Page 116 of Good Directions

“Squeeee! And we can drink it? Really?”

“Sure can. Milo and Brandt assure me it’s ready for consumption.”

Sawyer’s eyes light up like a tree on Christmas. Last year was the worst year for peaches on record since the 1950s, which means we had plenty of duds when it came to fruit coming off the tree. I can sell a grade one peach to a grocer, and a grade two at a farmers’ market or at a roadside stand, but there’s technically no such thing as a grade three. Unless you’re Cary and me and use that made-up term to refer to culled fruit we feed to livestock around town. Or give my brewery-owning brother to make booze out of.

“I can’t believe we made this.”

“You made this,” I correct her, opening the bottle and pouring some into the two plastic cups. “I played no part in it.”

“It was a fun science experiment. Not as much fun as soil, but seeing it all go full circle was neat.”

Handing her a cup, I hold mine up. “To us.”

“To us.”

I take a sip, the sweet liquid flowing over my tongue, giving me an instant rush. It’s much sweeter than what I would normally drink, and probably not something I’d ever opt for again, but given the occasion, I can’t think of anything else I’d rather be having.

“It’s…interesting…” Sawyer comments, taking another sip. “It’s really sweet.”

“Not as sweet as you.”

Leaning forward, I cradle her face, capturing her lips in mine, sealing my super cheesy comment with a kiss. But not just any kiss—one that lets her know how much I mean that super cheesy comment. One that I want her to feel from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. So that she can know how much I mean this next, even cheesier comment.

“I want to taste it on your lips forever.”

“Forever, huh?”

Here goes nothing…

“Yeah, Sawyer. Forever.”

I pull back, breaking away from her just enough, while still holding her gaze. My heart stops for a split second, then jackhammers back to life, like the horses exploding out of the gate at Churchill Downs. My head is spinning and my stomach is debating putting up a fight, yet somehow, I’ve never been more steady. Never been more sure of anything in my life.

“Sawyer, this is one of those moments that a man should probably know what to say. Truth be told, I’ve rehearsed it in my head a hundred times and it sounded perfect each and every one of those times, but fuck if I remember a single one of the things I was going to say now that I’m here. All I know is this—I love you. I can’t imagine my life without you. You’re my partner, in every sense of the word. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and you trusting me with your heart has been the greatest honor of my life.”

My voice catches, my emotions taking over. Sawyer’s eyes turn glassy, her bottom lip quivering, making my insides melt.

“I only hope to be the same in return. That you’ll continue to trust me with your heart, and with your life.” I push up to one knee, digging into my pocket for the ring I stashed there. “Sawyer Brown, be my partner, my better half. Marry me?”

Choking out a sob, Sawyer nods, hands flying to her face. Or, at least I think she nods. It’s hard to tell with the tears streaming down her face.

“Is that a yes?”

“O-of course!”

Lunging at me, Sawyer nearly knocks over the bucket with the open bottle of wine. I catch her in time, saving the both of us—and the blanket—from being soaked. Not that a wine-soaked blanket would be the end of the world. Not when my fiancée is in my arms.

My fiancée.

I like the sound of that. At least until I get to call her my wife.

Slipping the ring on her finger, I kiss her slowly, savoring her sweet taste mixed in with the lingering hint of the peach wine. It goes straight to my head, making me dizzy, like I threw back the whole bottle. But Sawyer is better than any drug out there.

“You are the best thing I never had planned, Anton Hayes,” she says, settling into my lap.

Drawing her into me, I tuck that wild strand of hair back, loving it more now than I ever have, already picturing it years from now as we grow old together.

“Same, Sawyer Brown. I kicked myself for letting you drive away from my peach stand that day without getting your name, but I told myself that it was fine, because it seemed like you didn’t really like me anyway.”

“I didn’t,” she giggles, the sound fizzing through me like champagne bubbles.

“But then you walked into my lab, bossed me around, and that was that.”

“As far as I’m concerned, it all comes down to one thing.”

“Just one?” I raise an eyebrow, curious as to where her brain is going.

She nods, her own impish smile taking hold. That’s when I know it’s going to be good.

“Thank God for good directions…