I step behind her on the first rung. "Sure you can. Don't look down. Just look at the goal. Top of the tree," I tell her, then pat her ass again.

She jumps slightly. "Sebastian."

I chuckle, teasing, "If you're going to stand there, you can't just expect me to look at it and not touch it."

"Sebastian," my mom scolds.

My brothers chuckle.

Georgia shakes her head and continues climbing, slowly making her way to the top.

When she gets there, I make sure my frame is tight behind hers. I instruct, "All you have to do is reach up and put it on there."

"But then I'd have to let go of the ladder," she worries.

"Yep. That's how it's done."

She winces, making a mistake by glancing down. She freaks. "Oh gosh. Oh gosh. Oh gosh. I'm going to fall!"

I tilt her chin back up. "No, you're not." I put my hand over hers with the star and move it toward the top of the tree, adding, "Almost done."

She takes another deep breath and then moves her other hand to the star, securing it tightly.

"There. You did it," I praise.

My family claps.

She laughs, but nervousness still coats her expression. "Okay. Can I get down now?"

"Sure. But the same rules apply. Don't look down," I order.

We slowly make it to the floor, one rung at a time.

She beams when we step away from the ladder, gazing up and declaring, "I did it!"

"Yes, you did," I say and then point up at the perfectly straight star.

"Point for me," she declares, and everyone laughs.

I lean closer to her, studying her face until she shifts on her feet. I inquire, "Are you ready to get out of here?"

She arches her eyebrows. "Where are we going?"

My chest tightens. "I need to show you where I think we should get married."

There's the perfect spot on the ranch. When I first proposed to Molly, I wanted to marry her there, but it wasn't ritzy enough for her. She wasn't going to do anything that didn't require lots of money. I never even brought it up to the other three.

Georgia is nothing like them.

She'll love it.

What if she doesn't?

Why do I even care? I ask myself for the millionth time today.

"Sure," she replies.

I guide her to the front hall, pull out her coat, and help her in it. Then I grab her hand and steer her through the yard.

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"It's about a ten-minute walk. Figured you'd be up for it."

"That's fine," she answers.

We stroll across my parents' land, and I point out the horses, questioning, "Do you know how to ride?"

"I've only done it a few times. I wouldn't say I know how to ride well."

"You want to learn while we're here? I'll teach you," I offer.