After All (Cape Harbor #1)(101)



Inside the ballroom, holding up the corner of the room, stood Bowie and Graham. According to Bowie, they were on hand in the event the jocks got out of control. Brooklyn knew otherwise and kept her comments to herself. The past week, Bowie had been pacing the floor, stressed about tonight. She couldn’t blame him—their daughter was taking her first rite of passage into full-fledged teenage life, and for him it was too soon.

The DJ played all the hits. It didn’t take Brooklyn long to figure out who were the leaders of the school. A small group, much like the one she had been in, took to the dance floor immediately. They danced together, with their hands up in the air, singing along to the songs, and when a slow one came on, they paired off.

“Bring back memories?” Monroe nudged Brooklyn and tilted her head toward the dance floor.

“So many. I was so nervous at my first dance, but you guys made me feel like I was part of your group for years instead of days. I’ll never forget that.”

“You just fit in with us, B. It was like we had known you forever.”

She also knew it had a lot to do with Austin. He had a commanding presence, and people followed him everywhere. She smiled and bumped Monroe with her elbow. “You made it easy to fit in.”

“I’m so happy you decided to stay.”

“Me too.” It was then that she caught Bowie glowering from across the room. She followed the blazing path his eyes were burning into the crowd and saw that Brystol was dancing with a boy. Brooklyn watched her baby girl, with her arms around this boy’s shoulders, sway to the music. She had her hair pinned up, exposing her neck, and had taken her glasses off. She could see but wouldn’t win any distance contests tonight, that was for sure. It was Brystol’s strapless, form-fitting navy-blue dress that really caught Brooklyn by surprise. Her daughter was growing up right in front of her eyes, and there wasn’t anything she could do to stop it.

Bowie, though, had other ideas about giving his daughter space to grow. As soon as he stepped forward, Graham reached for him and held him back. Brooklyn rushed over to him and placed her hands on his chest, pushing him out of view of the kids.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Him,” he pointed to the boy their daughter was with and then quickly turned his finger toward Graham. “He’s been reminding me of the things we did in high school.”

Brooklyn scowled at Graham. With her attention back on Bowie, she caressed his cheek, loving the way his stubble felt against her fingertips. “Brystol is just dancing with the boy. I’m sure that if he were something serious, she would’ve told you. Just remember who she went to the football game with last night. I have a feeling you’re going to be her number one guy for a while, so let’s check our emotions at the door. And for God’s sake, ignore Graham because he’s up to no good and trying to goad you into being stupid. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten some of the really dumb shit you guys did when we were younger.” Brooklyn paused and looked out over the kids, spotting Brystol immediately.

“Look at her, Bowie; she’s having the best time.”

“She’s so beautiful, Brooklyn. Thank you.”

“For what?” she asked, meeting his gaze.

“For coming back, for being here. I love you both so much.”

“And we love you.”

Hours later, Brooklyn moved the broom back and forth, pushing everything to the center of the floor, while Monroe and a few teachers let the helium out of the balloons and pulled the linens off the tables. By all accounts, the dance was a success. No one got caught making out or doing anything they shouldn’t have, and very few students left early. Toward the end of the night, parents came in and admired the picture boards, laughing at their hairstyles. Some even took to the dance floor, despite protests from their children. Bowie had tried to get Brooklyn to dance, but she had refused to embarrass Brystol like that, at least not at her first dance.

As much as Brooklyn wanted to leave the mess until tomorrow, she couldn’t. They had back-to-back baby showers booked in the ballroom, and she would rather sleep in as long as possible. There was something about waking up in Bowie’s arms that made everything feel right.

When she came to the large windows, she noticed a trail of candles outside on the beach. Not just any part of the beach, but the part the inn owned. She set the broom down and told Monroe she would be right back. It wasn’t uncommon for people to set up on the beach, but they couldn’t do it without her permission. She grabbed her sweater and wrapped her arms around her torso to ward off the nighttime chill.

“Excuse me,” she hollered as she descended the stairs. She followed the candle path around the small shed to find Bowie there on bended knee, illuminated by the moon and soft white lights hanging from the eaves of the shed. She gasped and covered her mouth, walking slowly toward him. Resting in his palm was a black box. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

“What I would’ve done years ago if I had the chance. Brooklyn, I’m not perfect, but I feel pretty damn close when I’m with you, and if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to continue to feel this way forever. Will you do me the second-biggest honor of my life and become my wife?”

She nodded, but the words to follow weren’t exactly what he was expecting. “Wait, what was the first?”

Bowie stood and peered over her shoulder.

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