Her voice broke on that last word, and Jamie’s heart hammered in his chest.
“That’s my checklist, Jamie. It was never a contest, because it was always you. It only took me one night to fall for you, but it wasn’t in Amarillo.”
His brows furrowed, and she beamed at him. That beautiful smile was for him.
“It was on my couch, ten years ago. You win, Jamie. Every time.”
She stepped away from the mic and allowed Chainsaw to take his rightful place. And then the band that had been covering nothing but eighties and nineties hair-band songs since the fest had begun erupted with the opening guitar solo to “I’m a Believer” by the Monkees.
Brynn inched toward the edge of the stage and sat, poised to hop down, but he could tell the stage was higher than she’d anticipated. Jamie shook his head and laughed, reaching for her, and as soon as he held her, felt the warmth of her skin against his as her arms draped around his neck, he misstepped, his foot hitting a patch of particularly slippery, beer-soaked grass, and the two of them went down not in a blaze of glory but in a puddle of mud and beer.
The crowd around them gasped, the band kept playing, and Jamie lay flat on his back, the woman he loved on top of him, and the wind, quite literally, knocked out of his lungs.
Brynn’s eyes were wide.
“Are you okay?” She lifted her body weight from his chest, and he gasped in a breath. When his lungs were filled enough for him to utter a sound, he laughed, then pulled her to him and kissed her with everything he had. They were both laughing—kissing and laughing and lying soaked on the ground while the band played on and the crowd applauded for the couple who’d been too crazy about each other to get things right for ten long years.
“Loving you is going to kill me, isn’t it?” he asked, and she tilted her head up and smiled.
“But you do still love me, right?”
It wasn’t really a question. Her voice held an air of triumph.
“Even in that shirt,” he said, “which we are tossing as soon as we get back to the hotel.”
She peeled herself from him and stood, pulling him up with her. Then he saw the Cubs shirt, wet with beer and plastered to her curves.
“Okay, you can keep it,” he said. “If you promise only to wear it wet.”
She raised a brow.
“You’re impossible,” she said.
“Impossible not to be madly in love with me?”
She laughed.
“I want you to catch me, Jamie. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you.”
“And I want you to catch me right back,” he said, taking off his Sox cap and placing it on her head. “Much better. Wait. How’d you get that band to let you take over their set?”
She shrugged. “They’re a hair-band cover band. They love a good love story as much as the next person, and I begged them to let me fight for my happy ending.”
He leaned his forehead against hers, as if touching her could reassure him that this was all real.
“Because I’m your happy ending?”
She smoothed her hands over the scruff on his jaw and smiled, the look sweet and soft.
“You are,” she said, and pressed her lips to his again.
…
Jeremy waggled his brows at them as they strolled up to the tent.
“Hey, Jer,” Brynn said.
“Nicely played, Chandler. And by the way, my sister is expecting a call from you,” he told her, and she laughed. “And no offense, but you two look disgusting.”
“Can’t argue with you there,” she said. “And I can’t believe you two didn’t tell me you actually had a tent here. I thought this trip was like a vacation or something.” She looked at Jamie, and he grinned sheepishly.
He stepped behind the makeshift bar of the Kingston Ale House tent, and when Brynn tried to follow him, he held up his hand to stop her.
“You’re not serious, are you?” she asked, but Jamie’s expression was impassive. What was he doing?
“We need to run back to the hotel and shower, but first, Miss Chandler, I’m going to need your glasses,” he said.
Brynn crossed her arms and gave him a pointed look, but she couldn’t help that the corners of her mouth turned up. Whatever was going on, whatever else he’d kept from her, it felt more like a surprise than any kind of lie, so she played along.
She leaned over the bar.
“Why don’t you take them, then?” she said.
He did, but not before stealing another kiss, and Jeremy groaned.
“Okay, like I’m all happy you two finally got your heads out of your asses, but if I have to watch this all day…”
Jamie laughed. “Dude, I’m paying you to be here.”
“You’re paying me to sell your new brew.”
“New brew?” Brynn asked. With her glasses in Jamie’s hands she was reliant on just her senses now, and her sense of smell was begging for anything other than what was emanating from her clothing at the moment.