Travis

One year later

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“This came for you in the mail,” I say, carrying a thick envelope into the living room. I’m about to hand it to Hannah when my eye catches on the TV screen, and I scowl. “Oh, come on, can we please turn this off?”

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It’s Dr. Lovin’ Boat. Usually Hannah watches it with her friends, but they were tied up tonight. I was at band practice, but I left as soon as I could, because I’d decided tonight is the night. It has to be.

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Hannah moved in six months ago, and I’m grateful every day that she agreed to join us. I even bought a tiara for Thea Threadsalot to thank her for making the move too, something that sent both Hannah and Ollie into peals of laughter.

 

It’s a lot more chaotic around here these days, from the constantly escaping mini turtle, Leonardo, that Hannah got Ollie for his birthday to the Big Catch Brewing staffers who are always popping in for advice. Then there’s the whole Silver Star debacle, which has been so full of high and lows it could give a person whiplash, followed by the more recent chaos caused by Dr. Lovin’ Boat and the reporters who are once again interested in me, my band, and my love life. (On the show, they refer to me as No Comment, my “catchphrase.”)

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“We have to keep an eye on the enemy,” she insists, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “And it’s great, Travis. I swear, Lilah is the most hated woman in America. Even little old ladies despise her. Seriously. I talked to one in line at the store today. It wasn’t even one of the little old ladies we know. This might be my favorite show to have ever aired.”

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She’s not wrong. I’ve seen the headlines. Lilah has even called me to complain about her portrayal on the show, as if I might actually care. I assume she’ll figure out a way to spin it in her favor, especially since she told me “confidentially” that she “won” Dr. Lovin’ Boat’s heart, but again, I don’t care.

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All I care about is that my family is together. Ollie and Hannah both under this roof. I want to keep it that way. Hannah has mentioned she thinks Ollie would make a pretty excellent brother, and it just so happens I think so too. I’d love nothing better than to have a little redheaded girl who’s as stubbornly bighearted as her mother.

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Hannah reaches idly for the envelope, but I pull it out of reach.

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“I’m going to get you a drink first, and we’re definitely turning off the show.”

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She glances away from the screen to meet my gaze. “Why? Is it, like, medical test results? Or an award for being awesome?”

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I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the racing of my heart. “I don’t read your mail, Hannah.”

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She smiles at me. “You really miss out. Last week, I was told we were going to win a Caribbean vacation. All I had to do was give them our Social Security numbers. I’m sure we’ll be getting those cruise tickets any day now.”

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“Very funny,” I say as I head for the kitchen.

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I grab the growler of ginger beer from the refrigerator, take out two glasses, and return to the living room with the letter and the drinks. I set the drinks down on a side table a good distance from the couch.

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The TV’s already off, and Hannah’s looking up at me with mischief in her eyes. “You’re really bad at being mysterious,” she says, “but I look forward to seeing where you’re going with this.”

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I smile. “Open the letter, Hannah.”

I hand it to her, leaning in to give her a soft kiss. She lifts the envelope to her ear, shaking it while she purses her lips in thought. Then she gives up and runs her finger under the seam, her eyes on me.

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When she finally pulls the envelope open, rainbow glitter explodes everywhere, all over both of us, and she erupts into delighted laughter.

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“You got me!” she says. Then she reaches for me and pulls me close. “And I’m going to get you.”

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“You think I’d object to that?” I ask, laughing, even as she nuzzles her glitter-covered face against me.

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I stoop down to kiss her, getting so lost in it for a moment that I forget about the rest of my plan for tonight, but the weight in my pocket reminds me.

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Pulling back, I smile at her. “You didn’t even look inside the envelope.”

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“Am I going to find more glitter?”

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“Of course.”

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She sifts through the contents of the envelope, spilling even more glitter all over her lap, and then pulls out the tickets inside with a look of incredulity. “You want to go to the Ships Ahoy Museum?”

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“Absolutely not,” I say, laughing. “But I got invited to cut a ribbon on their new Dr. Lovin’ Boat display. I knew you’d skip it for my sake, but it would devastate you. So we’re doing it, and then we’re going to spend the weekend at my sister’s place in New York City. The tickets are open-ended, so we’ll go whenever you can get off work.”

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She grins at me, but I nod to the envelope.

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“You’re not done,” I say.

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She pulls out the folded note I know is in there, and I tug the small box out of my pocket, my heart hammering, and get down on one knee, flipping open the top.

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“Oh my God,” she says, her voice shaking as she drops the envelope and the note, scattering glitter everywhere. “Oh my God, really?”

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I laugh, because I’m flooded with a feeling of certainty and happiness. She’s going to say yes. I didn’t really think it would be a no, but the possibility was so awful I couldn’t stand it.

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Her gaze falls on the ring—an emerald the color of her eyes surrounded by small diamonds.

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“I love you, Hannah Moroney. You’re the most stubborn—”

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She laughs.

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“—bighearted and inspiring woman I’ve ever met, and you make every day an adventure for Ollie and for me. You’re the one who made us a family. Will you do me the honor of making it official and becoming my wife?”

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There are tears pooling in her eyes as she drops down off the couch and practically tackles me to the floor, climbing into my lap. “Yes, Ships Junior. One thousand times yes.”

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“Oh, thank goodness,” I say, and then I carry her into our room. Within seconds, the black sheets covered in rainbow glitter, and it looks like we’re gliding through the constellations. Which makes sense, because the love I feel for this difficult, gorgeous, irrepressible woman is powerful enough to make miracles happen.

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“Travis,” she says, kissing my jaw and then my mouth. “I want to spend the rest of my life dancing along the line between control and chaos with you.”

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“Oh, Mrs. Ships,” I say with a laugh, “we’ve already landed firmly on the side of chaos.”

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And you know what? I don’t mind at all.'

 

Liam and Briar's story, Best Kind of Trouble, releases in January!!! Preorder now:

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