James

I kind of hate the contract signing.

Wish we’d done the date first, then this. Feels too much like a scene from one of those movies where the princess has to marry the evil dragon king to save her realm—only, instead of her father leading her to the altar like a sacrifice, it’s a bored-ass lawyer leading her through the contract clause by clause, while I sit like a dope, wishing I could hold her hand.

Diana looks scared—or maybe she’s just concentrating. She dressed up for the occasion: a pristine white dress with red buttons down the front, white stockings, red shoes. She looks amazing, and I didn’t even get the chance to tell her. Tom scooped me up on the way to the conference room, and he’s been on me like glue ever since. Not sure what he thinks I’m going to do, but he glowers at me every time I so much as reach for a glass of water.

She looks up at me right before she signs: a long, probing stare, like she’s taking my measure. I meet her gaze, afraid she might change her mind if I blink.

She grips her pen tight. I can see how white her knuckles are.

“All right,” she whispers, and it’s done. Feels like there should be more to it, some kind of ceremony—a wax seal, maybe, or a solemn oath—but her lawyer just snaps the folder shut on the contracts and pushes away from the table.

“Dr. Ashby; Miss Carson.” He nods. “I’ll messenger over your copies this afternoon.”

So that’s that?

Tom shoots me one more death glare on his way out the door. I ignore him. There isn’t much time before the wedding, and most of that’ll be eaten up with planning. This is my one chance to court her, and I’m not letting it go to waste.

“Ever been to Bird Kingdom?”

Diana shakes her head. She looks a little stunned.

“C’mon. We’re going.” I offer my arm, and she takes it. “It’ll be fun.” It occurs to me that I have no idea what her idea of fun might be, but I keep talking anyway. “There’s all kinds of birds, flying around wild and free. And they let you feed the lorikeets.”

“Lorikeets?”

Not sure if she doesn’t know what they are, or if she’s got whiplash from everything happening so fast, but I jump on that. “Yeah—they’re these...rainbow-colored parrots, with, uh, tongues....” I do a fluttery thing with my fingers. “Trichoglossus haematodus—that’s what the trichoglossus part means. Hairy tongue. Had one lick my finger, one time. It...tickled.” Shit. I’m babbling.

“I know what a lorikeet is.” Diana gives me an odd sidelong glance. “Just...sorry. Got caught up in my own head.” She stands up a little straighter, tightening her grip on my arm. “You know what? You’re right. Sounds like fun. Bird tongues and all.”

I’m hoping the birds’ll be like... a therapy dog in a hospital. Good way to break up the tension, get Diana’s mind off what we’ve just done. I want her relaxed for this, in a good frame of mind.

Seems like she’s thinking along the same lines: halfway to the aviary, she turns to me, half-smiling. “You ever go to Rice Road, back in the day?”

“You mean when they used to have that petting zoo, and you could feed the sheep, and stuff?”

She nods. “Yeah. My dad used to take me when I was little. Loved the peacocks.”

“I went with my aunt. Spent all my summers with her. She’d take me to Rice Road, Sherkston Beaches—the Falls, of course.” I grin. “Remember that one sheep they had, the big fat one, with the....” I make an asthmatic snuffling sound, like the sheep used to make when we’d feed it.

“Big Willy, I think.” She wrinkles her nose. “Or Big Sam. Big...Something. Been a while.”

“So, hey—we just found something in common.” I want to touch her—squeeze her knee, stroke her arm—but she’s driving. “How about you? Ever been down my neck of the woods?”

“Had a layover in Atlanta once. Don’t suppose that counts.”

“Nah, Atlanta—that’s a whole other beast. Me, I’m from redneck country.” I smile a little, thinking of home. Heard it’s gone downhill since I left, but Statesboro was a pretty nice place to grow up, especially for an outdoor kid. Lots of bugs to catch. Trails to explore.

“Speaking of home, what’s your family going to think? Have you told them? Are they coming to the wedding, or...?”

Ouch. Guess the subject was bound to come up sooner or later, but....

“Sorry—did I say something wrong?”

“No. No, only, I don’t have much family left.” I flatten my palms to my knees, forcing myself to stay cool. “Dad passed last year, and Mom’s been gone a long time. My aunt’ll be there, the one that took me to Rice Road, but that’s about it.”

