Marrying Ember(3)

“Keep it up, you guys. You’ll really be moaning in a second. Get this. Willow will be joining us for the entire second half of the tour.”

Georgia let out a sarcastic laugh from the kitchen, Regan thumped his forehead onto the table, and I screamed internally. Angry that my plans for a romantic proposal on the last night of the tour just got a little more complicated—if not impossible—with the unwelcome presence of Willow Shaw.





“And how’s my favorite socialite-at-large?” Monica chirped playfully into the phone.

“Oh, God,” I groaned.

Sometime shortly after Ember and I got together—the first time—Monica’s background check led her to stumble upon an article in The New Yorker discussing my family’s estate. The article was supposed to be about DROP, and it was—to some extent—but they seemed to err on the side of “Wealthy Eligible Bachelor Quietly Carries Out Family’s Mission.” She promised she’d never let me hear the end of it.

“Just kidding, don’t get your money in a bunch. Anyway, it’s about damn time you called me,” she snapped. “This whole year I’ve heard about you from Ember and have seen texts you’ve sent Josh but … me? Just forget about me, I guess.”

“Sorry, Mon,” I played along remorsefully.

“Oh no you don’t, mister. You don’t get to call me Mon until you grovel.”

“I want to marry Ember.” The words tumbled out like Yahtzee dice.

Silence.

“Groveling over,” Monica said flatly. “Tell me everything.”

“That … is everything.” I looked around the beach that called itself my back yard. “You can’t tell her, Monica. I’m serious. Regan and Georgia said I had to call—”

“Regan and who did what? Others know?”

Shit. I’d been instructed—by Georgia nonetheless—not to say anything to Monica about her knowledge. Fail.

“I … I was just talking to them about the speech …” I trailed off.

Monica snorted into the phone. “With any luck they told you to ditch the speech all together. You know better, Cavanaugh. Come on, where’s your A-game?” She sounded like my high school football coach.

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t want it to be cliché, but I want it to be special. Ember’s—”

“Stop,” she cut me off again. “Slow your roll and just breathe.”

I took a deep breath, chuckling a little at the end of it.

“Something funny?” Monica questioned.

“So you, Regan, and Georgia all know that I want to propose to her and no one has batted an eyelash about the fact that we’ve only been together for just over a year, and that includes a long … break.” I winced as I said it. Ember and I rarely, if ever, discussed the time we’d spent not together. It was a hiccup. That’s how we referred to it.

“No one’s batted an eyelash because even relative strangers can tell how in love you ar. Remember, you yourself said a thousand lifetimes.”

For as long as she lived, Monica would never let me—or Josh—forget what she called the most romantic words she’d ever heard uttered from another human’s mouth. Sometimes she’d tease Josh for not saying them himself to her, and he’d call me an * for saying it at all.

She was right, though. I hadn’t worried much about the actual time we’d been together, because it was like our souls were joined long before our bodies ever met.

“I want you to be there,” I said. “While it’ll be about me and Ember, I want all the people she loves there. I want the whole thing to be about love.”

“Of course you do!” Josh shouted from somewhere in the background.

“Am I on speakerphone?” I nearly shouted.

“Uh …” Monica stammered.

I laughed. “You guys are a piece of work.”

“Do you think you’ll be ready by the last week in August? We just booked our tickets to come out while you guys are playing in Napa.”

My palms started to sweat, but my words highlighted the truth. “I’ve been ready since I first kissed her, Monica.”

“I know you have, Bo. Just keep your cool until then. Whatever you do, do not ask her dad for permission until, like, right before you do it.”

Her suggestion took me by surprise. “Seriously?”

“My God,” she said, sounding frustrated, “the man can not keep a secret to save his life. That info will serve you well around her birthday, too. He totally blew the surprise twenty-first I’d spent a semester planning. He’s just so enthusiastic about life that he can’t contain his little self.”

I laughed at full-volume. Ember’s dad was the full-on embodiment of a peaceful, hippie dad. He was super involved, über sensitive, and I could almost picture him helping Ember get ready for prom.

“Thanks for the heads up.” That was precisely why Georgia said to call the best friend, I realized.

“Just keep your hat on for another five weeks. Do you think you can do that?” Monica’s tone was calm, which I apparently needed as my palms continued to sweat.

“Will do.”

I hung up with Monica, tossed my phone on the bed, and wiped my hands on my jeans.