“That’s Valentine’s Day weekend,” John said.

“I know. Not so romantic, to spend it with a bunch of sweaty high school wrestlers. But I thought it was important.” To you. To us.

“This is . . . wonderful. Thank you, honey.” He got up to kiss me. “You’ve thought of everything.”

Not everything. My stomach sank even as his lips warmed mine. I’d been so eager to get this right, to get him right, the way he “got” me. He deserved that. “Is something wrong?”

He nodded toward the gift I’d set aside. “You haven’t opened your present yet.”

My fingers traced the lines of the package. “What is it?”

“Open it.”

I fumbled with tape. Ripped the paper. It was a photo, framed. A selfie of the two of us together, standing on the Carolina Beach boardwalk, taken on that first night. I’d been laughing too hard to pose, my hair blowing in my face, but that was all right because we both looked so happy, John slightly stunned, me, almost smug. His arm—the one that wasn’t holding the phone—was around me. Behind us, the Ferris wheel lit up the sky like stars.

Tears pricked my eyes. “It’s beautiful.” I half laughed, moved and embarrassed. “I was so skinny.”

“You look great.” His gaze met mine. “You always look great to me.”

My heart melted. “Oh, John. Thank you.”

His smile seemed forced. “There’s more. Turn it over.”

He’d taped an e-mail on the back. A rental confirmation for an ocean-front suite on Carolina Beach. “Oh, John.”

“It’s not Hawaii, but . . .”

“It’s perfect,” I said. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.” He cleared his throat. “I already talked to Hannah. She said she can stay with the kids that weekend.”

I scanned the e-mail, searching for the date. “Valentine’s Day weekend?”

John shrugged.

I laughed. “Can we change it?”

His gaze held mine. After a moment, the corners of his eyes crinkled. “I already paid the deposit. But I guess . . . If you want to. If the team makes the championships.”

A warm feeling settled in my chest. “They’ll make it,” I predicted.

And so, I thought, would we.

We kissed. I drew back, flushed with happiness. “You said you had something else for me?”

“Yeah.” He smiled again, more easily this time. “For you and the kids.”

He went to the kitchen. The door to the garage opened and closed. Another new car for Christmas, I thought, another dealership car I could drive for a year and give back. I arranged a properly delighted smile on my face.

I heard a wild scrabble across the kitchen floor.

“Iss a puppy!” Daisy shrieked.

It was not a puppy. It was a large, hairy dog of indeterminate breed with a red bow tied to its collar, lurching forward, straining against John’s hold on its collar. Oh God. The very last thing I needed. Something else to take care of.

DJ crawled out of his box.