Page 44 of The Fake Out Flex

All the years later, we've kept our mouths shut and stuck to the plan.

For Dawn.

And now, for Oakey. My favorite little dude in the world.

Evie tightens her grip on my arm as the path becomes sandier.

Needing a break from my thoughts, I take in a few deep breaths and allow myself to picture this moment but in a different scenario.

One in which we're not escaping her ex's wedding, but instead Evie's my girl, and we're going down to the beach because it's something we both love to do.

Maybe we've got a couple of dogs—big dogs, because I'm a big dog guy—and they've raced ahead of us and are splashing as they run through the water.

Maybe we've just spent the entire weekend together. I would have made her breakfast in bed. She would have insisted we move to the kitchen since it allows me to keep producing more pancakes to feed her.

She would have dragged me to the Comfort Bay Farmers' Market, and I would have pretended to hate it.

We might have gone for a hike through Cuddle Cove Cliff at the crack of…two in the afternoon—Evie has never been a morning person.

I may have surprised her with a cozy movie night at home, complete with blankets, popcorn, and a selection of romcoms, because yes, they're secretly my favorite movies. But that stays between us, okay?

No telling Levi.

Or Culver.

Or even Evie, for that matter.

I'm not sure what her current taste in movies is, but she likes punk music, so there's a chance her taste in film could be equally questionable, and she would just love to tease me about it.

Maybe I'd have spent the entire weekend with a fluttery, nervous feeling ticking away in my belly, waiting for the right moment to get down on one knee and?—

Evie loses her balance, letting out a small yelp. Her nails dig into my arm.

"Sorry," she says, looking up at me and easing her grip. "Sand and heels."

"You're fine." I'm the idiot who didn't even think it might be difficult for her to navigate the sandy path in a tight dress and heels. "I've got an idea."

"Fraser, what are you doin—oomph."

"There." I scoop her off her feet and carry her, bridal-style. "Better?"

For possibly the first time in her life, Evie is speechless. After a few seconds, she adjusts to being cradled in my arms, looping one arm around the back of my neck, the other pressing into my chest.

"Better," she says so softly it almost gets lost in the breeze.

Silence envelops us as I amble on, loving the way her body feels against mine, loving the feel of holding her.

Protecting her.

I suppose I could have offered to help her take her shoes off, but I like my way much better, thank you very much.

"Are you comfortable?" I ask a few moments later.

"A pillow would be nice. Maybe a blanket. Is there any way to make my seat recline some more? And I have some thoughts about the in-flight entertainment."

I can't help but grin.

How can one woman be so perfect?

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