He sighed. “Let’s get this over with. Yes, the banner spelled the names wrong, but at least it was both of you and not just Eddie, because if had just been him, we would never have heard the end of it. And because it was a rush job they had to use the materials available and something had to go, so they took out the double letters. What do they really do anyway, right?”

“Right.” I smiled, because he was being silly and we both knew it. “So what you’re telling me is . . .” I hesitated, because I couldn’t quite believe in the reality of it. “The house is done?”

“Top to bottom.” He squared his shoulders and stuck his chest out proudly. “Left to right, front to back. All those night meetings I’ve had the last couple of months? They were secret construction meetings. I’ve been helping out buddies and buddies of buddies for years and it was time to call in those favors and get this done. You wouldn’t believe how complicated it got to keep you out of the loop.”

He kissed the tip of my nose. “It’s a surprise, see? You’re supposed to be happy. You’re supposed to be, I don’t know, squealing with delight or something. Isn’t that what they do on those shows? See, once again you don’t watch enough TV and—”

I looked up, and my love for him must have been shining strong and bright, because he stopped talking and took my face gently in his hands.

“I love you, Minnie Hamilton,” he said softly. “This house is for you, and always has been, even when you thought you were in love with that doctor, even when you were dating Ash. And it will never be a home for me unless you’re there, too.”

We held each other close. It was a moment I wanted to last forever and—

“Get a room, you two!”

It sounded a lot like Chris, the marina’s manager. But what would he be doing in the house?

Rafe held me a little tighter. “Ignore him. He’ll go away soon.”

“Niswander, get her in here. The food’s getting cold and the beer’s getting warm.”

Definitely Chris. I pulled away, puzzled. “Rafe, what’s going on?”

“Oh, you know. Not much.” He took my hand. “Let’s go in. I need to check on that beer.”

Inside, we passed through the living room and the dining room with its now-finished wraparound bookcases and into the kitchen, which was full of fast-moving people wearing black pants and white coats, people from a different kitchen. A commercial kitchen. The Three Seasons kitchen. Only today they were here, whipping up loaded nachos and pizza and slicing sandwiches into bite-sized pieces. Harvey and his minions were chopping and cooking, and Kristen was standing to the side, observing, directing, and correcting.