Page 87 of The Mr. Right Checklist

A sob breaks free, and I wrap my arms around him. “This is the most special thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“Well, sunshine, you’re a special person.”

I hug him tighter, my tears wetting his shirt as I choke out, “For someone who doesn’t believe in love, you sure do have a big heart.”

“Let’s keep that between us.”

I laugh through my tears, and there beneath the stars that now carry my parents’ names, I picture my own special-moment card—That starry night on the rooftop, when I fell truly, madly, deeply in love with my best guy friend and knew he would never be my Checklist Guy.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

FLETCH

The week after Arjun’s proposal passes with many highs, including celebrating Ruby’s pregnancy with a night out. After work, we take walks with Molly, and every night Destiny looks at her parents’ stars, and we fall into bed making love like we might never get another chance. Now it’s the night before Jimmy and Beth’s wedding, and we’re at the rehearsal dinner. The practice run is over, and we’re almost done eating, when I’m hit with the strangest realization. There’s a universal change that happens to college students the week of their final exams, when reality hits and they realize they probably should have spent more time studying and less time dicking around. Those last days before the exams turn fun-loving players and party girls into anxious nail-biters, scrambling for excuses to tell their parents about why they’re going to fail the exam, and turn serious students into laser-focused, neurotic messes. I always prided myself on being the laser-focused guy.

Until now.

As I watched my youngest brother, the ultimate party guy, practice for his big day, he wasn’t anxious at all. It’s like he’s been preparing his whole life to become Beth Peterson’s husband, and I know that’s not the case. Whereas I’ve spent a fucking decade preparing myself to be alone, and as I look at Destiny, sitting beside me, telling Beth and her sister about the proposals she’s putting together for her newest clients, my insides are churning like a gristmill.

For the second time in my life, I am completely unprepared for what lies ahead.

I never saw the end of my marriage coming. Not that I would’ve known how to go about preparing for it at the time. But I’ve known about the expiration date of my situationship, or whatever the hell this life-altering thing is between me and Destiny, since the start, and I feel like the nail-biting party guy who has pushed reality aside, telling myself I can handle the end of us and rendering myself completely unprepared.

My father taps his spoon to his wineglass, drawing everyone else’s attention, but I can’t take my eyes off Destiny. She is gorgeous in a bright red halter dress, the necklace I gave her shimmering beneath the lights. I want to soak in every second of her that I can.

She leans closer to me, whispering, “I feel you staring at me.”

“Good.” I put my hand on her thigh, giving it a squeeze. Her smile widens, deepening the adorable dimple that gets me every time.

“I think your dad is going to make a toast. We should pay attention.”

“Sorry, no can do,” I whisper, and kiss her.

My father clears his throat. Destiny blushes as we look over, and my father lifts his glass. “Nice of you two to join us.”

Everyone laughs, and I point to Destiny. “She can’t keep her lips off me.”

She gasps, eyes wide as saucers. “That’s not true!”

I force myself to keep a straight face and cock a brow. “Those weren’t your lips on mine? Okay, Gobstopper girl.” I hold my hands up in surrender and look around the table. “It was all me, folks, all me.”

More laughter erupts, and I pull her into another kiss, turning all that laughter into cheers. I hug her, and she whispers, “Ryan Fletcher, you are awful.”

“That’s not what you said in the shower this morning.” I sit back like I didn’t leave her slack-jawed, and lace our hands together, giving my attention to my father, who’s grinning approvingly. “Sorry, Dad.”

“It’s all good, son.” My father looks around the table. “Would anyone else like to take a minute to smooch before I say a few words?”

“Hell yeah.” Jimmy pulls Beth into a kiss, and everyone laughs.

When the chatter quiets, my father’s expression turns thoughtful. “People say babies aren’t born with personalities. They’re born with temperaments, and their character and personality develop over time. I disagree. Each of our sons had very distinct personalities from the moment they were born. Chuck was demanding. He’d cry loud and often, and he had a knack for turning red, which made his mother and I act fast every time he cried. Ryan was a quiet observer. I swear he’d wait until everyone had what they needed and everything around him was calm—yes, I’m talking about Chuck—before he’d vie for our attention. Then came Jimmy, the happiest baby I’d ever seen. I think he came out of his mother’s womb laughing. There we were, two young adults raising a ruler, a sentinel, and a jester.”

Chuckles rise around us, and Destiny squeezes my hand.

“I remember thinking we were outnumbered, and by the time they were teenagers, they’d run us through the wringer.” My father looks at each of us. “And they did, to an extent. But when Chuck was acting like a bull in a china shop and Ryan was trying to rein him in, which was interesting, to say the least, Jimmy never failed to turn the tide with his wild antics and zest for humor. But when the ruler, the sentinel, and the jester were left alone, it was like putting them in a melting pot. We never knew who was going to come out.”

Everyone laughed.

“I’m proud of all of my sons and who they’ve become. Jimmy, I know you’re going to make an excellent husband and father. I can say that with complete confidence, because Beth has known how to wrangle you into submission since you were two years old.”