“This is really nice.” He walked out onto the travertine pavers. “I can’t believe Ben isn’t making a fortune off of doing events at this place.”
“He will. Bella’s a perfectionist and wants everything to be just right before they start.” Ashley followed him. “So you approve?”
“Yeah, of course. Not that I have any choice. But even if I did, I think this would be perfect.”
“Good. Ben and Bella are doing their ceremony on the beach and reception here in the courtyard. What do you want?”
He considered all the options. “To be honest, I’d like to do the same, but I don’t think Claire will want to worry about sand in her shoes and the wind off the ocean blowing her hair during the ceremony.” The wind could be brutal at times, and it was unpredictable. But there was something strong and striking about the wild ways of nature. Still, he was making decisions for both of them, and Claire trusted him to take her desires into account. “So what are you thinking in terms of setup?”
A breeze rustled Ashley’s hair across her cheeks while she studied the courtyard and walked to one end. “I think I’d do an arch here, then split rows of white chairs on either side, creating an aisle here. We can adorn the ends of the aisles with bows so everyone has to enter from the outside. And depending on how simple or done up you wanted to go, we could add some flower sprays around the arch.”
He strode over. “So I’d stand about here?”
“Yes. And Claire can enter the courtyard from that lower door.”
Studying the open courtyard, he tried to picture it—how it would really be to watch Claire step down the aisle toward him.
But his mind rebelled against him, imagining a smiling blonde instead of a solemn brunette heading down the path, dressed in white, holding a simple bouquet of flowers.
Get it together, man. Derek pivoted and headed toward the fountain. He leaned over to trail his fingers through the pooled water at the bottom. The cold pricked his skin, a welcome relief to the burning sensation racing through his veins.
“Derek? You okay?” Joining him at the fountain, Ashley sat on the edge. She pulled her fingers along the placid surface, and circles rippled out at her touch. Her long hair fell over her shoulder, nearly hitting the water. His fingers ached to feel the spun gold against his skin.
Listen to him, waxing poetic. He should leave. Right now. Instead, Derek lowered himself next to her. “No, I’m not. This is hard, Ash. And I’m sick of it.”
Now why had he gone and said that? But for once, he didn’t want to think. Just wanted to be near her, to feel the electricity rolling off of her, making him feel something he hadn’t in a very long time.
Ashley pulled her hand back into her lap, wiping the water onto her jeans. “Sick of what?”
“Pretending.”
Her delicate throat bobbed and her lips parted slightly. “Pretending what?”
The silence between them pulsed with something that begged for life. Derek scooted closer, until their thighs and upper arms touched. “That I don’t feel something I shouldn’t when I’m with you.”
Eyes widening, Ashley studied his face in that perceptive way she had, as if she were looking deeper than the surface. And just like the water, her presence sent ripples through him, through his life, in a way he couldn’t deny.
She pressed her lips together for a moment, then shook her head. “You never told me your proposal story.”
The electricity between them fizzled like a bucket of water dumped on a fire. Why had she gone and brought that up?
Because she was smarter than him, that was why.
He blew out a breath and leaned forward, placing his elbows against his knees. “Uh, well, it wasn’t really your typical proposal.”
She waited, not saying a word.
Fine. She wanted the truth? “My sisters had told me I should come home soon. That Dad wasn’t doing so hot. Claire and I were talking and just sort of decided that getting married was what we wanted. There wasn’t anything really grand or special about it.” In actuality, Claire had been the one to suggest the idea, but he wasn’t going to go so far as to tell Ashley that. It still felt odd to him, since he’d been raised as a traditional sort of guy. “It wasn’t how I always pictured proposing, believe me.”
“How did you always picture it?”
Nearly missing her whispered words, he glanced at her. She picked at the cuticle of a fingernail so hard it had to have hurt. Before she could rip it to shreds, Derek enveloped her hand with his own.
Ashley tensed but otherwise didn’t move, keeping her gaze fixed on the ground. From her petite nose to her pointed chin, the planes of her face were so familiar—so beautiful. She had these little crinkles at the corners of her eyes from smiling so much. And her lips …
Derek wove their fingers together and ground his back teeth together before speaking again. “I always wanted to propose at the vineyard, at that spot in the very center where the vines veer from different directions and leave an open circle.”
She finally looked at him.
“I thought I’d line the path from the house to the spot with those lights in bags—you know, the ones we had to sell in grade school as a fundraiser.”
“Luminaries?”
“Yeah, those. Of course, I’d use fake candles inside of them. Couldn’t chance actual fire in a vineyard.” Derek licked his lips as he stared into her blue eyes. “And I’d somehow tie this ribbon from one end of the vineyard to that spot in the middle. Along that ribbon, I’d attach little notes, each one featuring a memory about our relationship.”
Ashley’s cheeks had two matching spots of red on either side. “That’s so sweet.”
Lowering his voice, he leaned closer.
