Page 113 of The Pocket Pair

Chevy—in his uniform, standing in the middle of Mr. Silver’s gallery, grinning at me. I’m about to launch myself into his arms when something snags my gaze. I suck in a breath.

Every painting hanging up is one of mine. Luis Henry promised to pack and ship them after I left, claiming he was more familiar with how to pack for shipping and how to deal with the postal service. Obviously, he was in on this.

Aside from my paintings, the room is also full of people. Winnie and Kyoko. The entire Graham fam. The ladies from the LLLS. I’m happy to see Charlie too, standing between Winnie and Tank, looking like he always belonged.

And … is that Mari?

She gives me a smug look that then turns soft. I’m confused for a second, but I bet, unlike me, she didn’t skimp on plane tickets and flew direct, beating me back to Texas.

All my friends. All our family. All smiling.

I falter, wanting to rush forward into Chevy’s arms, but suddenly feeling overwhelmed by all of this. Tears, which never falter, prick my eyes. I try to breathe because I don’t want to have a whole breakdown.

“What is this?” I whisper.

Chevy grins his signature crooked grin with an added side of tenderness he only reserves for me. “This is your gallery show.”

“Oh.”

Chevy drops to one knee pulling what looks like a ring box from his pocket. “And your engagement party.”

I bite my lip, the tears winning the battle as a few escape down my cheeks. “So cocky,” I say. “You planned a party without even waiting for me to say yes?”

A few people chuckle, and Chevy’s grin widens. “I have many faults, but I’ve never claimed to suffer from a lack of confidence. Now, get over here, Tiny.”

Chevy holds out his free hand, and I feel a soul-deep sigh the moment my hand slides into his. He gives me three squeezes, which is a code he and his mama used to say I love you. More tears fall.

“You know I’m not great with words about feelings,” he says, looking up at me. “So, I’ll keep this short and sweet. Valentina, you’re it for me. I love you. I’m nowhere near good enough for you, but I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be. I promise to be faithful.”

He pauses here, his lips trembling for a moment before he gains control. I know just how much that promise means to him.

“I’m yours. Everything. The good and the bad.”

“And the ugly,” Pat says under a cough from nearby.

Chevy shakes his head. “I can’t get through one simple proposal.” There’s soft laughter from around the room, and then Chevy’s attention zeroes back in on me with renewed intensity. “While I was visiting you in Costa Rica, I asked Mari for permission. And, with a few stipulations, Mari offered her blessing.”

The fact that Chevy did that, somehow without me knowing when I swear we spent every minute of his time there attached at the hip, means so much to me. More tears. More butterflies. And more of my heart being owned by this man.

“Tiny, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

I don’t even look at the ring in the small box he’s holding. I don’t need to. It’s about the man, not the token of his love. “Yes.”

The word has barely left my lips when Chevy stands, throwing his arms around me—finally!—and picking me up off my feet to spin me around. People around us cheer and I’m crying even harder with a smile that cramps my cheeks.

“Look up!” someone calls, and I glance up to see a small bush hanging above our heads.

“For old time’s sake,” Chevy says, and with tears streaming down my face, laughing and crying, I press my lips to his.

My palms glide over his chest, feeling the raised skin of his scars. He calls them ugly, but I kissed every single one on a beach in Costa Rica, while a band of monkeys jabbered at us, shaking the trees. We couldn’t decide if they were impersonating an angry mob or cheering crowd, but in the end, kissing eclipsed the argument.

Though we’ve spent precious little of our actual relationship in person, he wrote me surprisingly romantic love letters in a script as tidy as his house. We called every day, video chatted as often as we could, and messaged constantly. Now, we have endless days ahead together, and the anticipation bowls me over inside, as a shudder of happiness goes through me.

My Chevy. My best friend. My fiancé.

Finally, and maybe for the first time in my life, I’m home.

THE END

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