Chapter 32
“There he is!” The voice of none other than Laine Williams echoes through the air. She wrestles with her hair as she crosses the yard, trying to contain it to one side against the December breeze. We’ve been blessed with a warm, but windy, New Year’s Eve this year.
Willow Pond Farm is the Williams family farm in the small town of Celestia, Texas, where Savannah grew up and where we have spent every New Year’s Eve since she arrived at EWE over ten years ago.
The farmhouse is surrounded by acres of untouched land, sitting at least a mile off the road, and it’s the kind of house you’d expect—white siding, black shutters, chimneys made of stone, a black front door, and rocking chairs lining the wraparound porch.
About fifty yards from the house sits the barn with a custom-built gym upstairs that we like to use on days when the weather doesn’t cooperate.
Another garage that houses farm equipment peeks around the corner, and the guest house sits in front of a pond in the distance with what I can only assume are willow trees planted at one end.
Savannah’s mother pulls me into a tight hug that reminds me of one my own mother would give. She pats my arm, then turns to the woman at my side. “You must be Sloane. I’m Laine. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding,” Sloane says, and extends her hand.
Laine waves her off, pulling her into an embrace.
My girlfriend looks at me over the older woman’s shoulder with wide eyes.
The Williams family doesn’t treat anyone like a stranger, but especially not the woman they know I’m about to propose to.
When I asked Savannah if she would mind me hijacking our annual New Year’s trip to propose to Sloane, she rolled her eyes and said it was about damn time.
I got a call from Laine later that night, asking what I needed from her to make it everything I wanted it to be.
“Well, come on in. I’m glad you finally made it, Brody was starting to get a little antsy. He’s been eyeing breakfast, but I told him we needed to wait for you.”
“You didn’t have to wait, Laine. We could’ve eaten when we got here,” I say, taking Sloane’s hand as we follow her to the house.
“Nonsense. Savannah went out to help Crew and her father this morning, and John went for a run. They got back a few minutes ago, so your timing was perfect.” Laine motions to the guest house. “You’ll be in the guest house with them. Brody and Rae opted for the bedroom in the main house.”
“Hey, look who finally decided to show up,” Brody says when we walk through the back door. He stands in the kitchen with a plate of food overflowing from the spread across the counter—pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, yogurt, and fruit.
This is how we start every morning on the farm. Laine wakes up and puts on a pot of coffee while she starts breakfast, before sharing a cup with Brooks after his run until the rest of us finally wander in. “Took you long enough.”
“We flew out of Logan instead of Albany,” I say.
“I told you to send the plane for him.” Brody looks pointedly at Brooks, who shrugs, taking a bite of bacon. “But no, you listened to him and let him fly commercial, when he could’ve been here before now, and the rest of us wouldn’t have been left to starve.”
“Oh, quit your griping,” Laine says, swatting him on the back. “When have you ever starved on my watch? Now, go sit and eat.”
Brody grumbles under his breath but does as he’s told, earning a giggle from his wife as he passes her.
Raelynn loads a plate with pancakes, dousing them in whipped cream and fruit, before taking the cup of coffee Savannah’s older brother, Nash, hands over.
She pauses briefly when their eyes meet, and they share a smile before she backs away to join her husband at the table.
What was that?
I’m not the only one who seems to notice the interaction as Savannah walks through the back door with her oldest brother, Crew, and their father in tow.
She gives Nash a questioning glance, but he doesn’t say anything, offering her a mug.
Savannah takes it, whispering something that I can’t make out, before he rolls his eyes and walks away.
I catch the look she shares with the Crew before her gaze meets my own.
She says something quietly to her brother as Brooks wraps his arms around her and pulls her away from the conversation.
“I’m going into town, I said I’d help out with the Taco Drop,” Nash says, approaching his mother. She gives him a look of disapproval, but he leans in to kiss her cheek and leaves.
“Why do I get the feeling we’re missing something?” Sloane whispers.
“I’m always the last to know things. You’ll get used to it.” I sigh, placing my hand on her lower back to urge her forward. “Go ahead and get some food, I’m going to run out and get our bags so we can relax after breakfast before Savannah drags us into town.”
“I can help after—”
“I forgot my phone, too, and I’m waiting on that call from Noah,” I say, kissing her forehead.
She’s nervous. She’s been nervous about this trip from the moment I invited her.
Truthfully, I think that’s part of the reason she was quick to jump on taking a story that would keep her from coming down for Bodhi and Cece’s wedding a few months ago.
