Page 116 of The Check Down
When her phone buzzes in the cupholder, she releases me and picks it up. And as she checks the message, a slow smile stretches across her face.
“Paige said they made it to Aruba with all their luggage, and the boxes they had shipped were waiting at the resort.”
I hum. “Bet she’s relieved.”
She nods and taps away on her phone for several minutes, no doubt reassuring her friend that her beach wedding will go off without a hitch. Brynn and I will join them after our extended weekend with my family, then we’ll spend a couple of days sightseeing and enjoying paradise before Paige and Beau tie the knot next Saturday.
Speaking of knots, the one in my gut expands as we get closer.
Her phone buzzes again. I assume it’s more from Paige until she groans. “Your brother.”
I don’t even need to ask which one. Sometimes I regret sharing her contact with Tucker.
“What now?” I can’t keep the annoyance out of my voice. He knows what I’m about to do.
“It says ‘Howdy, new neighbor.’” Brows drawn together, she frowns at the screen, then at me.
That fucker. I want to snatch up my phone to chew his ass, but I let it go. Our arrival was delayed by certain necessary bedroom and shower distractions, after all. So, he thinks I’ve already done it, so he’s earned himself a pardon on the ass-chewing. But as she studies the phone again, my stomach drops. Shit, she’s probably gearing up to probe deeper about his text.
If my little brother unwittingly ruined the surprise, the ass-chewing is back on.
The air in my lungs escapes when she’s distracted by another buzz. “And now he’s asking what time the handprint ceremony is tomorrow, like he can’t scroll back a few messages and find out. Or check the family text. Your mom has been texting daily reminders.”
As soon as Tuck got hold of Brynn’s number, he added her to the Lacey Fam group text.
Shit. Now I want to give my dumbass little brother a bone-crushing hug.
I blink back the burn and clear my throat. “Why the hell is he so worried about the time? He’ll be downtown with us all morning, right?”
She shakes her head and waves her phone. “He has some photographer scheduled to take professional shots for the gym’s website and social media.” She frowns at my window and points to the road that leads to my parents’ place. “Uh, you missed the turn.”
“I want to show you something first.” Heart in my throat, I continue past the turnoff that leads to Shaw’s cabin. Aquarter mile later, I take a left on a two-track dirt road that will soon be leveled and paved.
“Griff…” She glances at me, then turns back to her window. “Where are we going?”
“We’re almost there.”
I follow the winding path through a wooded area crowded with tall pines and flowering dogwoods and post oaks. Another curve to the left, and we crest a small knoll. At the top, I park the truck and take her in.
Her mouth drops at the view through the windshield. The rise we’re on dips into a large meadow that stretches for acres to the edge of a small, still pond.
When she turns to me, eyes full of wonder, I tip my chin. “Walk with me?”
The shine of her smile rivals that of the May sun that greets us as we hop out. I grab the cardboard tube from its hiding spot behind the back seat, tuck it under my arm, and join her at the front of the truck, hand outstretched.
“This place is beautiful.” She slips her hand into mine, and we amble through the calf-high grass. She glances at the tube but doesn’t question me about it as we walk.
“This is the edge of my parents’ land.” I point at the trees on the opposite side of the pond. “Shaw’s cabin is about an eight-minute walk that way. These woods were our playground growing up. Spent hours fishing and swimming in that pond.”
I stop in the middle of the clearing and face the woman that I’ll spend the rest of my days with. When I hand her the tube, she raises her brows. She’s quiet as she opens the end and tips it on its side until the rolled-up sheets slide out. Taking the tube and papers from her, I unroll the largest one and hold it up.
“The front door will be right about here, where we’re standing.”
She coughs a sob and covers her mouth. “Griffin.”
“I asked for a huge front porch and an office that overlooks the pond where you can write all the dragon stories your heart desires. If there’s anything you don’t like about the plan, though, the architect will make adjustments.”
Eyes teary, she examines the details on the blueprint. “It looks perfect.”