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“Thought you might like it.”
She shot me a rueful smile. “I really was tired. I could curl up right here and sleep the night away.”
“You might wake up with sand all over you,” I said with a laugh.
“Worth it.”
She moved her rainbow hair over to one shoulder and then lay fully back on the blanket. Her eyes were still wide open, staring up at the endless night sky. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. There was a whole wide world out there, but she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“You’re staring at me,” she pointed out.
I chuckled, ditching my finished beer and coming onto my side next to her. “Wondering how I got so lucky.”
“You fake proposed.”
“This doesn’t feel fake.”
“No,” she whispered, but she sat up, hugging her torso.
I sighed and sat up too. “What’s going on? You’ve been off for hours.”
“Nothing,” she said automatically.
“Is it about … Marissa?” I asked hesitantly. “Because I didn’t have feelings for her on the one date we went on and didn’t even notice her tonight until Court mentioned it.”
Whitley shot me a strange look. “Who is Marissa?”
I shrugged. “Some girl I went on one date with.”
“Why would I care about her?”
I laughed. “I really have no idea. That’s what I get for listening to Court Kensington. I told him you wouldn’t care. You’d probably be the one to point out who the hot people were in the room.”
“That does sound like me.”
“Well, good. I thought I was losing my mind when he mentioned it. I swore I knew you better than that.”
She tilted her head, as if contemplating exactly what to say to that. “You’re not looking at anyone else?”
“What?” I asked in disbelief. “Of course not. Are you?”
“No, but we really hadn’t said …”
“I told you I wanted to try this. I didn’t think I had to get more exclusive than a ring on your finger.”
She nodded, a pure Whit smile on her face. “Fair.”
“So, are you going to tell me what’s been up tonight?”
“I don’t know, Gavin. Something weird happened, but I shouldn’t have let it bother me that much.” She bit her lip and looked down.
I wanted to ask whatexactlyhad happened, but I wanted her to get it out in her own time. I squeezed her side and pressed a kiss to her temple. “What’s going on up there?”
She leaned her weight into me again, as if she were surrendering to this conversation. “I can’t stop thinking about my dad.”
She hadn’t said more than a word about her dad since that night she’d first found out about his diagnosis and cried in my arms. It was as if she had to compartmentalize what had happened so that she could survive. I didn’t blame her one bit, but I was happy to talk to her about it.
“I’ve been purposely not thinking about thewhyof our sudden marriage. It’s easier to check lists and make plans than to think about what comesafter.”
