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WILLOW
It’s a testament to my willpower that I’m able to keep a straight face while eyeing the hardhat my boyfriend wears and the spade he holds in one hand. “Are you ready for this?”
“I’ve been ready for this for weeks.”
“You sure you know how to use that thing?” I tease, eyeing the spade.
“Ha, ha,” he groans, rolling his eyes. “I'll have you know I can handle basic tools. I just wish I understood why we have to go through with this clown show.”
“It's a ceremony, and it's just the way things are done. You break ground on a new project, you lift a spade full of dirt. Life is full of compromises.”
He can complain all he wants, but I'm not fooled. He is thrilled beyond belief to be breaking ground today on the new expansion. The weeks of planning and coordinating and soothing frazzled nerves have paid off.
At a signal from the photographer, I offer a gentle nudge toward the roped-off area designated for the ceremony. “You better get a move on if we're ever going to get this party started.” Because at the end of the day, that's what the dozens of people who gathered at the yacht club are here for. If they wanted to watch a spade of dirt being lifted, they could see that on the news tonight. And they will since the local news station showed up to do a story for tonight's broadcast.
In other words, everything's clicking. We're finally at the top of the mountain, and the view looks pretty damn marvelous from here.
“Wish me luck?” he asks with a twinkle in his eye.
I press a kiss against his cheek before nudging him again. “You don't need luck. You're a Cargill.”
“Funny. I was about to say you're my good luck charm.” As always, he needs to have the last word. The shit-eating grin he wears while approaching the designated area would have boiled my blood mere weeks ago. Now, I can only shake my head while my heart flutters. He's absolutely impossible, but I wouldn't have him any other way.
“Thank you all for coming out today.” He holds the microphone in one hand, the shovel in the other. Somehow, he even manages to make a hard hat and a suit look good together. “I would be disingenuous if I said this conclusion seemed inevitable. There were some dark, difficult moments along the way—most of which were of my own doing,” he adds with a self-deprecating chuckle while his father laughs knowingly from his position at Sawyer’s right side.
Then he looks my way, and even though we're outside I would swear somebody took all the air away. I can't breathe. Not when he looks at me the way he is now. There is so much behind his eyes, enough to make my knees weak and my pulse race. “I couldn't have done this without Willow by my side. She's the one who did the heavy lifting throughout all of this. None of it would have been possible without the woman I love working so tirelessly on this project.”
He loves me?
There he goes again, dropping something like that on me in public. He's never said that before.
And damn it, why is there still that nagging little doubt in the back of my head? His penchant for making big moments like this public triggers the pessimistic side of me, I guess.
There's a smile plastered on my face as I watch him sink the spade into the soft earth and lift a clump before tossing it aside. I'm still reeling by the time he hands off the spade and the hard hat, making a beeline for me while the crowd applauds.
He leans down, his lips brushing my ear. “I meant it,” he whispers, his breath tickling my skin. “I love you.”
Rather than put words to the feeling that's existed in my heart, I whisper back, “One of these days, we're going to have to talk about your penchant for making announcements like that in public.”
Before either of us can say a word, we're interrupted by his brother, Brooks. “Here, you two.” He hands us champagne flutes before nodding toward the club, where well-dressed guests are already beginning to wander inside for the party. “If anybody deserves to enjoy the night, it's the two of you.”
“You had better enjoy yourself, too,” Sawyer counters. “You're going to be a hell of a lot busier once the expansion is complete. We'll have more room than ever for all the events you love coordinating.”
“You know I look forward to the opportunity.” The two of them exchange a look that can only mean trouble. Something tells me he's more interested in the notion of being surrounded by bridesmaids than just about anything else.
We hang around until most of the guests are inside, with Sawyer greeting as many members as possible with me at his side. It’s another twenty minutes or so before we’re finally able to enter the banquet room, where soft music and candlelight weave an almost intoxicating tapestry. The gentle laughter, the sparkle of champagne flutes passing through on silver trays, all of it works together to create something as close to enchantment as I can imagine.
Or maybe that's just the thrill of knowing our hard work paid off. Maybe it's a little bit of both.
“You're born to this, you know,” I muse once we step onto the dance floor and he pulls me close.
“What? Dancing with you? Because I would agree with that.”
“I meant your job, but the dancing is a close second.” I rest my left hand on his muscular shoulder, while his left hand engulfs my right. “Because it's more than a job to you. It's your life, it's part of you. You're charming, gracious, easy on the eyes...”
“Just easy on the eyes? What about gorgeous? Sexy?”
“Careful, or you'll make me regret complimenting you.” All he does is laugh, and that sound is sweeter than any music. I’m pretty sure I love him, too. It has to be love, or else why does my heart soar when he smiles down at me?
