Page 40 of Cold Feet
He caught my foot between his, holding it hostage with a mischievous grin that made my heart stutter. The casual contact sent warmth spreading up my leg, and I found myself intensely aware of the pressure of his foot against mine.
"Honey, I've been meaning to ask," my mother said, her tone deceptively casual. "Have you two started thinking about wedding colors yet? I was going through some ideas, just preliminary thoughts, of course, and I found this soft seafoam palette that would be perfect for a beach ceremony."
I nearly choked on my mojito. "Mom, we haven't even… "
"Blue," Cam interrupted smoothly. "Blues and silvers, right, babe?"
My head snapped toward him. What was he doing?
Hecontinued, his voice steady. "Blues reflect the ocean, which is meaningful since we live in St. Pete and spend so much time by the water. We both love the beach. And silver would complement Lana's ring so perfectly."
I stared at him, genuinely speechless. We had never discussed wedding colors. We had never discussed a wedding at all, because there wasn't going to be one. Yet here he was, answering with such confidence, such specific detail – as if we'd had long, long conversations about our future together.
"Exactly right," my mother beamed. "Oh, that's just perfect! The blue would bring out your eyes, Cam, and Lana has always looked lovely in silver. See, Frank? I told you he was a keeper. Most men wouldn't care about details like that."
My father made a noncommittal noise, but I caught the slight approval in his gaze as it shifted between Cam and me.
"What about a date?" my mother pressed, clearly encouraged. "I know it's still early, but venues book up so quickly these days."
"June?" Cam replied without missing a beat. "After the playoffs. That way we could take a proper honeymoon during the off-season."
I kicked him again, harder this time. He squeezed my foot in response, his expression innocently bland.
"Early summer is perfect," my mother agreed. "May can be unpredictable, but June is lovely. What about the 15th? That's when your father and I were married."
"Mom," I finally managed, finding my voice. "We're still figuring things out. Can we just enjoy being engaged for a like five minutes before we start planning the whole wedding?"
My mother looked momentarily crestfallen, but my father came to the rescue. "Diana darling, let them breathe. They just got here."
"Of course, of course." She waved a hand, recovering quickly. "I'm just excited. My only daughter, engaged to such a wonderful young man. It's a lot for a mother's heart."
"Well, we're not in any rush," I said, hoping to stem the tide of wedding planning. "We have plenty of time to figure out the details."
"Of course you do," my mother agreed, though her expression said otherwise. "Now, tell me how you proposed, Cam. Lana hasn't shared the details yet."
I braced myself, genuinely curious how Cam would navigate this minefield.
"Well," Cam began, setting down his drink. "It wasn't exactly planned."
I watched him, fascinated despite myself. His expression had softened, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth as if he were recalling an actual cherished memory.
"We were at the beach one evening after a particularly tough week at work," he continued. "One of those days where it felt like everything that could go wrong, did. Lana was stressed, so I suggested we take a walk by the water to clear our heads."
He glanced at me, his eyes warm. "Well, she was standing there with the sunset behind her, with that adorably frustrated yet determined face, like she always does when she's tackling a tough problem, and I just... knew."
My heart was pounding so hard I was certain everyone could hear it.
"I didn't have anything planned to say," Cam admitted with a self-deprecating laugh that sounded remarkably genuine. "I just blurted out, 'Marry me.' Not even a question… more of a realization. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world."
"And what did you say?" my mother asked, turning to me with rapt attention.
I swallowed hard, thrown completely off-balance by the emotion in Cam's voice, the vivid detail of his fabricated memory.
"I said..." My voice faltered, then steadied as I realized where this was going. "I said, 'Are you serious right now?'"
Cam's eyes locked with mine, and something passed between us – an electric current of understanding, of shared deception that somehow felt more intimate than it should.
"And I said, 'I've never been more serious about anything in my life,'" he finished softly.
