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CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

I didn’t think I’d be in the mood for a block party, or a beach party, or whatever this madness is, but I’m quickly swept up in it. The music blaring from the speaker at the LCFD party is good. The firefighters are friendly, filling my hands full of a plate of food and a cold beer as soon as I arrive.

“Nice work,” one says with a tilt to his chin. I know he’s talking about the garage fire.

I’m enjoying my beer and watching Brock and Avery walking along the edge of the water, hand in hand, when another member of LCFD stops next to me, “Watch out, the florist is glaring at you. ”

“Oh, shit,” I groan, my shoulders tightening. I knew I’d run into her sooner or later. “Where is she?”

“On your six. She’s got a bottle in her hand. And if I were you and she were looking at me like that, I’d be worried she was going to crack it over my head.”

“Thanks for the warning. For some crazy reason, she thinks I’m scaring her customers off.”

He chuckles and glances at her again. “Maybe she’s just looking for angry sex.”

I almost snort my beer onto my shoes. “She’d be a handful. But the last thing I need in my life right now is a crazy woman in my bed.”

He’s about to open his mouth when his eyes suddenly dart toward the sky. “Oh, man! There it is.”

I know exactly what he’s talking about—The little single engine plane that’s flying into view. As it swings around into a path that lines it up with the shore, the banner that’s floating behind it comes into view.

With a gut full of unnecessary nerves, I watch it move across the sky. When I scan the horizon for my sister, Brock’s turned her toward the sunset and is directing her to look up at the plane.

The words on the banner are clear and bold against the evening sky. MARRY ME, AVERY.

I know the instant she reads it. Her hands fly to her mouth and she jumps up and down before launching herself on Brock.

My throat gets thick with emotion as I watch him possessively kiss her.

Fuck. My baby sister is getting engaged. I never pictured it like this. It was hard to imagine life beyond all those hard years. Hell, I didn’t even know if I’d be a part of her life anymore. When Brock told me his intentions, I got emotional as hell.

After lowering Avery down, Brock drops down to one knee on the sand, taking her hand in his. The diamond ring catches the light as he slides it on her finger. She’s crying. Laughing. Saying something I can’t hear, but wish I could.

I sit my plate and beer down on a folding table, hoping I can be one of the first to congratulate them. When I turn around, I step right on someone’s foot.

A high-pitched voice blurts, “Ouch!”

“Oh, damn, sorry?—”

When I realize it's Elena, I freeze. But she’s not looking at me. She’s mesmerized clutching her hand over her heart. Her lashes are covered in tears. She’s biting her lower lip. Her pretty teeth are pinching hard into the deep red plumpness. In a husky voice, she says, “Madre de Dios! So beautiful. Look at them!” Fanning herself, her eyes drift to me. Then she realizes it’s me she’s talking to.

That dreamy look disappears faster than a streak of lightning. Dagger-throwing slits replace former eyes of a romantic. “You! Of course it would be you, stomping on my toes with your stupid Sasquatch feet.”

This makes me laugh, hard.

God, she’s fucking adorable when she’s mad. All fire and flashing energy. Pouty, kissable lips, heaving breasts. I just want to fist that ponytail and kiss that anger right off her fucking lips.

My laugh only does one thing, pisses her off more. We’re about to hit the danger zone. Which I admit, has piqued my morbid curiosity.

Fuming, she glares at me with her gaze sizzling and her jaw clenched .

Shrugging, a slow grin curves my mouth. “I’m a big guy, I’m supposed to have big feet.”

“Obviously, those boats are not a representation of the size of your intelligence because you wouldn’t be laughing in my face if you had any sense.”

Amused, I ask, “Oh, why’s that?”

She lifts her chin and tries to cut me down with a death glare. “Because no one messes with Elena Merendez. I don’t stand for it.”

I try to suppress my deepening grin, but fail.

I have no doubt that Elena is hell on wheels. I just can’t contain the pure enjoyment riling her up gives me. I’ve never been one to poke the tiger, but I’ve also never met Elena. “We’ll just see about that.”

She’s about to tear into me when we’re both swept up in the crowd. Nearly everyone on the beach rushes, cheering and screaming, toward Brock and Avery. That’s the last time I see her. But she’s right. She knows where to find me. And I also know where to find her.