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Chuckling, I dart my gaze around Melvin’s, needing a moment to think.
That innate need to step in and shield Lennon from trouble washed over me so quickly tonight that I’m struggling with that feeling again.
The space between us has been wide for months. I’ve seen her around town here and there, but we haven’t talked. In fact, the last time I saw her she turned around and walked in the opposite direction from me.
Yet after one conversation—albeit, it was a doozy—I’ve once again been sucked back into her orbit, and I feel the need to protect her.
Before I turn back to my brother, I glance over at the woman sitting to my right, my eyes landing on the diamond sparkling on her left ring finger in the light from above.
And that’s when it hits me.
The solution to both of our problems.
Could it be that simple?
Or is this just another asinine idea of mine that only Lennon Riley can provoke?
When I twist back to face my brother, he arches a brow at me. “You look like a few too many wheels are turning in your head.”
“There are.”
“Are you thinking about Lennon?”
“Yeah, but more about a potential solution to her problem.”
“Well, I thought we were trying to fix your work problem, but let’s hear this idea so I can tell you if it’s stupid or not.” He takes a sip of his beer. “That is my duty after all as your older brother, right?”
I release a breath. “Well, that and standing beside me as my best man.”
“Where did that come from?” I don’t even have to say anything before he figures it out. “Easton, no…”
Nodding, I feel the corner of my mouth lift. “It makes sense, though, doesn’t it?”
“No, it really doesn’t. But I have a feeling that you’ve already made up your mind.”
My brother knows me all too well. “Yeah, I have. I’m going to ask Lennon to marry me.”
Chapter 8
Lennon
A Proposal I Never Saw Coming
Nora quietly closes my bedroom door behind her as I take a seat on my bed.
“So, how are you feeling?” she asks.
After I had my fill of the brisket from Melvin’s, Nora insisted on coming back to Mom and Dad’s house with me so we could talk.
I sigh, propping my head up with my hand as I lie down. “I’m freaked out. Tired. Sad.”
“Did Adam really say he doesn’t want anything to do with you or the baby?”
I told myself I wasn’t going to cry anymore over him, but my hormones haven’t gotten the memo yet. “Yes,” I say as Nora grows blurry.
She walks over to me, taking a seat next to me on the bed. “How far along are you?”
“About seven weeks, I think.”
