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Graham popped the cap off a beer as Reagan took the wine bottle and poured two healthy glasses. She handed one to Claire. “Okay. I’m armed and read to listen. What happened at work?”
Claire took a deep breath and a long sip of wine before she spoke. “I witnessed a marriage proposal.”
Graham sucked in a breath. “Shit, are you okay?”
She glared at him. “Shut up.”
“I’m serious.” He looked it, too. “That’s traumatic.”
Reagan leaned down to set the wine bottle on the porch, keeping her glass in her hand. “A proposal in the emergency room? Was it an employee or something?”
“No. Two patients. They’d just come in from an accident and were pretty beat-up. She was about to go to surgery and he did this like...incredible, spur-of-the-moment, emotional proposal. Like he thought she might not come out of it and he didn’t want to waste another second without telling her how he felt.”
Reagan’s eyes went wide. “If this story ends with you telling me she died, I swear—”
“She’s fine.”
Reagan exhaled, a palm to her heart. “Good. Then what happened?”
“That’s it.”
Graham took a deep pull from his beer, apparently too shaken over the prospect of anything related to marriage or engagements to comment.
Reagan regarded Claire over her glass and twisted her lips to the side. “I mean, I’m always down for wine on the porch and it’s perfect weather tonight. But that really warranted all this?”
Claire sighed. “You don’t get it. You’re still young.”
“I’m twenty-five,” she defended.
Claire (thirty-one) glared, and Graham (thirty-six) made a choking noise.
“You’re a baby,” Claire said. “I’m thirty-one, single, and without prospects. Everywhere I turn, people are getting engaged or married. It just... I don’t know. Reminded me I’m not even close to that.”
“Good thing we have a pact,” Graham said.
“What?” Claire said, at the same time Reagan asked, “Pact?”
He blinked, as if unsure whether Claire was joking. “The whole ‘backup’ thing. Remember? We marry each other if we’re still single at forty?”
Claire laughed. “We’re not really doing that.”
He straightened. “What?”
She squinted at him. “Are you being serious? I’m not actually marrying you.”
“I’m completely serious,” he said. “I’ve been banking on our deal. Made plans and everything.”
“What plans?”
“I’m planning to avoid serious relationships until I’m forty and we get married.”
A mocking laugh bubbled up. “You’ve been avoiding serious relationships your entire life.”
“How is that relevant?”
Reagan waved her arm in the air. “Will someone tell me what’s going on here?”
Claire dragged her eyes from Graham’s face—which harbored a mixture of surprise and his signature playfulness—and cast Reagan an impatient glance. “Last year we were out with friends and I proposed we act as each other’s backups and all marry each other if we were still single at forty. I got stuck with Graham.”
