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A few minutes later, we sat in the parking lot at Emile’s. “Now,” Sasha said as she looked over her shoulder at Quinn. “We’ll be back before nine o’clock. You’d better be here.”
Quinn let out a put-upon sigh. “Of course, I’ll be here. You know the people who own this place. I’m sure they’ll text you if I leave.”
We were dropping her off at a small holiday gathering organized by the town’s theater group. Quinn had gotten involved with her high school theater program in Boston and made a few friends through a regional traveling theater program. One of those friends happened to be from Haven’s Bay.
“I know,” Sasha said, her lips pressing in a line. “We’ll go have dinner and be back later. Have fun.”
Quinn leaned forward and kissed her mother on the cheek before climbing out of the car and jogging across the parking lot. She waved, and the sound of the holiday sleigh bells on the door jingled as she disappeared through it.
“Let’s go have dinner.” I backed up and rolled slowly out of the parking lot.
“Am I too overprotective?” Sasha asked as I drove the short distance to Bay Bistro.
I shrugged. “I don’t know that any parent can feel too overprotective. I think all you can do is try to find a balance. It’s the best you can hope for.”
A short while later, Sherry was beaming at us as she filled our wine glasses. “Should I leave the bottle?” she asked.
“Just a glass for me. I’m driving. Do you think you can finish that bottle yourself?” I teased with a glance at Sasha.
Sasha rolled her eyes. “No. Just one glass is good for me too.”
After we ordered our food, my heart was thudding rapidly, the sound of it echoing in my ears. I’d told myself to wait until dessert, but I was too restless to relax.
I made a quick decision, sliding my hand into my pocket. The small velvet box warmed as I held it loosely in my palm under the table.
“Sasha?”
Her lashes swung up, and she held my gaze. I usually managed to have some eloquence, but I couldn’t seem to do this any way other than bluntly. “Will you marry me?”
Sasha’s mouth fell open in a pretty O, and her eyes went wide. “What?”
This time, I remembered to bring the ring out from under the table and open the small box.
* * *
SASHA
I stared at the ring—a simple platinum band with a row of sapphires along one edge. That alone had tears stinging my eyes. Because he remembered that Quinn worried about conflict diamonds, and as a result, so did I. Because when you were a mom, it was an endless experience of vicarious worry.
I swallowed, trying to calm the emotion threatening to catch me in a riptide as it rushed through me. “What?” I repeated.
Noah’s eyes held mine, his gaze steady and sure. “Will you marry me?”
I pressed my palm to my chest, almost fearful my heart might beat its way out. “Are you serious?”
“I’m so serious I even asked Quinn about it,” he said somberly.
I gasped. “Oh, my God. Yes! Of course, yes!”
I wasn’t really paying attention to what I was doing and almost knocked my wine over when I moved from my chair and all but threw myself into his lap.
Noah, because he was that kind of guy, reached over to steady the wobbling wineglass with one hand as he wrapped his other arm around my waist and held me close.
“For a second there,” he murmured, his lips near my ear and sending a hot shiver through me, “I thought you might say no.”
I lifted my head, immediately ensnared in his ebullient gaze. “Not a chance.”
He slipped the ring on my finger. Just then, Sherry appeared by our table again, a smile on her face and her eyes absolutely beaming with joy. “Is this what I think it is?”
