Luke puts his hands up to signal silence. Sal’s heart flips in her chest as he pins his eyes to hers. The insides of her stomach are tidal.
Luke’s strong voice fills the night air. He glances at Sal, giving her a heartfelt look. “I wanna say happy birthday to the most beautiful woman in the world. You are a gift to me, to your friends and family, and I thank you for lettin’ me be in your life.” His throat bobs. Tears glitter in his eyes, reflected by the firelight. He raises his beer and others follow suit. “I love you, Sal. I always will.”
Around her, hushed sniffles. The clearing of throats.
“Thank you,” Sal whispers, but words aren’t enough to convey the emotion she’s feeling. Her heart’s so big, Sal feels as if she will burst.
Love.
It’s love.
Sal catches Luke’s handsome profile out of the corner of her eye and smiles soft.
She loves him.
Tonight. She’ll tell him tonight.
Two hours later, the last of the guests have gone and the bonfire’s stopped raging. Sal, lounging in a rocking chair, watches as Luke says goodbye to Jace and Emmy Lou. The air is scented with fire. Moonlight skitters across the slowly swaying sweetgrass.
Sal runs a nail up along the side of her temple. All evening, she’s tried to ignore the hammering in her temple.
Not a migraine. Not now. Not when the night’s been so perfect.
At the sound of Luke’s boot steps, Sal quickly pulls her hand away from her temple before he can see and worry.
“The thing to do now,” she says, “is sleep here.”
He chuckles. “Outside?”
“Yep.” She smiles. “You can be my pillow.”
“You want a drink? Wine?”
“Whiskey.” The words are out of her mouth like habit.
Luke smiles. “That’s my girl,” he says before coming up with a bottle of Maker’s Mark. He pours them each a finger and settles into a chair across from Sal. He shoots his whiskey back, drops his cup to the grass, pulls his guitar into his hands. Almost unconsciously, he strums a tune.
Sal props her chin in her palm. “You sound ready for the stage.”
Looking hangdog, Luke shakes his head. “I ain’t so sure about that.”
His face clouds. Their performance is in two weeks. He’s got to be nervous. Hell, Sal’s nervous for him. But she knows they’ll knock it out of the park. Luke, on the other hand, isn’t such an easy believer.
Luke inclines his head. “What’d you think? About tonight?”
“I loved it. It was a perfect day. It really was.” Sal smiles slightly. “And I decided something.”
“What’s that?”
“I decided I need to stop obsessing over this memory thing. It’ll come to me when it comes. And if it doesn’t ... I have you.”
“You do. Always.”
Overcome with emotion, he dips his head. Still picking his guitar, he clears his throat thickly. Sal frowns at the tone in his voice. His earlier jovial mood’s shifted. Quiet. Intense. Serious.
“Listen. Darlin’, there’s somethin’ we oughta talk about. Somethin’ you gotta know—”
Before he can go any further, Sal cuts him off with a gasp.