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“It’s what the book called a grand gesture.”

“Wait, did you read a romance book?”

“I read a few. I have to say though, those books are a little… heated. I sincerely hope my mom hasn’t read the same ones, because, damn.”

I laughed then, long and loose and free.

When I tipped my face down again, Blake was staring at me, and that’s when I knew. I knew I’d be okay no matter what, that I was good and worthy and deserving of love. But I knew my life would be better if I got to love him, too.

So I said it back. “I love you, Blake.”

He kissed me then, long and hard and soft again, lifting me off my feet and then slipping and stumbling in the sand, just the two of us here on our island.

“Does this mean you’re going to move to Quince Valley?” I asked as he set me down once more.

He shrugged. “I was thinking about coming out this way.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Thinking about it, huh?”

Blake laughed, the dimples in his cheeks going deep. “I’ll go wherever you go, Cassandra.” He stroked my temple with his thumb. “Just maybe try not to fall into any more rivers. I don’t want to go there.”

“How about I promise I’ll say thank you next time you haul me out?”

“Deal,” Blake said, and I rose up and kissed him once more, my hand on his cheek and an overwhelming love for this man rushing through me, as strong as the Quince.

Then we lay down on the beach, my head on his chest, his heartbeat under my ear, ready together for whatever else floated our way.

21

BLAKE

The bat cracked,echoing across the bleachers, and a baseball arced high up into the August sun.

Around us—save for a couple of isolated hoots from the opposing team—the crowd groaned.

I lifted up my cap to see the ball sail over the fence at the far end of the Quince Valley Ball Field. “Well, shit.”

Cassandra cringed. “This is not looking good.”

The Greenville Mastiff hitter, who’d already lazily dropped his bat to the ground, jogged around the bases.

“He’s not even their star hitter,” Chelsea said, on Cass’s other side.

“Who’s their star hitter?” I asked.

“I don’t know, that one, I guess?” Chelsea waved her hand at the opposing team’s dugout.

I laughed, but I wasn’t paying much attention to Eli’s championship game, either. I was too distracted by the feel of Cassandra next to me. Her shoulders under my arm; her hair against my cheek. I kissed the top of her head, my heart feeling too big for my damn chest.

Cassandra sighed, sliding her hand onto my knee. “At least losing is better when I’m with my favorite person.”

“Hey,” Chelsea said, looking over accusingly.

“Forget Chelsea, I’m right here,” Jude exclaimed, turning from the bench below us.

“I wite heeya!” Jude’s son Jack, next to him, mimicked his dad, right down to the little hands on his hips.

Cassandra laughed. “Sorry. Never mind my siblings; you’re my favorite person too, Jack.”