Page 84 of Saving it with My Best Friend's Brother

“Speaking of joy.” Taylor’s voice dropped to our childhood secret-sharing whisper. “That ring’s still burning a hole in your pocket, isn’t it?”

My fingers betrayed me, automatically touching the box that had become a constant companion. “That obvious?”

“Hunter, you’ve been patting that pocket like a lucky charm for weeks. Van’s about to lose the betting pool.”

“There’s a pool?”

“Focus.” Her swat landed gently against my arm as emotion brightened her eyes. “When are you finally going to ask her? Or are you planning to keep that ring warm for another month?”

Amelia’s entrance lit the lobby like a sunrise. “The Historical Society approved everything! The conservation plans, the educational center designs—“ She paused, reading our faces. “What?”

“Nothing.” Taylor’s innocence wouldn’t have fooled anyone. “Just watching Claire and Michael work.”

Understanding curved Amelia’s lips as Claire’s fingers lingered on Michael’s arm, his entire expression softening at her touch.

“They’re good together, aren’t they? She brings out his softer side.”

“Like someone I know,” Taylor muttered, earning my glare.

The ring seemed to pulse against my leg as I watched Amelia practically glow with her success. This was the moment I’d been waiting for.

“The contractors need signatures.” Plans crystallized as I spoke. “Walk with me?”

Taylor’s slight nod promised everything would be ready when we returned. Her phone appeared before we’d taken three steps.

Amelia’s fingers wove naturally through mine as we headed toward the construction site. The old ski patrol cabin’s transformation stretched before us—windows reaching for valley views, spaces designed for learning and community.

“It’s happening.” Her breath caught as she took in the progress.

“Having second thoughts?”

“Never.” Her grip tightened. “You know what Mom wrote in one of her letters? ‘Dreams grow better when shared.’”

The ring warmed against my leg like a promise. This was right. This was the time.

“I need to handle some paperwork.” My heart thundered as pieces fell into place. “Meet me on the deck at sunset?”

Her smile outshone the morning light. “It’s a date.”

Hours blurred in quiet preparation. Taylor coordinated with Mom while Van organized the community. Claire read my intentions instantly, pulling Michael into photo arrangements that seemed to require constant touches.

Evening gilded Pine Haven’s peaks as I led Amelia toward our deck. Mom’s flowers perfumed the mountain air with sweetness. Tiny lights twinkled overhead—Claire’s touch, though Michael’s height had proved useful.

“Another surprise dinner?” Something in her voice suggested she felt the weight of this moment.

“Something like that.”

The ring box burned against my palm as we stepped onto the deck. Instead of table settings, photographs hung from delicate strings between lights. Our story is caught in images—past and present, each one catching the sunset’s last rays like captured memories.

“Hunter...” Her fingers flew to her lips.

“Look.” I guided her to the first image: teenage Amelia and Taylor at their science fair. The ring’s weight reminded me this was right. This was us.

“You found more?”

“Your dad helped.” The next showed Pine Haven’s early days, our mothers standing proud. “They were all protecting something bigger than themselves.”

“Like we are now.” Her hand found mine as naturally as breathing.

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