Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
KASEY
The breeze kicks up with a violent gust just as I shut the truck door, nearly taking my hat with it.
I press it further down along my brow and turn to find Ava—my north star—back turned to me, already making her way across the sand.
For a moment, I just watch her. Use the time to try to shove some air into my too-small lungs.
The small wooden box in my pocket has somehow found a way to lodge itself in my throat, and I feel a little delirious.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous about anything in my life, but I’ve also never felt so sure.
It’s a small ring—the smallest ring they had at the pawn shop—but it was all I could afford with my spring rodeo winnings and the money Brooks let me borrow last week when I told him I needed a new fuel system in my truck.
I’ll have to figure out a way to pay him back, but . . . that’s a problem for another day.
Still, small as it is, I looked at it and immediately knew it was the one. Kind of like the way I felt about Ava the first time I looked at her. That has to count for something, right?
Ava stands at the shoreline looking out into the water.
Her hair whips wildly at her back, dancing along the dark-tanned skin of her arms. We’ve been spending most Saturday afternoons so far this summer here at Scorpion Bay, where no one is around to bother us and we’re free to be ourselves. Where we can be us.
Ava’s never admitted it outright, but I notice the way her body loosens every time we leave Saddlebrook Falls.
I think she’s spent so much time performing for people that she’s lost a piece of herself along the way—and I don’t fault her for it.
I know how much it hurt her when her mom left, how she felt like she wasn’t good enough to make her stay.
How it changed her father, hardened him, made him look at her with an edge of regret.
She’s never admitted to any of that either.
But if there’s one foreign language I’ve learned to speak, as muddy as it can get sometimes, it’s Ava and all her insecurities.
So when she spins around to smile at me as I close the distance between us, when I see the way her hard edges have melted away, leaving the soft and vulnerable traces of the girl I’ve grown to love so deeply, I make a promise to myself that I’ll spend the rest of my life finding ways to give her more peace like that.
Her eyes drop to my feet as the saltwater air curls around us. “One of these days I’ll convince you to take your damn boots off at the beach,” she chides.
I grin, sure she’s probably right. She has a way of convincing me to do a lot of things. “Yeah, yeah.” A strand of hair catches on her lips, and I reach to tug it loose. “But today is not that day.”
She smiles, eyeing the small duffle I’m carrying. “What sorts of treasures did you bring me this time?” she asks.
My nerves spike as I turn to walk away from the water.
“Candy, mostly.” She laughs, trailing behind me as I aim for flatter ground.
I find a decent patch of clean-looking sand and drop the duffle, unzipping the top flap to pull out the flannel blanket we like to sit on.
It’s still sandy from last weekend, so when I flick my wrists to snap it open, it sends sand flying at Ava.
“Shit,” I mutter, dropping the blanket to move in front of her. “I’m so sorry.”
She wipes her face with her hands, laughing.
“Don’t worry,” she croons. “Payback’s a bitch.
” Before I know it, she’s shoving me to the ground, tackling me in the world’s most uncoordinated flop of a takedown that somehow ends with her pinned beneath me.
She huffs, cheeks pink, and thrusts her hips to knock me loose and flip us around, letting out a satisfied hum when she sits up to straddle me. But I think I’m the one who’s won.
A burst of hunger takes over as I sit up to cup the back of her neck, pulling her mouth to mine for a deep kiss.
She lets out a surprised grunt before wrapping her arms around my neck.
Her chest melts into mine as her lips part, letting my tongue in to stroke against hers.
I’m instantly hard and she knows it—her hips move in light, teasing circles, creating just enough friction to drive me insane.
“I love you,” I murmur against her mouth before diving in again. Her responding whine sends me to the moon, and I realize—this is it. Fuck the blanket, fuck the wine, I don’t need any of it. I just need her.
Slowly working the ring box out of my pocket while she’s distracted with kissing me, I flick it open with my thumb and bring it between us, pulling my mouth away from hers. She looks down at it, sapphire eyes flaring with shock, and every ounce of nerves I’ve felt all morning disappear.
“Marry me, Ava,” I say between uneven breaths. “I can’t imagine a more perfect life than one spent with you.”
