"Don't let it get out," Declan warns. "I have a reputation to maintain."
"What about you, Eli?" Hudson asks. "Any proposal plans we should know about?"
"I'm single," Eli reminds us. "Happily forever single."
"For now," Reid mutters, and Eli throws a peanut at him.
"So, what's your plan?" Hudson asks me. "Please tell me it's better than proposing during labor."
"Hey!" Kane protests.
I pull out my phone and show them a picture. "I'm getting a puppy."
They all lean in to look. It's a golden retriever puppy, eight weeks old, absolutely adorable.
"You're proposing with a dog?" Reid asks.
"The ring will be on the collar," I explain. "I'm setting up dinner in the backyard of the new house. Lights in the oak tree, her favorite meal from that Italian place she loves, music. Then the puppy comes out with the ring."
"That's either brilliant or insane," Hudson says.
"Why not both?" I reply.
"What if the puppy eats the ring?" Kane asks, because of course he does.
"The ring will be in a secure box attached to the collar," I say. "I've thought this through."
"What if the puppy runs away?" Declan adds.
"It's a fenced yard."
"What if it rains?" Reid joins in.
"I have a tent on standby."
"What if she's allergic to dogs?" Eli asks.
"She's not. She had a golden retriever growing up. She's mentioned wanting one a hundred times."
They all exchange looks.
"This might actually work," Hudson admits.
"It's definitely better than the flash mob idea," Kane agrees.
"Everything's better than the flash mob idea," Declan says.
"One more question," Reid says. "What's the puppy's name?"
I grin. "That's for Kendall to decide. But I'm voting for anything except Gertie."
They all laugh, remembering the chaos of the therapy goat.
"To Jax," Hudson raises his beer. "May your proposal involve zero goats and one yes."
"To second chances," Kane adds.
"To not screwing it up this time," Declan contributes.