Page 50 of Cajuns. Love. Curves.

Still, he is absolutely the kind of guy who will drop everything and take his boat two hours round trip to pick you up from a neighboring island, not once, but two days in a row.

I don’t actually know what shit went wrong that caused him to leave the SEALs. It’s the kind of thing you don’t ask unless you know a guy really well. I’ve noticed him rolling his shoulder reflexively and flexing his hand every once in a while, but I don’t ask.

We make it all the way back to the turtle rescue station without him asking a single question. I can only assume my initial text of “I need a ride out” was enough information for him.

Once he’s got the boat tied up to the dock, he still says nothing. But there’s a small fridge in the boathouse. He pulls out a Belikin and hands it to me. Then he nods toward the pools that house the turtles who are being rehabilitated. I pop open the beer and follow him out.

For nearly an hour, I follow him around while he feeds the turtles and cleans out the pool. I sip my beer. I help when he lets me. I keep expecting him to ask what the hell is up—why I needed his help impressing a woman one day and then needed the fuck off the island the next. But he doesn’t.

Instead, I just quietly tag along, using the time to think and get my head straight. Five whole hours pass before Jonah finally talks.

I guess he’s done with whatever chores he has at the turtle station, because he gets out a second Belikin for me and one for himself. After he takes a long draw on the bottle, he says, “Man, you’ve sure been quiet today.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “I’vebeen quiet?”

Jonah’s lips twitch, getting about as close to a smile as I’ve seen. He nods as if he sees my point and takes another drink, then tips his bottle in my direction like he’s encouraging me to talk.

Or maybe to spill my guts.

So, slowly, I start talking.

I tell him about Cassie emailing me all those months ago—nearly two years ago now. About the friendship that sprouted between us. About how certain I am it’s meant to be more than that. Obviously, I skip the private parts, because no one but me and Cassie need to know that.

Finally, when I stop talking, he just thinks for a minute. “So what’s the plan?” Jonah asks.

I take another drink of my beer as I contemplate my answer. “Checked on the boat ride over. If you can take me to the mainland tomorrow morning, I can catch a flight to Houston in the afternoon.”

An expression of obvious distaste flickers across Jonah’s face. “You running?”

“Running? Hell, no. From Houston, it’s a short drive to Saddle Creek, where her parents live and where her brothers are now. I’m gonna ask her dad’s permission to marry her. And then,” I shrug, because I haven’t thought any farther ahead than that. “I guess I head back to California, get my mom’s engagement ring out of the safe deposit box. I can be back here in—” I do the math in my head. “Two days. Three tops.”

I nod to myself as the plan comes together.

She wants proof that I love her? A wedding ring and a proposal should do it.

“Sounds like a plan,” Jonah says quietly, then takes another drink of his beer, before rubbing at his mouth with the back of his hand. “If you’re a pussy, that is.”

“What was that?”

“You heard me.” He levels a look at me and speaks slowly, like he thinks I’m a moron besides being a pussy. “Sounds like a plan if you’re a pussy.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re stalling.”

“I’m strategizing.”

“Bullshit. I gave you all afternoon to strategize, and that’s the best you came up with? Don’t forget, I went through BUD/S with you. With five hours to strategize, you could figure out how to storm Buckingham Palace and kidnap one of the Queen’s dogs. So don’t try to tell me asking her dad’s permission to court her is the best you can come up with.”

Well, fuck me.

This is the most I’ve heard Jonah say in one sitting. Ever.

“You have a better idea?”

“First off, a woman like her doesn’t need you to ask her dad for permission to marry her. She’s not gonna put up with that patriarchal bullshit.”

“I’m trying to do this right”

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