“Kasey,” she breathes, and my name sounds so absolutely perfect from her lips. Her eyes well with emotion as she digs her fingers into the back of my neck.
“Be my wife, sugar.”
She smiles, and it rivals the sun’s warmth. “Yes,” she says, laughing. “Yes, Kasey!”
I pull the ring from its satin nest and she lets me slip it on her finger. And then she’s pushing me down into the sand, kissing me with so much urgency it feels like our last day on earth.
I won’t realize until far too late—that’s exactly what it is.
I should have known Ava would make friends with every fucking person in here.
Even Sunny and Boone, the bar’s two meanest dipshit regulars, are eating out of the palm of her pretty little hand.
She works the crowd like she was made for the attention, for the glory of having every set of eyes in the building on her.
And boy, are they on her.
It used to bother me, when we were younger.
She’d pull shit like this at parties full of people we didn’t know, and it would scare me.
I’d worry someone might want to take advantage of her, might want to take from her, and it fucking made me crazy.
But Ava required her own agency, and eventually I came to learn that she could fend for herself.
That she thrived in the performance and was much more comfortable with that version of herself, who had the power to pull you in and leave you wanting more.
I think, for her, it felt safer than being honest.
It took a while for me to understand the deep-rooted fears Ava carried that stemmed from issues with her parents—her mom’s abandonment and her dad’s detachment left her struggling with things like vulnerability and self-worth.
But once I understood those pieces of her, it made it easy to love them all.
Her eyes find mine across the room. I’ve been watching her flirt with two cowboys for about five minutes; they’re from a ranch about ten miles north of here and don’t come in often, but when they do they’re always respectful and keep to themselves while spending a decent amount of money on drinks.
Tonight they brought a couple of women with them, though at the moment, I don’t see them.
I throw her a Should I be worried? look. Humor dances in her eyes as she shoots me a wink back. She leans closer to the man on her left, murmuring something that has him slapping the table and shaking with laughter. And then she pats him on the shoulder and leaves them, heading right for me.
“Jealous?” she asks as she takes an empty seat at the bar. Her smile could power the lights in this place for weeks. Fucking brat.
Yes, I think. But I don’t give her the satisfaction. Instead, I pull a tall glass from the stack and fill it with ice water, setting it in front of her. “You having fun?”
“Oh yeah.” She nods, taking a long drink. “I’m curious—do you think a cocktail server in a bar like this would make as much money as a lawyer?”
I know it’s a joke, but a lick of pleasure rushes through me so hard and fast I have to close my eyes to steady myself, that she’s even thinking about what it would be like to work here.
With me. I should have paid more attention in biology class, because I don’t have the words to explain the things she does to me.
“More, actually,” I tell her, hoping she doesn’t notice the stumble. “Especially with a face like yours.”
I woke up this morning with Ava’s heart beating against my ribs, and as I stared up at the ceiling thinking about everything we’d done, I felt the urgency of this second chance slam into me.
I know this little marriage deal was only supposed to be a convenient way for us both to solve some problems—but after last night, shit’s changed, and I’m not a kid anymore.
I’m smarter now. I can see through the bullshit lies she tells herself because she thinks it’s better that way.
And I’m not gonna let her keep getting away with it.
“I hope it’s okay with you, but I’m going to try to liven the place up.” She scooches off the barstool and lands on her feet, angling away from me.
“What does that mean?”
She looks back at me over her shoulder, throwing me a wry grin. “You’ll see.”
Within minutes, Ava’s rallied to get at least eighty percent of our patrons onto their feet after feeding quarters into the jukebox.
The sound of bagpipes fills the space as “Copperhead Road” starts playing, and Ava squeals, quickly working to show the group the steps before the lyrics start.
At first, no one gets it, but they’re enamored by her dazzling insistence and do their best to follow along as she shoots her feet out on the ground in front of her, the heel of her boots clacking against the hardwood floor.
Eventually people start catching on, and soon they’re all stomping in unison to the beat of the song, eyes stuck on her feet to follow her lead.
I watch from behind the bar, in disbelief and a little awe.