some of the BelleCurve staff, a bunch of Seattle football players. Soon enough there are nearly sixty guests on the beach, playing volleyball, mingling near the fire, and snacking on appetizers. And then Desmond finally arrives.
He pulls up in his red ’58 Ford Fairlane convertible that I’ve started to call “mine,” as a joke, and I meet him at the curb. He knew I was throwing him a release party, but I didn’t tell him just how much effort I’d put into it. He was probably expecting a dozen people or less, but I couldn’t let this opportunity go by without celebrating him properly.
“Um, Mags,” he says, stepping out of his car and shutting the door behind him. His eyes are on the beachfront, but he’s walking toward me. “What did you do?”
I wrap an arm around him and grin up at his puzzled expression. “I’m throwing you the huge, outlandish party you said you didn’t want.”
He looks down at me with a playful glare. “Of course, you did. You said it was going to be a small, intimate gathering.”
“Everyone is so proud of you, and we want to celebrate.” I tug on his shirt a little, batting my eyes up at him, knowing I’ll need to do quick damage control in the form of a lot of flirtation. “Humor us. Come join your party.” I lift up on my tiptoes and press a kiss to his lips.
He kisses me back with a little growl and a squeeze of my waist. “Fine. You win.”
“Like always.”
He chuckles. “Is that right? I think I have a game I know I can win tonight if you want to try your luck.”
My body heats with his words, and I can feel a blush creeping up my neck and blasting my cheeks. Desmond hasn’t changed much when it comes to sex. If anything, he’s only become more intense now that he knows exactly what makes me react. “C’mon,” I say, tugging on his hand and trying to focus on the task at hand. “If you’re nervous, you should try the punch first.”
“Why, did you spike it?”
“Yup.”
He throws his head back in a laugh, quickly eliminating any tension he drove up with. While Desmond doesn’t mind a crowd, he’s been somewhat uneasy with all the attention from the show. His classes were already booked before the show started, but now, he’s talking about hiring on a couple more full time instructors to add more classes to the daily schedule.
We join the party, and while there are a lot of people here, it’s still a chill event. Desmond signs books for everyone, poses for some photos, but all-in-all, it’s just an excuse to get together with our friends.
Rebecca and Ryan are back in town too. It’s adorable how supportive they are with Desmond. It took me a long time to understand the dynamic of their relationship—with him and Zach’s mom, and with him and my dad. But I get it now, and I’m so happy they all have each other.
A couple hours and a lot of laughs later, the sun starts to dip in the sky. The chatter is loud, the music is upbeat, and everyone’s had plenty to eat. Well, except for my sister who’s sitting with Zach at the fire roasting marshmallows.
I think Desmond senses the party is ending soon, because he gathers everyone near the picnic tables for a quick thank you.
“I really appreciate you all showing up like this and supporting everything we’re trying to do with the kitchen. Thanks to the cookbook, we’ve already been able to do so much this year with our growth through the hiring of new staff and dipping our toes into some new service offerings.”
Desmond takes my hand in his and squeezes. “But none of that could have been possible without this woman right here. The cookbook was her idea. She formatted the thing, pitched the book to publishers, and negotiated the deal like she’s been doing this kind of thing all her life. Which is why—” he starts with a grin aimed right at me— “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
My jaw drops. “For me?”
He nods and pulls something out of his pocket, then holds it out to me in a fist. My thoughts immediately start to think he’s proposing and I can feel my heart crashing around like a pinball in my chest. And then I realize there’s no ring box, and I laugh a little at my ridiculous thoughts. There’s no question marriage is