But I know once she realizes there’s nothing to be worried about and lets her guard down, Sloane will fit right in with the Williams clan, as if she’s been part of the family for the last twenty-nine years.
Laine and Amara, Crew’s wife, have been impatiently waiting for the day I bring her to Willow Pond, excited to meet the woman I broke kayfabe for in the middle of the ring.
“C’mon, Sloane, you can sit by me. I know how intimidating this can be the first few times,” Amara says, drawing my girlfriend away from my side. She’s the perfect person to help her get acquainted with everyone.
The truth is, I didn’t forget my phone at all—it’s tucked away in my jacket pocket—but the bags were a good enough excuse to get away for a few minutes and find Savannah, who had conveniently snuck out the back door not too long after Nash, followed by Crew.
A gust of wind blows through the porch when I step outside, and I stuff my hands into the pockets of my jacket. There’s no sign of the Williams siblings, but Nash’s truck is still parked beside my rental car, which means they can’t be far. Still, I highly doubt they’d confront him out in the open.
“What is wrong with you?” I hear Savannah’s voice from the far side of Nash’s pickup. Or not. “Her husband is sitting across the room, and you’re—”
“It’s not like that, SJ,” Nash says. “Nothing is going on.”
“That’s kind of hard to believe considering what I just saw.”
“You are unbelievable.” Nash scoffs. “Maybe you should talk to your best friend. Find out what’s actually going on before you start judging a book by its cover, Savannah.” The truck door creaks, slamming shut, before the pickup roars to life and Nash speeds down the driveway.
I take a sip of the coffee I purchased right before we left the Taco Drop, letting the warmth infiltrate my body against the cool air that has yet to escape the car.
It’s well past midnight on the first day of the new year, and I’m exhausted after spending most of the day in the town square with the rest of Celestia.
Sloane sits in the passenger seat, watching the town pass by. I reach my hand across the console and take both of hers in mine, squeezing gently. She returns the gesture, and when I glance over this time, she’s staring back at me.
“Can I say something and you won’t think it’s weird?” Sloane asks, fully turning in her seat now.
Savannah and Brooks sit in the backseat, with two of Savannah’s childhood friends in the third row. I give her leg a gentle squeeze this time, but keep my eyes on the dark road ahead of us. “No, never mind. It’s silly, and I don’t want to—”
“Honey, it’s not silly. I want to hear it,” I say, glancing over at her again.
Sloane’s head falls back against the headrest with a soft groan, and she covers her face with her hands. “There was a moment back there when I thought you were going to propose.”
My chest tightens, and I catch Savannah’s stare in the rearview mirror when we pass under a streetlight, heading out of town toward the farm.
She whispers something to her husband, who chuckles, kissing her temple.
Proposing to Sloane beneath the Taco Drop was never part of the plan, though I had briefly considered it, but the woman in the backseat put a stop to that almost immediately.
“You, Bennett James, are not the corny, propose-on-New-Year’s-Eve-as-the-clock-strikes-twelve type, and neither is Sloane,” Savannah said from across the ring two months ago.
“He could be,” Brooks said with a shrug. “You don’t know what he’s into.”
“Well, at least it’s not Valentine’s Day.” The corner of her mouth tugged upward as her husband rolled his eyes.
That conversation led to many more as I tried to decide the best way to get down on one knee and ask Sloane to spend the rest of her life with me.
“See, I told you it was dumb,” Sloane’s voice breaks through my thoughts.
“It’s not dumb,” I say, capturing her hand and bringing it to my lips. “Did you want me to propose to you back there?” She doesn’t answer. “Sloane?”
She shrugs. “I wouldn’t have minded.”
Brooks chuckles again from the backseat, earning a slap from his wife. Whether or not that was in response to what Sloane said, I don’t know, but I can make an educated guess.
“It wouldn’t have been my first choice of location, but…I don’t know. You’ve been acting so weird the past few days, and just for a minute, I thought you might do it.”
“I concur,” Savannah’s friend Kingsley says from the third row.
“We were waiting all night!” adds Cassandra, the third to their trio, and I glare at both of them in the rearview mirror, earning a fit of giggles.
“Oh, leave him alone,” Brooks says, and I start to express my gratitude for him being on my side when he continues. “He’ll man up eventually.”
“You’re supposed to be on my side!”
“I am on your side, that’s why I told them to leave you alone. Hey, man, I get it. Popping the question isn’t easy. Stop putting extra pressure on yourself.”
“Says the man who drove his wife to the bar where they met and proposed in the exact spot he first saw her. Talk about upping the ante.”
Brooks looks down at his wife and smiles. “I’m a romantic, sue me.”