“How did I cheat? I can’t help it if you’re predictable.”
“What?” I nearly shouted. Both sets of our parents turned to look at us. I flashed them a wide grin, then leaned in and whispered into Brody’s ear, “After we get married, and you’re sound asleep on that comfy sofa, I’m going to write on your forehead with a Sharpie.”
He tried to hold in his laugh, and a snort came out instead. Drawing away, he looked at me and smiled. Not a lazy smile, but that crooked grin that made my insides melt. “So that’s a yes, then.”
I quickly looked away because I was positive it wasn’t happiness I was seeing in his eyes. It was something deeper. Stronger. I just couldn’t pinpoint it.
“Sutton?”
“I already agreed to it, Brody.”
When he reached under the table and took my hand, squeezing it lightly, my chest tightened with a feeling I hadn’t had in a very long time.
Hope.