28. Noah
Chapter twenty-eight
Noah
M y hands won’t stop shaking.
Not from the ocean breeze or the thrum of waves—but because in less than an hour, I’m asking the woman I love to change both our lives.
The beach glows like something out of a dream.
Soft lanterns hang between driftwood poles, swaying gently like they’re holding their breath too. Strings of lights arc overhead, casting a golden haze that blurs the edge between sand and sky. Emily thought of everything.
There’s a path of seashells leading from the dune stairs down to the main area. White chairs are half-buried in the sand, facing the sea, and the tables gleam with glassware, lace runners, and flowers I didn’t even know grew this time of year.
Everyone in town attending the fundraiser is already here, an hour early, on purpose. Orchestrated by Ava, Rachel, Emily, and Margaret.
They’re milling around the, dressed in their best, trying not to look like they’re all waiting to hide behind the tiki bar and the sound system. But I feel it. That hum. The knowing looks they send in my direction.
The claps on the back that land a little harder than usual, and the nods that linger. The way Frank just walked by, winked, and whispered, “Don’t faint.”
They all know how pivotal this moment is; how scared I am.
My palms are sweating.
I’m in a tailored charcoal suit that Margaret helped me pick out, and my collar suddenly feels too tight. The ring box is tucked inside my jacket pocket, pressing against my ribs like it knows exactly what kind of weight it carries.
I shift on my feet, scan the crowd, and try to spot Emily through the sea of people, but it’s Margaret who finds me first.
“You’re pacing,” she says, sliding up beside me and standing calmly. She’s currently the voice of reason when I’ve clearly lost mine.
“I’m not pacing,” I mutter, even as I do exactly that.
She lifts a brow. "Noah, you’re sweating through your undershirt and looking like you're about to run a rescue call. You good?"
I rake a hand through my hair, exhale. “What if she says no?”
Margaret softens. “Kate adores you. And if you can survive a house fire, emotional repression, and a five-year-old quizzing you about dinosaurs, you can survive this.”
I huff a laugh, "It’s not just about surviving. I want to get this right. For her. For Parker."
“You will,” she says, squeezing my shoulder. "Now go check in with Emily."
I nod and make my way to the back corner where Emily stands, clipboard in hand, radiating efficiency. She’s in a floor-length emerald dress, hair swept up, eyes sharp and focused.
“Emily..."
Emily doesn’t even look up before she interrupts me. “Dress is ready, Rachel did her hair. Parker’s tie matches your pocket square. Connor will text Ava. He and Knox are on their way to pick them up now. ETA is ten minutes."
Ten minutes. Shit.
My heart thuds.
"Music goes silent the second they pull up. Everyone goes quiet. Then we wait until they’re in the barn and….”
“…then she walks in and sees you standing under the lights like a lovesick fool,” Emily finishes. “She’s going to say yes, Noah. You love her. You turned this fundraiser into a Jane Austen-worthy proposal for her. She’s going to melt.”
I nod, but my stomach is in knots. I haven’t eaten all day.
Ava runs up. “They’re five minutes out.”
My lungs stop misfire.
I take my place near the arch Knox and Tyler built, wrapped in fresh eucalyptus and white roses. The band falls quiet. Lights dim to a soft amber glow. The entire town slips into silence, then into shadows. Someone kills the lanterns near the door.
My stomach flips again. I nod, rub my palms down my thighs. There’s no stopping the nerves I've felt all day; part excitement, part hope, part something I don’t even have a name for.
The wind lifts the edge of the tablecloths, salt in the air, everything lit in pink-gold light as the sun begins its slow drop.
I press a hand to my chest and silently pray.
Please let her say yes.
The waves are still rolling in, slow and steady, like they know something’s about to change. Everyone’s hidden behind draped cabanas and tiki bar posts and floral arches like kids playing hide-and-seek. The ocean's hush is louder than it’s ever been.
And then….
I hear tires on gravel, and Emily grabs my arm, squeezes once before letting go.
Ava shoots a quick thumbs-up from behind a flower cart. I can’t see Margaret or Rachel, but I know they’re close. The beach is suddenly a breath held by an entire town.
I can't see her yet. Just Parker’s voice, high and full of bounce:
“Noah’s here!"
I go to one knee before I realize I’ve moved, arms out just in time for Parker to throw himself at me. I hold him tight, bury my face in his hair. He smells like salt and sand and strawberry jam.
“Mommy’s right behind me,” he whispers, grinning into my neck. “She looks like a princess.”
I look up.
And there she is.
Kate stands just past the dunes, frozen like she walked into a dream she doesn’t trust yet. The path of shells glows under her feet. Her dress is soft blue, something light and floaty that moves with the wind like it was made for this night.
Off-the-shoulder sleeves. Fitted bodice. A slit up the side that shows just enough of her legs to make my throat go dry. Her hair is down, wild from the wind, but somehow still elegant. Loose waves curling around her face, catching in her lashes.
She doesn’t know what’s happening yet, but she knows it’s something.
Her eyes scan the beach.
No music. No people. Just the glow of the lanterns.
And then she sees me, Parker in my arms.
