Page 77 of The Mr. Right Checklist

“I have the pictures you sent me.” Fletch takes out his phone.

“Great. I wanted to show them the pictures we took at the lake last weekend, too.”

“You went fishing again?” his father asked.

“Yeah, it was a good time,” Fletch says, scrolling through his photos.

“He woke me up at dawn and surprised me with the trip. It was wonderful. We caught a bunch of fish and stayed all day.” I look at his brothers and Beth. “Fletch told me all sorts of stories about the trouble y’all got into when you were younger. We saw a gorgeous sunset and then we stargazed with Molly.” It was a magical night.

Fletch caresses my shoulder with his thumb, and I can’t help wanting more nights like that.

“Fletch stargazed?” Beth asks incredulously.

“Guess miracles can happen,” Jimmy teased.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Fletch shakes his head.

“Destiny made fish and chips using the fish they caught and brought enough for all of us after basketball last Sunday,” Chuck said. “Best fish and chips I ever ate.”

“Best peach muffins, too,” Jimmy adds.

“Y’all are too sweet.”

“It sounds like a wonderful weekend,” his mother says.

“It was,” Fletch says as he scrolls through the pictures on his phone.

I lean closer, looking at the pictures. “There they are. Show them the one of you and Molly in the water. It’s one of my favorites.” As he passes the phone around the table, I say, “I love the way the sun is glittering off the water like diamonds, and Fletch looks so relaxed, holding his fishing pole in one hand and petting Molly with the other. It makes me happy.”

“That is a great picture,” Jimmy says as the phone makes its way back to Fletch.

“Which is your favorite, Ryan?” his father asks.

Fletch scrolls to a picture. “This one.” He shows me the one of me taking a selfie of us. My hair is damp and messy from a dip in the lake, and I’ve got no makeup on, but my cheeks are pink from the sun. Fletch is sitting on the blanket a few feet behind me. He’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt, and he has his arm around Molly.

“I look a mess in that one.”

“Sometimes I wonder if we’re looking at the same person. You look happy and beautiful in that picture.” He leans in and kisses me, and my heart soars as he passes the phone across the table to his father first. “You can scroll to see the others. The pictures of the tower are right after them.”

As his parents scroll through the pictures, his mother holds one up and says, “This is my favorite.” In the picture, my hair is in a ponytail, and I’m wearing what I call my bug-eye sunglasses, because they’re huge. Fletch is sitting behind me, kissing the back of my shoulder.

That is another of my favorites, too, but I keep that to myself, because it makes me emotional to think about how that tender kiss took me by surprise. It felt more intimate than a kiss on my lips and made me feel like we were a real couple.

Fletch’s mother and Beth ooh and ahh over the pictures of us, and everyone is as impressed with the tower Piper is making as I am, which pleases me to no end.

As the phone comes back to Fletch, his mother says, “It looks like your client is going to have a spectacular event. Do you have a dream proposal, Destiny?”

“Yes, sort of. I hope it’ll be something magical that comes from my forever love’s romantic heart.”

“That knocks you out of the running, Fletch,” Jimmy says. “You don’t have a romantic bone in your body.”

“Yes, he does,” I argue. “Did I not just tell you about our great day at the lake? Romance comes from more than just roses and candlelight dinners. The first time I met with a potential client, Fletch gave me a special gold pen he had made just for me with Get the Yes printed on it in pink, my favorite color. I was so nervous that evening, I thought I might be sick, and he told me how he believed in me and made me remember that there was nothing I couldn’t do. Not only that, but after the client signed on with me, Fletch sent me a special bouquet of my favorite flowers. When I signed a new client last week, he sent me flowers again.” With a note that said he heard my father cheering me on from across town. My throat thickens with the memory, and I push it away to shut Jimmy down one last time in case he still has doubts. “And he does other things, too. Sometimes when I work late, he cooks me dinner, and when Molly ate my lingerie, he replaced it. Your brother is full of romantic bones.”

Fletch gives Jimmy a smug grin.

“I’d like to hear more about Molly eating your lingerie,” Jimmy retorts.

Chuck elbows him.