I catch a glimpse of Jake’s face at the edges of the crowd and head his way.

“Jake, have you seen—What the hell are you wearing?” I squeak out with a laugh.

Bland as can be, Jake glances down the length of his body before answering. “A bunny suit.”

Rolondo, Dex, Fiona, and North are with him, and they all start to crack up.

“He looks like a pink nightmare,” North intones.

Jake raises fuzzy, pink middle finger in his direction.

I bite down on my grin. “You lost a bet, didn’t you?” And here I thought Fi was way off with her carrot worries.

Jake’s lips purse. “Yes.” He brightens a little. “Though I can’t entirely say I’m disappointed.”

I have no idea why. He really does look like a pink nightmare. All six feet two of him.

“Look,” I say, snapping out of my bunny induced daze. “I’ll give you a carrot if you tell me where Finn is.”

Jake’s smile turns smug as he nurses his beer. “Oh, I think he’ll show soon enough.”

I glare but the music stops and someone turns on a mic. There’s a small whine of feedback and then he speaks.

“I’d like to thank you all for joining Chess and I tonight.”

Slowly I turn toward the sound of Finn’s voice. But I can’t see him anywhere. The band is smiling, one of them moving behind a xylophone, of all things.

Finn keeps talking. “It means a lot to us that you could be here. And I was wondering if my pink bunny friend could help me out here.”

Everyone laughs, and looks at Jake, who is grinning like a loon. “Sure thing, asshole!” he shouts back with good cheer. Jake holds a pink arm out to me. “Ms Copperpot.”

Bemused, I take his arm and he guides me farther onto the dance floor. People part for us. And then the music begins, the kitschy pluck of a ukulele.

The music barely register before Finn steps out from behind the big live oak next to the dance floor, and he begins to sing. A laugh of pure joy rises up from me.

Most people go for the iconic Vegas Elvis with his white jumpsuit. But not Finn. He’s young Elvis, hair slicked back, neat wedge sideburns, his black leather jacket with the stiff, high collar framing his face. Finn’s blue gaze zeroes in on me as croons “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” It is such cheesy goodness that I’m laughing, even as tears leak from my eyes.

Slowly he walks my way, tossing the mic to Jake as the band takes over.

He stops before me, close enough that my skirts surround his legs, and a small smile plays on his lips. “Hey, Chester.”

I’m fairly certain I’m beaming as I look up at him. “I always knew you’d make a great young Elvis.”

His eyes crease. “You’re more stunning than Grace Kelly.”

“Sweet talker.”

Finn’s holds out his hands. “Dance with me?”

My palms slide over his. “Always.”

The band plays on, our friends singing along with enthusiasm. But I only have eyes for Finn as he takes me in his arms and we begin to sway.

“I love you, Chess,” he whispers against my cheek.

I snuggle closer. “I love you too.”

A hum of acknowledgment rumbles in his chest. “And I was wondering…”

He lets my hand go. Slowly we stop dancing, and I stare up at him with my heart in my throat. Finn’s smile wobbles, but his eyes are wide open, looking at me with that same connection we had the first time we met. Only now it’s stronger, so much stronger.

I’m hooked by that blue gaze. I’ll never tire of it. All is right with the world when I’m with him. I’m so drawn in at first, I don’t notice that he’s holding something.

But his gaze darts to his hand, and then I see it. Winking under the tree lights, is a large emerald cut diamond ring.

I don’t cry. I grin so wide it hurts my cheeks.

“Whether you wear this or not,” Finn says in a thick voice, “I will hold your hand through life. I will love you forever. But it would be an honor to be your husband—”

“Put the ring on me, Finn,” I say in a shaking rush. “I want to be your wife.”

The ring slides on cool and solid. We’re still laughing and kissing when our friends finally swoop in to congratulate us. Only then do I notice James and Jamie are here too.

Much later, when the excitement has died down, Finn and I sit on the porch swing just outside of our room. Finn holds my hand, his thumb fiddling with the diamond on my finger. “Just think,” I tell him as we rock. “I’ll soon be Chester Mannus.”

He tries admirably not to snicker. But he can’t hide his smile. “I think it’s a lovely name.” His voice grows husky. “Really, the best name I’ve ever heard.”

With a sigh, I rest my head on his shoulder. “Me too.”

Below us, people are still swaying on the dance floor. Sometimes, I think of that older couple we saw at the beach, dancing beneath the holiday lights, content to just be with each other. I see my future in them but I don’t dwell there. Now is were I live. And that, too, is surprisingly easy to do.