“Is that a yes?” He worked the ring free of the box, never breaking eye contact.

“Yes.” Her answer came out in a whisper, but it was the best she could do.

He slipped the ring on.

It was a perfect fit.

As he was a perfect fit for her.

He leaned toward her—but in her peripheral vision she caught sight of a familiar orange disc whizzing close by.

Too close.

Zeke changed direction and snatched it as it skimmed the side of her head.

Seconds later, sixty pounds of black fur leaped up and grabbed it from his hand.

In the melee, Cate dived for the precious piece of paper lying between them.

“I’m so sorry again.” The teen ran over, contrition written all over his face. “Flo’s hard to control while she’s in hot pursuit.”

“I know the feeling.” Zeke waggled his eyebrows at her behind the kid’s back.

“But we’re out of here. I’m taking her down to the beach for the rest of this game. Come on, Flo.”

The dog bounded after him, mouth clamped around the Frisbee.

“Talk about bad timing.” Zeke sent the duo a disgruntled scowl.

A chuckle bubbled up inside Cate. “A sure cure for mush, though.”

“I kind of like mush.” Zeke settled back down on the blanket. “Where were we?”

“I was salvaging this.” She held up the tattered, time-worn script.

“Are you keeping it?”

“Forever.”

“I thought you weren’t the mushy type?”

“This isn’t mush. It’s love.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Oh yeah.” She tucked the sheet into the pocket of her shirt and rested her hands on his broad shoulders. “Now that the canine crew has left . . .”

He scooted closer to her, until their crossed legs were knee-to-knee, and draped his arms around her neck. “Are you ready to indulge your sweet tooth?”

“Are you thinking of that chocolate dessert?”

“No. Something much sweeter.”

“Show me.”

“My pleasure. But one question first. How long are you going to make me wait to tie the knot?”

“Depends on how big of a wedding you want.”

“Can we elope?”

She gave a soft laugh. “My sisters would never forgive me. But I don’t need anything elaborate. A simple ceremony, an elegant dinner with close family and friends . . . does that work for you?”

“How long would it take to put together?”

“Two months?”

“Sold. And you know what? That would be the perfect time for a honeymoon in Provence. The lavender fields will be in bloom—and the balmy temperatures should appeal to your warm-weather gene. Unless you prefer to come here.”

“Now that you’ve dangled Provence in front of me, this pales by comparison.”

“Shall I begin planning our honeymoon?”

“By all means—after we finish one important piece of business.” She tugged him close. “The engagement isn’t official without the kiss.”

“Then let’s take care of that formality immediately.”

“Is the coast clear?”