Chapter 9 - The Drive Home
The Monday morning drive back up Highway 1 was remarkably quiet, save for the hum of the truck tires and the soft, acoustic melodies of Fleetwood Mac playing quietly on the stereo.
The wedding, the family summit, the dramatic exit of Derek and Ashley, and the overwhelming wave of Keller family shock had all dissolved into the rearview mirror.
Now, it was just the two of us.
Brooke sat in the passenger seat with her legs tucked underneath her, staring down at her left hand. For the hundredth time since we left Monterey, she turned her hand back and forth, watching the morning sunlight catch the polished dark walnut and silver inlay of the handmade ring resting on her finger.
"It still doesn't make any sense," she murmured, a soft smile playing on her lips.
"What doesn't?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the winding coastal road ahead.
"That you carved this. In your shop. Before we even left." She held her hand up toward the dashboard light. "You brought a ring to a fake engagement, Leo. That’s premeditated insanity."
"I was prepared for emergencies," I defended myself, though a faint flush warmed the back of my neck. "A guy has to have options when he’s dealing with Eleanor Keller."
"Right. Emergency ring-carving." She laughed, leaning her head back against the seat and looking over at me. "You know my mother is already planning the real wedding, right? She’s talking about renting a vineyard in Napa, hiring a string orchestra, and inviting three hundred people we’ve never met."
"Let her plan," I said, glancing sideways at her and catching the warm, brilliant light in her eyes. "We don't have to show up. We can elope on a private island with a couple of sea turtles, just like you planned."
Brooke smiled, reaching across the center console to slide her hand into mine. Her fingers locked tightly between mine, warm, familiar, and completely real.
"No turtles," she whispered. "Just us."
May you like
The Pacific ocean stretched out endlessly to our left, vast and blue and crashing against the cliffs, while the road ahead wound its way north toward home. The lie was over. The game had ended. And as I gripped her hand tighter, I knew that whatever we were building now, it was going to last forever.
***