Her lips part with the hint of a smile.
I rise slowly, set Parker down, and let him run toward the shadow where Connor waits.
Kate starts walking toward me.
I meet her halfway, because I can’t stay still. My legs are moving before my brain catches up, and when I stop in front of her, I can't remember my own name.
“Where is everyone? Did I come early or late?” She asks as soon as I reach her.
“Hey, you okay?” Her voice is cautious as she examines my face.
“No,” I say, and it just comes out honest. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared in my life.”
Her brow furrows.
Then I drop to one knee.
The world stills.
Her gasp hits me like a wave. I open the ring box, chest hammering.
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to love again,” I say. “But then you showed up… and wrecked every wall I’d built.”
Kate trembles.
I don’t have a speech. Not a clean one. Not the one I practiced with Blaze at two in the morning.
But I look up at her, and somehow, the words come.
“I thought loving again meant forgetting the past,” I start, voice thick. “But then you showed up and proved love doesn't erase what came before. It just builds something new."
Kate’s lips tremble.
“I didn’t mean for you to be the one. But now I can’t imagine my life without you. I love you, Katie. I love Parker. I love how you challenge me, calm me, make me feel like I still have a heart worth holding.”
My voice cracks.
“I want to make a home with you. Not just one you live in, but one you feel in your bones. I want to be yours in every way a man can be. I want your mornings, your storms, your quiet, your chaos. All of it. And I want Parker to know I'm here forever. Loving you isn’t something I chose. It’s something my soul remembered the moment I saw you. "
I hold up the ring.
“Will you marry me, Katie?”
She stares at me, breathing hard, blinking like she can’t believe this is real.
Then she drops to her knees and wraps me in her arms and whispers. “Yes. Yes. Yes, Noah.”
A gasp ripples through the air—then the lights bloom, the music swells, and the whole beach erupts.
A joyful, wild sound. Strings and horns layered with that familiar song Emily picked out, she said it’s Kate’s favorite, something golden and rich that lifts over the dunes as if it’s always belonged here.
The first notes catch the breeze and sweep across the sand, curling around us like a warm tide.
Overhead, string lights flick on like stars, stretching from the trees to the tent to the wooden arch behind us, everything soaked in an amber glow. It’s as if the whole night decided to open its arms to us.
And then everyone surges forward.
Laughter, cheers, and claps spill out first, wild and high. Then bodies follow, dozens of them, emerging from behind coolers, surfboards, palm trees, tent s . Emily jogs out, waving her hands in the air, eyes already shining.
Knox comes barreling from the deck with Maddox. Rachel tosses something high into the sky, white petals fluttering down like soft rain, and yells, “SHE SAID YES!” like she’s announcing it to the ocean.
Ava’s crying openly.
Not the dainty kind either, her shoulders are shaking, her hands are pressed over her mouth, and she’s laughing through the tears like she can’t decide what emotion to feel first. She’s clutching Beverly’s hand while Elaine fans herself beside them. Dottie’s sniffling. Everyone’s eyes are on us.
Margaret whistles so sharp it cuts through the music.
“About damn time!” she shouts, voice rough with emotion, and then she throws her arms up and pulls Emily into a hug that nearly topples them both.
Connor lifts Parker into the air, high above the crowd.
Parker shrieks with joy, wild and unfiltered, and his little arms fly wide like he’s about to take flight. Connor spins him in a circle, and Parker yells at the top of his lungs, “ COACH NOAH’S GONNA BE MY DAD!”
Cheers ripple down the beach like a wave hitting the shore.
One person starts clapping, and then another, and then the whole place erupts in claps, whoops, and whistles. It’s loud. It’s alive. The crowd surges forward, laughter and cheers kicking up little clouds of sand.
But through it all, I don’t move.
I don’t turn. I don’t wave. I don’t even try to speak.
Because I’m holding her.
My fiancée.
And nothing else exists.
Her arms are wrapped around my waist as she laughs, surveying the crowd, her face lit up as the community celebrates us.
I turn her face to mine, lean forward, and catch her mouth with mine. It’s clumsy, but we both laugh into it. My hand slips to her cheek, thumb brushing the dampness there, and I hold her like she’s something fragile and infinite all at once.
It’s not a clean kiss. Not a movie kiss. It’s too desperate, too full of everything I’ve wanted to say and everything I’m still afraid of. There’s a tremor in her lips, and one in mine, and somehow they find rhythm anyway.
When I pull back, she keeps her eyes closed for a second longer. As though she’s memorizing the moment.
She opens them slowly, and I’m not sure who’s shaking harder; her or me.
Somewhere behind us, over the swell of laughter and music, a voice cuts through, warm and familiar.
“Alright, lovebirds!” Knox hollers from the drink table, raising a glass as though he’s leading a toast. “It's fundraiser time!"
A round of laughter breaks out. Someone claps. Someone else cheers.
Kate laughs, head against my shoulder, and I press my lips to her temple.
And as we turn toward the long tables set beneath the torches, Parker still bouncing beside us, I know...
This isn’t the end of something broken. It’s the beginning of something whole.