Page 34 of A Wulver for the Week

“It’s a Saturday. That’s my busiest day.”

“But you’ve made a grand sale,” I hint, knowing full well he’ll say yes.

“You’re tying the knot?”

“That’s my hope. If your ring does the trick.”

Jan yawns and chuckles. “Youhave to do the trick. My ring is just the prize.”

I look at the sleeping beauty sprawled on the bed. “She’sthe prize,” I whisper.

“Good answer. See you tomorrow.”

13: Real

Okay. I’m a selfish brat, but Craig said there would be a surprise today. At least, I think he said that.

But there’s been no surprise. There’s also been no time.

The resort lobby looks like the airport scene from Home Alone, with people rushing everywhere, staff pushing baggage carts, elevators dinging, and my family trying to pack half the breakfast buffet in their purses. There’s weeping, laughing, hugging, and way too many hungover and tired people to navigate. We’re one of the first ones out—and I don’t even want to know what it’ll be like closer to checkout.

Craig keeps his promises. If he hasn’t given you a surprise yet, it’s because there’s been no time.

I swallow a screwdriver (the drink, not the tool), telling myself that the vodka and orange juice cocktail is perfectly acceptable at eight in the morning as we bounce across the choppy waves. It’s a breakfast item, technically. Besides, I need a little hair of the dog because I didn’t get any tongue of the wolfman to settle my pre-flight jitters.

“Here, love. Bagel?” Craig hands me a perfectly crispy bagel with melty cream cheese, still warm as it’s been wrapped in foil.

“Where did you—”

“I made us each one. Thought you could use something in your stomach. And look, I made us a playlist this morning. All videos of beaches in Caithness for next Spring Break. It’s mytreat next time,” he murmurs, kissing my ear as we stand along the rail of the deck.

Mirror Key drops away, and the mainland zips closer. I snuggle into Craig’s side, and there’s suddenly a huge lump in my throat that has nothing to do with the too-big bite of bagel I just tried to scarf down.

“What’s wrong, beauty?”

“I love that you call me beauty. And love. And bring me bagels and rub my ankles,” I whisper, huddling in my Team Bride hoodie (part of the lavish set of bridesmaid gifts Gerri gave out during our spa day).

Craig wraps his arm around me and hugs me to his chest, my back to his front. “I have eyes. How could I call you anything but beautiful?” he asks with a nudge of his lips to my temple.

“I don’t want this to end. I want this to be real.” My eyes overflow. I’m not wearing any fancy mascara or makeup today, and Craig still loves me. Hell, he’s seen me sweaty and covered in someone else’s vomit, and he says he’s... He’s loved me from the first day we met. He’s known.

He’s known, and I haven’t.

Maybe he thinks he has to wait until I catch up to ask me?

“Maybe it’s too good to be true. Like a fairytale,” I sniffle and mumble into my chest. Over the roar of the engine and the crash of waves and wind, I doubt Craig or the few members of Barry’s family who are also leaving the resort early can hear.

“I’m a fairytale creature, Minnie, but I’m real enough, aren’t I?”

I smile up at him, a watery, sniffly mess. “Yeah.”

“I’m going to make this real. But it’ll be real in Pine Ridge. No tropical breezes. Twelve-hour shifts. Budget meetings. Date night at one of the handful of restaurants. Dancing under the stars in my back garden, not under palm trees.”

Still sounds like paradise to me.” I turn and snuggle into his arms. “That’s all I want. You. You and me.”

“Oh, you have that, love. You do. You will. Trust me?”

“I do. I will.”

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