fucking-sentence and just stares at my truck.

Carter follows his gaze.

Within three seconds, every person in the parking lot is staring at my truck like I’ve just pulled in with a giant bomb strapped on top of it.

“Oh, everybody's here already,” Blaire says beside me, completely oblivious to the silent panic spreading through me right now.

“Yep, looks like it.” I manage a half-smile that probably looks exactly like I’m trying not to throw up.

“I'm impressed. Usually we're waiting on Carter.” Thankfully she’s looking out the window instead of at me.

I pull into the empty spot beside Chance's truck and put mine in park.

My heart is beating so fucking hard I can feel it in my throat.

I've checked that ring is in my pocket approximately eleven times since we left the house.

Twelve can't hurt.

I press my palm against my thigh, feeling around until I find the ring. I took it out of the box so that the shape of it in my pocket wouldn’t give me away. But it has had the unfortunate side effect of making me panic every 30 seconds that the ring has somehow gone missing from my pocket.

“What are you doing?”