“Sorry. About your father, I mean.” I wonder if she’s going to say anything about her own family, but she just cranes her neck to check her side mirror. Looks like we’ve arrived.

The mood lightens once we get inside. Looks like Bird Kingdom was a good choice: Diana gets right into it, snapping pictures with her phone—even pulls me in close for a selfie, which...yep. First time she’s touched me, without me reaching out first.

A big blue-purple bird struts up and rips the tassel off my shoe. That gets her laughing—another first for the day.

“Ugh! What the—? Devil pheasant!”

“Ha, ha—that’s a pigeon!”

“That is not a pigeon!” I stab my finger at it. “Yeah: I’m talking about you. Just who do you think you are?”

The bird shakes out my tassel, like a terrier with a rat. Its crest bobs and quivers.

Diana holds up her phone. There’s a picture of the same damn bird, smug as hell, chest puffed out. “See?” She taps the screen. “Victoria crowned pigeon. Totally harmless.”

“Tell that to my shoe.” I flap my hands at the bird. “Go on—shoo!” It cocks its head, unruffled.

“Hey, at least it didn’t shit on you.”

“No, but that’s supposed to be good luck. This, now—this is just vandalism.” But I’m starting to get into it too. Having fun. And we’ve got the place mostly to ourselves: never seen it this quiet before. Then again, I’ve never been on a weekday afternoon in the off-season. It’s just us and a chorus of twitters and coos, the whir of wings, water dripping on leaves. Feels like walking through an enchanted forest, straight out of a fairy tale.

I stop her at a point where two palm trees bend overhead, forming a natural arch. She raises a brow, questioning. I take a deep breath and turn to face her. “Now, this might seem sudden, but we don’t have a lot of time, and....” I reach out slow. When she doesn’t flinch away, I tuck her hair behind her ear, letting my hand linger against her cheek. “Well, you’ve never looked as lovely as you do right this second, with the dew in your hair, those blue eyes all sparkly—and there’s something I want you to have.”

Her eyes follow my hand as I reach into my breast pocket and pull out a black velvet pouch.

“This is...?”

I press it into her hand. “My great-grandmother’s.” I’m not sure why—it’s not like she’s going to choose this moment to say no, when she’s already signed the contract—but I’m getting nervous, watching her loosen the drawstring, shake the ring out into her hand. Should’ve gotten her a diamond, something modern, something—

“You...really want to give me this?” She’s turning it this way and that, watching the fire dance in the opals. “This is a family heirloom. I couldn’t—“

I squeeze her hands in mine, carefully, so she won’t drop the ring. “Listen, I know in a lot of ways, this is...wrong. Rushed. And tomorrow, we’re gonna be knee-deep in fittings and caterers and... I don’t know what all goes into a wedding, but there’s going to be lots of it, coming at us fast.” I step a little closer. “I wanted this to be right—something real, something from the heart, before we have to...y’know.”

She takes a long, shuddering breath. I swear her eyes glisten a little. “Then...then, yes. Yes. Put it on my finger.”

I slide it on slowly, almost reverently. It’s a perfect fit. Diana looks down at the ring, up at me, and this is my moment.

I lean in for a kiss.

She stiffens at first, but soon she melts into it. Her lips taste of mint gloss; her hair’s fresh and citrusy. Her arms slide around my waist, and for a moment, it all feels natural, as spontaneous as the first kiss I ever had, on the bank of my granddaddy’s pond.

The spell breaks when we pull back, but I wouldn’t say it ruins the moment. We’re both giggling, self-conscious, and there’s a high flush on her cheeks that I’m sure is reflected on mine.

“I’m glad we didn’t have to do that in front of the lawyers,” she says.

“Yeah, that could’ve been...might’ve taken some of the magic out of it.” I take her hand and we keep walking along the trail. That bird’s still following us, the little shoe-eating dickwad, but I don’t even care. I’m going to float in this bubble while I can. Not sure she’s ready for what’s coming next—I know I’m not. It’ll be good to have this to look back on, so we’ll know there’s a spark, something nice between us.

Something to look forward to.