Page 344 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

She smiles, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "You spent the last half hour telling me about the woman you love."

A warmth settles quietly in my chest. "I suppose I did."

"And I think," she says, reaching across the counter to squeeze my hand, "she's going to treasure the man giving her that ring far more than the ring itself."

I laugh softly. "I certainly hope so."

She walks with me to the front door, holding it open as the fresh spring air drifts into the little shop. Just before I step onto the sidewalk, she calls after me. "Jamie?"

I turn.

"When she says yes..."

Not if.

When.

"...bring her back so I can meet her."

I can't help smiling. "I will."

"I'd like that."

"So would I."

Outside, Main Street looks exactly as it had an hour earlier. I wave at Sadie who is arranging fresh bread in the bakery window. A pair of children race past on bicycles, laughing as they disappear toward the park. Life in Briar Cove simply continues, blissfully unaware that tucked safely inside my jacket is the beginning of my future.

I climb into the truck but don't start the engine right away. Instead, my hand finds the small gift bag once more.

It’s still hard to believe, not that I love Annette. That part has become wonderfully certain. The remarkable part is realizing that in less than twenty-four hours, she could become my fiancée.

The thought makes me smile all over again.

Later I pull into the parking lot of Walker Rehabilitation. The receptionist looks up from her desk and smiles as I walked through the front doors.

"Back already?"

"I was hoping my parents have a minute."

"I had a feeling you might stop by today."

She disappears down the hallway before I can ask how she knew. Apparently, everyone in Briar Cove has become an expert at reading my face.

Mom appears first. She takes one look at me and smiles. "You bought the ring."

I laugh. "How do mothers always know?"

"Oh, sweetheart." She slips her arm through mine as we walk toward Dad's office. "We've known you your entire life."

Dad looks up from his desk as we stepped inside. His eyes moved from my face to the inside pocket of my jacket before a slow smile spreads across his own. "I'd say congratulations," he said, standing to greet me, "but I have a feeling the congratulations are a day early."

"I hope so."

"I think hope has very little to do with it."

***

For a few moments, the three of us simply stand together. No speeches seemed necessary. They already knew. Not just what I was planning to do. Why.