Page 120 of Hometown Touchdown
“Ithoughthewasgoingto do it during dessert.”
I say it so suddenly, Kate pauses mid-sip of her coffee, and Kinsey blinks like I just confessed I’m moving to Paris.
Evie, who’s sitting on her knees in the booth next to me and carefully pulling all the blueberries out of her pancake with her fingers, looks up. “Do what?”
I rest my forehead against the table. “I thought Knox was going to propose yesterday. At Thanksgiving. And he didn’t. Sonow I’m having a mild internal crisis and also I think I hate syrup now.”
Kinsey gasps. “Wait—you thought he was going to propose? Like,yesterday? During dinner?”
“Iknewsomething was up,” Kate says, setting down her mug. “You were watching him like he was a wishbone you wanted to split.”
“Because he was being all soft and glowy and affectionate,” I groan, sitting up. “He carved my turkey for me and passed me the good rolls without being asked. He kept brushing my knee under the table and hesmiledat me every time I said something, even when it wasn’t funny. That’s engagement energy.”
Kinsey leans in. “Okay, but to be fair, he also smiled when Evie told everyone she named the mashed potatoes Mr. Softy.”
Evie, without looking up, says cheerfully, “Because they were soft and mashed.”
“Poetry,” Kate says seriously, and Evie beams.
“I just…” I stab a piece of pancake and sigh. “I overheard him on the phone the day before. He was talking about how he already talked to my parents, and how he wanted it to be quiet, meaningful,ours.So naturally I thought he meant Thanksgiving. You know, the holiday we spent surrounded by all the people we love and a suspicious amount of carbs.”
Kate raises a brow. “And let me guess—you were just waiting for him to stand up and make a toast that ended with a diamond?”
“Yes!” I cry. “I even wore waterproof mascara. That’s how sure I was.”
Kinsey’s grinning now. “Okay, but between your dad knocking over the gravy boat and Evie pretending to be a pumpkin for forty-five minutes, wasthatthe romantic moment you were hoping for?”
“I wasn’t pretending,” Evie mumbles, mouth full of blueberries. “Iwasa pumpkin.”
“You were a very good pumpkin,” I say automatically, brushing a crumb off her cheek.
Kate leans forward. “He loves you. We all saw it. I mean, he looked at you like you were made of pie and starlight.”
“And he said,” Kinsey adds, pointing her fork at me, “—and I quote—‘Feels like you belong right here.’ Which, I’m sorry, is basically a proposal preview.”
“Iknow,” I groan again. “So when nothing happened—no ring, no question, not even a dramatic clink of a fork against a glass—I started spiraling. What if I misread everything? What if I’ve built this whole expectation up in my head and now I’m just going to spend the rest of the holiday season flinching every time he reaches for his back pocket?”
Kate squeezes my arm. “He’s going to ask. He’s probably just trying to make it perfect.”
Kinsey nods. “And it’s Knox. He probably wants to build the ring out of reclaimed barn wood and emotionally significant pebbles from your first date spot.”
Evie tilts her head. “Is the ring going to be pretty?”
“Probably,” I say. “Sparkly, at least.”
Evie stabs her pancake. “I’m gonna get a sparkly ring too. From Santa.”
“Well,” Kinsey murmurs. “Santa and Knox are working on similar timelines, so that checks out.”
I cover my face with both hands. “I’m not crazy, right?”
“You’re in love,” Kate says gently. “And he is too. And the moment is coming. It just…wasn’t yesterday.”
Evie climbs into my lap, wraps her little arms around my neck, and says, “He loves you sooooo much. I saw him looking at you like this.”
She makes a face—wide eyes, dopey grin, tongue half-out—and I start laughing so hard I nearly cry.
And just like that, the spiral eases. A little.
