Page 31 of Hooked on Love

“Maybe my technique is better,” I huff, smirking.

He laughs and crouches beside my chair, adjusting my grip with patient hands. His fingers close over mine, repositioning, and I lean into his shoulder.

“There,” he says, not moving away. “Feel the difference?”

“Mm.” I don’t feel any difference. “Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“Are there whales out here today?”

He sighs, but smiles. “We’re fishing today, sweetheart.”

“I know. I’m just asking.”

He doesn’t respond.

I narrow my eyes. “You know right now, don’t you. You can feel it or smell it or whatever it is you do.”

He chuckles. “Maybe.”

I gasp, looking all around us.

“Fish,” he says firmly, nodding at my rod. “Focus.”

I try to focus, hardly.

The line drifts in the water and I watch it with the dedication of someone who is absolutely thinking about whales and not fishing at all. The boat rocks gently beneath us. A gull calls somewhere overhead. Jake settles into the chair beside me, his own rod in hand, his shoulder warm against mine.

The line goes taut, tugging with a slight weight that wasn’t there before. “I think I’ve got something,” I say, sitting up straighter.

“Reel it in,” he says calmly.

“I’m trying.” I fumble with the reel, the rod bending slightly, my heart doing an embarrassing little leap of excitement. “Oh my god, it feels heavy. What if it’s a big one? I don’t want to kill it, babe…”

“Keep going.”

I reel and reel, the weight on the line steady and…strange. It’s not fighting the way I’d expect a fish to fight. I frown. “Jake, this doesn’t feel like a fish.”

“Keep reeling.”

The line breaks the surface, and there’s no fish on the end of it.

There’s a small velvet box.

I go completely still.

The box dangles from the line, dark navy blue, water droplets rolling off the velvet. My brain takes approximately five full seconds to process what I’m looking at.

Then I turn.

Jake is on one knee on the deck, the grey September sky behind him, and he is looking at me with the most devoted expression I have ever seen. No nerves. No hesitation.

My Jake. Steady, sure, and completely, utterly mine.

“Oh my god,” I breathe.

“Peyton.” His voice is low, laced with emotion. He pulls the ring from his pocket and a simple, solitary diamond on a white gold band winks up at me. “I don’t want to spend one moment navigating this life without you.”