“Anything else? In the truck?”

“Nope. Sorry.” She looks anguished, like this was all she could do.

“That’s okay. This quilt is special to you, so that’s a big step.”

She smiles, relieved. “It is! We could put it on the end of your bed.”

“Our bed. Good idea.”

She slumps again. “Our bed. I’m such a… flibbertigibbet.”

“There’s that British TV talking again,” I laugh. “It’s okay. Be as flibberty as you want.”

She curls into me. I kiss the top of her head and hold her close to me. She’s had many moments lately—that’s how I know she’s stressed.

“Thank you, Grady,” she breathes, staring at me. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. We’ll get there. But tonight, we’re going out.”

“We are?”

“Yep, I want you to stop worrying about moving or the G&G or any of it. Tonight’s about fun.”

She perks up. “Fun? Oh, Grady. That’s what I need. Is this… am I dressed okay?”

She twirls in her little summer dress, pink and soft, that moves with her. She’s worn more dresses lately, light, pretty things I can easily slip my hands under.

“You’re perfect.”

“Where are we going?” she asks as I grab my keys and wallet from the table by the door.

“It’s a surprise, but trust me, you’ll love it.”

She takes a deep breath and pushes out her usual smile. She rests her hand on her quilt, draped easily over the couch, and grabs her bag. “Okay.”

She says nothing when we pull into the driveway at Tripp Farm. We’re late, but I texted Mom and Elena with clear instructions to start without us. Marina doesn’t ask questions when we park in the crowded lot, nor does she note the familiar cars.

But at the door, she yanks me to the side. Under the soft porch light, she fidgets with her hands, looking nervous. “Grady, tell me this isn’t a proposal.”

“It’s not a proposal.”

She looks confused. “Mom’s here. Your family. Is that Wade’s truck? Are you sure?”

“Marina, tonight is not that night. Promise.”

Her tension abates in a breath.

“Not that I wouldn’t marry you,” I tack on, suddenly nervous. “I would. I will. Someday. If that’s what you want.”

“And not that I wouldn’t say yes, in a second, it’s just⁠—”

“Too much right now. I get it.”

“Exactly. I don’t need to be Strange-Tripp, not yet. I just need to be Strange. With you.”

My lips curl, holding her there. “That’s all I want, too.”

“Thank you, Grady… and just for the record, whatever it is, I love it.”

I chuckle. “How can you love it before you even see it?”

Her hands slide over my chest, and she grins coyly. “Because you always know what I need.”