Okay, so I’ll admit I didn’t exactly have a plan.

We’d just wrapped up one of those missions where everything went sideways — explosions, a near-death escape, the usual. By the time we got back to the Calypso, Laureline headed straight for the VR room. I knew where she’d be: on her favorite generated beach with the sound of waves crashing and the fake sun casting this warm, golden glow over her skin.

And there she was, lounging back on the sand like the chaos of the universe had never even touched her. She had one arm behind her head, eyes closed, and this peaceful little smile on her lips. I just stood there for a second, watching her, thinking, How does she always look like she belongs anywhere she goes? And how the hell am I supposed to spend the rest of my life without her?

The answer hit me before I could even second-guess it. I couldn’t.

So, without thinking it through — because when do I ever? — I walked over and dropped to one knee right in the sand next to her.

“Laureline.”

She cracked one eye open, squinting at me. “You’re blocking my sun.”

Typical.

“I’m trying to propose here,” I said, because subtlety isn’t really my thing.

Both her eyes popped open, and she sat up so fast the sand scattered around her. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me.” I swallowed, suddenly feeling like the biggest idiot in the galaxy. “Look, I know I drive you crazy, and you probably want to throw me off this ship half the time, but… I love you. I love you in a way that makes surviving explosions and alien assassins seem easy, and I don’t want to go another mission without knowing you’re mine. So… marry me.”