Texting With the Enemy (Digital Dating #1) - Marika Ray Page 0,61

was a claim, a decision, and a promise, and it was equal parts tender and desperate. I wanted her, but not just in my arms and hopefully one day in my bed. I wanted her at my side, in my life.

“I love you, El,” I told her, breaking the kiss. “So much I’m not sure what to do about it.”

“Just kiss me some more,” she suggested, “and we’ll go from there.”

The crowd around us had broken into wild applause, and I began to be conscious of the fact that we were still in the midst of a very public spectacle. I thought I’d had just about enough of being the center of attention, but when I finally got to my feet, keeping El’s hand tucked tightly in mine, everyone was staring directly at us.

Mom, Robin, Dalton, Lincoln, Chad, and Ashley were working their way through the crowd, pouring sparkling wine for everyone, and there were at least a hundred plastic flutes raised in our direction. Finally, Mom approached the stage with two full flutes for us. We accepted them and together with half of Solano Creek, we raised our glasses high.

Then an older man with a very large belly covered in a Hawaiian shirt approached the stage. “Don’t mean to interrupt,” he said, climbing up and taking the mannequin into his arms gently. “Just coming to get Dolly here.” He looked into the mannequin’s face. “Come on, honey. You were wonderful.” He stepped back down and disappeared into the crowd.

“Thanks, Frank,” Ashley called out.

That was very weird. I shook my head, moving on.

“To you,” I told El.

“To you,” she countered.

“To you!” Someone in the crowd called out, and it was echoed all around.

“Guess I’ll have to get to work on the next son,” Mom said to Lincoln as they stood in front of the stage. “Now that Boston’s all matched up.”

A confused and slightly worried look crossed Lincoln’s face as he held his glass up to us.

I smiled at El, and we each drank, and so did everyone around us. The toast turned into a celebration, and after I’d offered our fans a final bow and El did a little curtsy, we stepped off the stage. The band had been standing to one side, looking slightly annoyed at having their gear commandeered for my little performance.

“You done there, Romeo?” the lead singer asked me.

I looked at El, who was grinning ear to ear and gripping my hand so tightly I wasn’t sure if I might lose a finger. It would be worth it. “Got the girl,” I told him. “Nothing left to do.”

His grumpy face softened a bit as he looked between us, and then he leaned into El and said, “If you get tired of this one—”

“I’ll just stop you there,” she interrupted.

“Fine.” He straightened. “Got any requests?”

She nodded. “Can you play ‘Romeo and Juliet’?”

“Dire Straits?” the guy asked.

“That’s the one,” she said.

As the band began to play, El pulled me out to a spot in front of the stage, and I took her in my arms. I worried a bit that I might die of heat stroke, since I was still wearing the pig costume and was pretty much swamped inside it. But there wasn’t much that could bother me at that moment. I had the woman I loved in my arms, my family around me, and the glorious day—and hopefully many others—ahead of me.

“I love you Isabel Watson,” I told her, leaning down to kiss her again.

El melted against my body and after we’d kissed and swayed for a few moments, she said the words I knew I’d never tire of hearing from her lips.

“I love you too, Boston Cunningham.”

We danced and celebrated, and the only thing that marred the day in any way (if you didn’t count that terrible play) was the fact that I knew my dad would have liked to see me happy. He would love El, I knew, and as I held her in my arms, I made a silent promise to them both to do my best to honor the example I’d seen my parents set. I’d love her above all else, and someday I hoped our kids would strive to emulate the kind of love we knew.

Epilogue

Isabel

* * *

I straightened the frame on the wall, the one that held the online review we’d gotten in Wine and Cheese, only the most exclusive wine magazine in the valley. We’d gotten five wine glasses out of five for our proprietary blends, but only