Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother novel Chapter 324

**TITLE: Wrong person 324**

**Chapter 324**

:)))

It’s more than just the sight of her dress clinging to her knees or the sheen of perspiration glistening on her throat. It’s the way she radiates happiness, the way she feels secure in this moment. Even after everything we’ve been through, I can still bring her something new to brighten her day.

As she steps out, I extend a towel toward her, a simple gesture that feels monumental.

She glances at my watch, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Almost four,” I reply, my tone casual.

Her gaze sharpens, suspicion mingling with intrigue. “You’re planning something.”

I shrug, a playful smile tugging at my lips. “Maybe.”

Her laughter is a mix of skepticism and excitement, a melody that brings warmth to my chest.

Good.

Because she remains blissfully unaware that in less than an hour, she’ll be walking into the field behind the barn, where all our friends and family await her arrival.

All our people.

And the surprise I have in store.

But not yet.

For now, she’s barefoot, her cheeks flushed, and she’s licking chocolate off the corner of her lip while wild bunnies frolic around her feet. In this moment, I’ve never felt more in love with her.

Not yet.

But soon.

Very soon.

The tacos we’re devouring are a glorious mess.

Honestly, it’s absurd how chaotic they are. Spicy carne asada piled high with guacamole and those grilled onions she adores, all wrapped in paper-thin tortillas that seem to tear apart at the slightest touch. A complete disaster.

Yet, she’s laughing, biting into one as if it were a feast fit for royalty, juice dribbling down her wrist as she leans over the bench by the river. Her golden braid clings to her neck, dampened by the warmth of the afternoon sun, and there’s hot sauce smudged on the corner of her mouth. She’s glowing. Unbothered. Carefree.

She’s perfect.

I mean it—perfect.

We’re barefoot now, our feet dangling off the riverbank, toes just brushing the cool water. Tiny silver fish dart beneath the surface, glinting in the sunlight like scattered coins. A turtle glides lazily past us, and she gasps, the sound reminiscent of a child’s delight, nudging me playfully with her foot. “Look, Asher.”

I do.

I look at her.

I can’t seem to tear my gaze away.

The ring tucked in my pocket feels heavier with each passing moment. It’s buried deep, encased in a little black velvet box I’ve been carrying for weeks—weeks of anticipation, but years of dreaming.

A simple gold band. Like her.

No—like the essence of her. Not the glamorous dresses or the bright stage lights or the applause that follows her. Just her. Quiet, gentle, sunshine-wrapped Penny. With her warm smile, patient soul, and fiercely loyal heart.

And that oval-cut diamond on top? That’s the light she brings into every room she enters.

I had planned to propose later, once we joined everyone in the field. The setup is already perfect—flowers and twinkling lights, music wafting through the air. Rooster has probably chilled the champagne by now, and Boomer is likely fretting over his timing to hit play on the speakers. Everything is arranged.

But I can’t wait.

She’s sitting beside me, one leg swinging lazily above the water, animatedly discussing how delicious the pineapple salsa was, how she wants to recreate it at home, and how we should plant fruit trees behind the house.

And I’m looking at her, really looking—at her flushed cheeks, soft and inviting. At her lips, pink and glistening from the mango soda. At her long, curled lashes that cast delicate shadows on her cheekbones.

And I think—now.

I shift slightly, my hand brushing toward my pocket.

But then she speaks, her voice soft and inviting.

“Asher?”

I freeze, caught off guard. “Yeah?”

Her head tilts slightly, a mischievous glimmer dancing in her eyes. “I think you have something very special planned for tonight.”

I blink, the velvet box stilling under my palm.

“…Maybe.”

Her smile is radiant, yet there’s a hint of nervousness in it—something sweet and tentative, fluttering like a butterfly’s wing.

“Can I tell you something first?” she asks, her tone serious yet hopeful.

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