Chapter 30 Scotty #2
She tells us her sister took her daughter home earlier so she could stay out a bit longer. “First time I’ve been out after eight p.m. in months,” she admits.
“Then you better live it up and enjoy it,” Adrienne says, linking arms with her as if they’ve been friends for years. “Come hang with us, Slades. We’ve got plenty of drama to keep you entertained.”
Sadie laughs again and lets herself get pulled into the fold. Within minutes, she’s chatting with Milly, both women jumping into a conversation like they’ve known one another for years. But all I can focus on is the nerves that are mounting inside me.
I hang back a little, watching Adrienne glow in the middle of it all. Laughing with her cousins, playing matchmaker, loving every second of this small-town circus.
God, she’s it. She’s everything.
I rest a hand over the ring box in my pocket, my pulse pounding.
Almost time.
It’s the last night of the fest. And as tradition has it, the town’s favorite band, The Mountain Boys, tunes up on the small stage at the end of the square.
Adrienne’s tucked under my arm, warm against my side, laughing with Sadie and Milly about Axel’s “Renaissance man” routine.
He keeps pretending not to look over, then looks over anyway.
“Alright, folks. We’re gonna close out Fall Fest with a couple of our favorites.” Phil, the lead singer, strums a chord, then pauses, scanning the crowd like he’s hunting for someone. “But first… I was told that a certain someone out there has something he wants to say.”
My heart slams so hard I almost miss the cue. Brooklyn catches my eye from the edge of the stage and gives a tiny nod. It’s time.
I kiss Adrienne’s temple. “Be right back.”
She tilts up to me, smiling. “Where are you—”
I’m already moving, the stage blurring to a tunnel. The steps to the stage feel steeper than they should. Sawyer claps my shoulder as I pass. My palm is sweating around a velvet box I’ve been checking every five minutes since I left the house.
I turn to the crowd, and it feels like the entire damn town is still here.
Actually, they probably are. The Slades packed like a cheering section down front, Celeste and Drake shoulder to shoulder, Ranger with an arm around Dahlia, Tyler with a kid on his hip, Trent and Amelia pressed close, Dolly already crying, because of course she is.
Axel stands dead center, arms folded, jaw tight, trying to look cool. It isn’t working.
But I only see her. Adrienne, center aisle, green sweater, eyes wide and shining like she already knows and can’t make her feet move. I take the mic. My voice comes out rough. “Evening, everyone. I uh, I know this is a bit unorthodox.”
Low laughter ripples through the crowd.
I breathe. “I’m not much for speeches.” Another soft laugh. “But I figured… if there was ever a time to make one, it’s here. With everybody who’s watched us grow up and then watched me get stupid and try again.”
I find Adrienne’s gaze and hang on. “I’ve loved a lot of things in this town.
The people. The memories I have with my dad on our ranch.
The hours and hours of time I spent running around Slade Ranch with all the guys.
” I swallow. “But nothing, nothing compares to the way I love you, Adrienne Slade.”
Her hand flies to her mouth.
“I didn’t always get it right,” I say, softer now, like it’s just us.
“I took too long. I let fear make me small. But, even through all of that, you never asked me to be more than what I am. You just saw it in me anyway.” My chest tightens, and I let it.
“There’s not a day I don’t want to spend choosing you.
In the loud. In the quiet. In every ordinary minute. Adrienne, baby, will you come up here?”
She stares at me, still frozen in place. Milly and Brooklyn have to push her forward until she’s finally walking up the stairs and onto the stage, still in total shock.
“Oh my god, Scotty. What are you doing?”
My knee hits the stage wood. The box clicks open.
She looks down and gasps. A cheer from somewhere in the back. Axel’s “Come on!” cuts through and makes us both laugh.
“Adrienne Slade,” I say, voice steady now. “Will you marry me?”
For one heartbeat, the world stops. It’s like every single sound is sucked into a vacuum, and time is standing still while I wait for her reply.
Then she’s moving, launching into me so hard I lose the mic and my balance, catching her by the waist as the square erupts. She’s crying and laughing at the same time. “Yes,” she chokes, nodding so hard her hair slips free over her shoulders. “Yes. Yes.”
My hands shake as I slide the ring onto her finger. Her mom’s diamond catches every light in the square like it’s been waiting all these years for this exact night to shine.
She looks at it, then at me, like she can’t decide which one to stare at, and then she’s kissing me, smiling against my mouth. The band picks up, playing “Marry Me” by Train.
Brooklyn’s full-body sobbing into Tyler’s shoulder at this point. Dolly’s got her phone up and is narrating live to absolutely no one. One of the kids yells, “Ewwww,” which only makes everyone laugh harder.
I break the kiss enough to rest my forehead against hers. “Hi, fiancée.”
She laughs, breath hitching. “Hi, fiancé.”
Over her shoulder, I catch Hudson at the front of the crowd, hands in his pockets. There’s the faintest hint of a smile on his face, but it’s the look in his eye that tells me everything I need to know. He gives me a single, steady nod.
“Welcome to the circus,” Axel yells, then cups his hands around his mouth. “’Bout time, Bescher!” He tries not to look at Sadie as he says it and fails miserably.
Adrienne wipes her cheeks, then looks down at the ring again like she can’t help it. “It’s perfect,” she whispers.
“You can actually thank Axel for his help.”
“I’m impressed.”
“I only had to threaten his life half a dozen times to keep his mouth shut and not ruin the proposal.”
We turn back to the crowd, Phil finishes up the song, and grabs the mic. “Well, hell, that’ll warm you up better’n cider and whiskey.” Laughter rolls. “Now let’s get these two dancing.”
He eases into a slow song. I pull Adrienne in, her hand light in mine, the new weight of the ring a pulse between us.
We sway in the wash of string lights and cheers and the smell of October, the town moving around us like a tide.
Her family circling close, cousins cutting through to hug her and me.
She tilts her face up. “You nervous?”
“Was,” I admit. “Not anymore.”
“Good.” She presses closer. “Because I’m not letting you out of this. You hear me?”
“Not a chance.”
“Ready to go home?” I murmur when the song ends.
She smiles up at me. “Ready to go anywhere, as long as it’s with you.”
I lace our fingers together, our old lives and silly games we played falling behind us, and step down off the stage with my future in my hands.