Cheering was what broke the kiss with a shocked pop. Whooping, whistling and clapping came from beside us, our surprised faces swiveling to the entirety of the Bennet clan, Tess’s dad, Ivy under Dean’s massive arm, everyone watching us with watery eyes and flushed cheeks. Blushing, we turned to them, though she was still tucked into my side. I couldn’t let her go, didn’t want a millimeter between us. Tess laughed, leaning into me, the weight of her hand on my chest like an anchor, tethering me to the earth as I took in the happy faces of those who loved us.

When I reached the end of the line, I realized with no small amount of shock that Natalie stood at the edge of the brood, and a photographer stood next to her. I couldn’t see the girl’s face though—her camera was pointed at us, shutter flashing.

Tess saw her too and sucked in a breath. “Is that—”

“I forgot she was coming the second I saw you. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Well,” she said, straightening her spine, “let’s go see if we’ve got a shot.”

Before we could talk to Natalie, we were rushed by our family and friends. Mom was crying and blubbering and taking turns holding our faces and hugging us. Dad just smiled proudly from the back of the crowd, his eyes deep with emotion and hands in his pockets. My brothers and sister making jokes and laughing and hugging and clapping shoulders, as was our way. Tess hugging her dad, kissing the top of his head. His grip was iron, his smile sideways, his blessing plain.

And the second I could, I laid a hand on the small of Tess’s back and nodded to Natalie.

She stood, smiling on the sidewalk, as the photographer snapped pictures of the front of the shop. When we approached, she offered a hand and a smile.

“Well, we didn’t quite expect all of this, but what a pleasant surprise,” she said, gesturing to the windows.

“I know just how you feel.” I glanced at the photographer. “I didn’t think you’d be shooting though.”

“It was too perfect not to. We haven’t filled the spot, so I was hoping we could still do the piece, if you’re interested. I know after the other day you might not want to—”

“We’ll do it,” I interrupted. “But this isn’t the installation you asked for.”

“It’s not, but this story is even better. The Bennet family comes together to save the family legacy. How Luke Bennet and Tess Monroe brought the failing flower shop back from the dead and found love somewhere along the way. I’d like to feature you, the two of you, as the center of the article. What do you think?”

I glanced down at Tess, deferring to her, sure she’d decline such a public exposure.

But to my utter shock, she smiled broadly and said, “I think it sounds brilliant.” She looked up at me, full of hope and love. “What do you think?”