“She’d be strong in the face of danger. Courageous.”
“With a pretty heart?” His mouth quirked at one end.
She gave him a real smile to show she was going to be okay as long as he was. “Yes, with a pretty heart, the kind that reaches out to protect the people she loves.”
“Would she risk her own safety for a child in danger? Would she face a drunken father and fight him physically to try and keep him from driving off with the child?”
Summer saw where this was going. She shook her head in denial. “That wasn’t being heroic. That was a reaction born of panic.”
Rick’s eyes widened, then he blinked slowly. He stood, picked up the box of candy and came to sit on the couch beside her. His nearness caused her skin to tingle. “This is for you.” He held out the box.
“Thanks.” She took the gift and placed it on the coffee table.
Rick picked it up and placed it back in her lap. “Open it.”
She wasn’t in the mood for chocolates—or anything—but his tone didn’t allow for a refusal. She worked the lid off the box, which didn’t contain chocolates, after all, but held a thick set of papers.
She unfolded them and scanned the legal document. Her hands began to shake so hard she couldn’t keep it in focus. “What is this, Rick?”
He smiled. “The deed to the Camp Sunny Daze property. It’s yours.”
It couldn’t be! Her pulse swished through her ears. “Chance bought it. Investors. How...?”
“My parents and I were the investors. We only let Chance put in a dollar so he could tell your parents he was buying it.” One side of his mouth rose again. “We didn’t want them to sell it to us out of sympathy at too much of a bargain price.”
Summer shook her head, too dazed to think coherently.
The backs of his fingers brushed her cheek. “We want you to have it as a thank-you. You deserve it.”
“For what?” The question exploded from her lips. “For...for almost getting you killed? No. No!” She thrust the papers back at him and tried to stand, but Rick’s arm slid across her waist and held her in place.
“For saving my life.” His voice was husky with emotion. He let go and fished in his pants pocket, pulling out a chain. His dog tags dangled from it, slightly bent, but still intact. He pressed the chain into her hand, holding on with both of his. “The doctor said the angle of the bullet should’ve hit my heart, but it ricocheted off something...something very hard. They found shards of green granite in the wound, Summer.” He cleared his throat, his gaze never wavering from hers. “If you want to talk the ripple effect, you need to find the true action that started the ripple. You started Fairy Princess Parties to empower girls. You taught them about their pretty hearts and how to earn their wands. I was given one of your wands, and it blocked a bullet from hitting my heart. It saved my life. You saved my life.”
With a trembling finger, Summer caught the single tear as it left the corner of Rick’s eye. “Oh, Rick...”
He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. “If you believe that everything happens for a reason, you’re the reason I’m sitting here today. I think it’s a sign we’re meant to be together.”
Summer’s heart swelled with joy until she thought it would rupture. “I love you so much.” The words came out as a whisper, although she felt like shouting.
“I love you, too.” His hand caressed her cheek, then moved into her hair, pulling her face close to his until their mouths touched. He kissed her long and deep, and she responded with the fervor his lips were deserving of.
She leaned her head back to look him in the eye. “I get you and the camp, too? You’re not moving back to Arkansas?”
Rick chuckled. “I’m planning on sticking around here. Forever.”
Summer raised her chin and gave him an impish grin. “We’ve never even been on a date, and we’re talking about forever.”
“Would you have dinner with me tonight?” He leaned over and nibbled on her ear, sending a shiver from her head to her toes.
“I’d love to.” She sighed, delirious with joy and thankfulness.
“Then I think our forever just began.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ten months later
RICK CLOSED THE DOOR of the dishwasher and hit the start button for the—he counted—fifth time that