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The next part of the program moved quickly as four different recipients of Ballentine grants took five minutes to explain how they’d used the money and how grateful they were for our organization. Finally, Mr. Ballentine was back with a short—thank goodness—plea to all the donors, reminding them that the organization was wholly donor-supported and blah blah blah.
I glanced around, trying to be subtle. Nearly everyone at the tables I could see without being obvious was reaching for an envelope in the middle of the table or already writing on one. I let out a breath. Maybe this was going to be a success after all.
More than one person had stopped to talk to me about the food, and they’d been enamored to know that Season’s Bounty was focused on local, sustainable fare. One more checkmark. Hopefully, Jackson and his wife, Paige, would see a bump in their own business from the event.
Megan squeezed my hand. “Stop worrying.”
I turned to look at her. Everything in me relaxed. She was a soothing anchor.
“I know God’s got this. I just can’t seem to stop double-checking.”
“What will you do with yourself, now that this is off your plate?” Her eyes sparkled in the light from the candle on the table and the fairy lights we’d strung between the balconies on the second level.
“Jackson asked if I’d agree to do the summer picnic. I said yes.”
Megan laughed. “You’ve got the event planning bug.”
“I guess. Maybe it’s just that I know I have the best possible person to help me right here.” I brought her hand up and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “You will help, right?”
“Hmm.” She gave me a sly grin. “I might have to check my calendar. Plus, I’m not sure you can afford my new rates.”
I tipped my head to the side. It seemed like as good an opening as any. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind—especially since our group of friends was all right here, pretending not to watch. But maybe, in other ways, that was what made it perfect. They’d been there for everything else—watching and pretending not to see—why break tradition?
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the thick platinum band sporting a trio of diamonds on top. “Will this work as a down payment?”
Megan’s eyes widened and her free hand flew to her mouth. “Cody…”
“Megan.” I held her gaze and squeezed the hand I held. “I love you. I don’t want to live my life without you. You make everything brighter and full of joy. Even the hard things. Will you marry me?”
“Of course, I will. I love you.” She flung herself into my arms as our friends started to clap. I glimpsed Kayla wiping her cheeks before Megan caught my face in her hands and kissed me.
“Put the ring on her finger before you drop it, man.” Austin nudged my arm with his elbow. “You’re making a spectacle of yourselves.”
Megan, blushing prettily, eased back into her seat and held out her left hand.
I slid the ring onto her finger, then kissed it.
“Congratulations, Cody. Everyone, our event planner.”
I turned and saw Mr. Ballentine grinning behind the microphone, clapping along with everyone in the building.
I stood and tugged Megan to her feet, then I pulled her close and dipped her back to seal our engagement with a proper kiss.
It might not have been what I planned, but from the crowd’s roar, everyone seemed to agree it was exactly right.
EPILOGUE
Noah
Ipushed my chair back and stood, along with the rest of the crew, clapping as Cody dipped Megan in some kind of Hollywood kiss. I chuckled a little and looked over at Jenna so I could give her an exaggerated eye roll. Show off.
She grinned and fanned her face.
“That’s one way to end a fundraising dinner.” Jenna tucked her hands in the pockets of the sparkly, wide-legged pants that she was wearing. “I bet that squeezes out at least another couple of grand from someone.”
“Probably.” I turned to study the crowd with her. Most of the guests were in the process of collecting their things and leaving. Some of the other Ballentine employees were moving around the tables and picking up the pledge envelopes before they had a chance to wander off in the wrong hands. I’d dodged that bullet this year, thankfully. Maybe I shouldn’t find it awkward, but I always did.
“Cody, you need help with cleanup?”
