“I love you, Ellie.” His voice was soft and serious. “I have never said those words to anyone before. And now that I know what it should feel like, I’m glad I didn’t, because it would have been a lie.” He looked at me the way I’d always dreamed of. “You’re everything to me. You’re the one.”
I’d smiled as my eyes filled. “I love you too. And yes—I’ll move in.”
Gianni had offered to take the photos of us down, but they made me so happy to look at. There was a new one too—our Tastemaker cover, which had us dressed in black tie with Gianni seated at a table in Etoile and me standing next to him, pouring a bottle of sparkling wine over his head. It was sexy and irreverent and fun, just like the piece inside about us, and it was fantastic publicity for Abelard.
Every time I saw those photos on the wall, I remembered him saying, ‘There’s always been an us.’ It made me shiver with joy every time—including now.
“Are you cold?” he asked me. “Want me to grab a sweater for you?”
“It’s eighty degrees, Dad. I’m fine.” I laughed and ruffled his hair. “I’m just excited. We haven’t been to the Cherry Festival together in a long time. Since we were seventeen, to be exact.”
“I know,” he said, glancing behind me at the photos. “You’ll have a better time tonight. I promise.”
“Are you finally going to kiss me in a closet?” I teased.
“I will kiss you anywhere you want.” Even though we were running late and he wanted to get out the door, he put his arms around me and pressed his lips to mine. “I love you.”
I shivered again. Hearing him say the words was always a thrill. “I love you too.”
“Come on, let’s go.” His blue eyes were bright with excitement.
If I hadn’t been so distracted, I might have seen the mischief in them.
Several hours later, I walked over to the small Etoile tent, where Felicity was grilling mini paninis with gruyere, greens, and cherry bourbon jam. I grabbed one from the tray, and she laughed. “You like them?”
“Can’t you tell? I’ve already had like five of them. They’re delicious.”
As I ate it, I slipped into the booth and dropped into a chair behind my mom, who was pouring Abelard wines into clear plastic cups. My dad was there too, talking with someone at the next booth. I’d lost Gianni somewhere, which wasn’t surprising, given the way he was determined to play every game, ride every ride, taste every food.
“Hey,” said my mom. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. But it does feel good to get off my feet.”
“I bet. Where’s Gianni?”
“No clue. I lost him somewhere between the Ferris wheel and the bounce house.”
She laughed. “Sounds like Gianni.”
“Ellie!”
I looked up and saw Winnie heading for the booth. “Hey, Win. Have you seen Gianni?”
“Yes. He’s talking to Dex over by the dunk tank. But he’s looking for you.”
With difficulty, I rose to my feet and wiped my fingers on my shorts. “I’m coming. I hope he’s ready to go. I’m beat.”
As we headed for the games area, I yawned. “Everyone said there would be an energy boost during the second trimester. Where is it?”
Winnie laughed. “I don’t know. But I don’t think Gianni is quite ready to leave yet, so I hope you get a burst of energy.”
We’d reached the dunk tank, and I saw Dex and his two little girls standing there, but no Gianni. “Hey,” I said, smiling at them. “Are you having fun?”
Dex nodded, and the girls giggled and jumped up and down. “We want to see this!” shouted Luna, the little blond one. If I remembered correctly, she would be in first grade this fall.
“Luna, shhhh!” Hallie, older by about three years, poked her sister’s shoulder. “We can’t give it away.”
“Give what away?” I asked. “And where the heck is Gianni? I thought he was—”
“He’s over there!” Luna burst out, pointing at the dunk tank.
I looked up, and my jaw dropped. There was Gianni, seated behind the blue bars on the dunk tank platform, dressed in his swim trunks and grinning madly.
“It’s your turn!” he shouted. “I figured it was time for payback.”
Bringing my hands to my face, I started to laugh. “How many throws do I get?”
“I bought you fifty,” he yelled. “Then we’re even-steven. And if you can’t dunk me in that many throws, it’s not my fault!”