Let’s take you back to June 2022 in Kiawah, South Carolina—a weekend filled with love, celebration, and, unbeknownst to us at the time, the start of our own forever.

It all began at my brother Sean’s wedding to his wife, Kathleen. Now, here’s a little fun fact: Kathleen and Maddie weren’t just college roommates—they were also teammates at Cal. So when Kathleen and Sean got married, it brought all their closest friends and family together, including me and Maddie.

The first night was Sean’s welcome party, and I was outside, hanging out with a mix of his football buddies and Kathleen’s friends. That’s when this gorgeous girl, fresh off a flight, walked up and asked me, “So, how do you know Sean?” Me, being the smartass that I am, decided to joke around. “Oh, I played football with Sean.” Maddie’s friend Abbey immediately shut that down: “Are you stupid? He looks just like Sean—it’s his brother.”

From that moment on, I made it my personal mission to mess with Maddie. Throughout the night, I kept coming up to her—probably about nine times—and every single time, I called her by the wrong name. It was 100% on purpose, knowing it would annoy her just enough to keep me on her radar. As the night wrapped up, she was getting on the shuttle back, and I took one last shot, calling her the wrong name again. She looked at me, smirked, and said, “Wrong. How about we try this again tomorrow?”

Challenge accepted.

The next day—Sean’s wedding day—was scorching hot, easily pushing 100 degrees. But despite the heat, all I could think about was Maddie. After the ceremony, during the cocktail hour, I made it my mission to find her. I spotted her, walked straight up to her, and before I could even say a word, she smirked and asked, “What’s my name?”

This time, I got it right.

And the rest? Well, the rest was history.

But since you’re already here, let’s keep going.

At the end of the night, everything was a blur, with everyone piling into shuttles back to the hotel. I grabbed Maddie and brought her into the car with my parents, General Crowe, my cousin Wesley, and his wife, Bailee. There weren’t enough seats, so naturally, Maddie ended up sitting on my lap. Oh, and just to clarify—this weekend was the very first time Maddie had ever met my family.

The first stop was Maddie’s drop-off, but there was one small problem: Maddie, bless her heart, is severely directionally challenged (she needs GPS to walk to the mailbox—it’s that bad). Panicked, she assured us she knew where she was and asked to be let out early. The reality? She had no idea where she was.

So there she was, alone in the dark on Kiawah Island—an island with swamps and alligators—completely lost. She had to call Abbey and say, “Uh… can you come find me? I’m lost.”

Fast forward to the next morning: the farewell brunch. I called for a tram to take me to the clubhouse, and guess who happened to be on it? Yep, Maddie. Except this time, she didn’t say a word to me. I figured she must be mad, so we rode in silence and went our separate ways when we arrived.

Thirty minutes later, I spotted her at a table talking about how she lost her sunglasses the night before. Naturally, I made it my mission to find them. And—no surprise here—I did. I returned them to her, and that was the last time we saw each other in person for about two weeks.

But in those two weeks, something happened.

Later that day, as I was saying goodbye to Sean and Kathleen, I asked Kathleen for Maddie’s Instagram. I followed her, she followed me back, and—believe it or not—I wasn’t the one who slid into the DMs first. She messaged me, sending pictures of us from the wedding.

From there, I asked for her number, and we talked nonstop for two weeks. And I mean nonstop. By the way, I already knew at this point—I was going to marry her.

At some point, Maddie mentioned she lost her AirPods in Kiawah. So, naturally, I sent her a brand-new pair (ones I had never used) and a bouquet of flowers. A few days later, we made plans for me to fly to San Francisco to spend the Fourth of July with her.

That weekend, we went to a party with her friends—the same ones from the wedding. We were having a great time when, out of nowhere, Maddie walked up to me, looked me in the eyes, and said those three magical words:

“I love you.”

Then, immediately realizing what she had done, she sprinted to the bathroom in shock. If you’re wondering, yes—I told her I loved her too. And that? That was the nail in the coffin for me. I knew I was going to marry her.

Now, being long-distance was not easy—me in Texas, her in California. But we made it work. Maddie worked remotely, so she was able to fly out to Texas for two to three weeks at a time, which made things so much easier.

Fast forward six months. I knew I was going to marry Maddie, so I flew to California to ask her dad for his blessing. But it wasn’t just her dad—I also had to get the approval of her little brother, Patrick (Paddy), who had become my little brother too. If you’re reading this, you already know the answer: they both said yes.

Three months later, I found her the perfect ring, got all the details in place, and was ready. Now, if you know me, you know I love smoking meats. So, naturally, I planned Maddie’s entire proposal around… smoking a brisket.

We love picnic dates, so I planned a beautiful coastal picnic at Half Moon Bay. We got there, walked down to the beach with our picnic basket, and just as we set up, I realized—I left the ring in the car. A mile away. So I told Maddie, “I forgot my phone in the car,” and sprinted back to get it.

Finally, it was time. I asked Maddie to marry me.

She said yes (obviously). And for those wondering—yes, the brisket was perfect.

From there, we had a decision to make: wedding first or house first? We decided on the house. So if you’re ever in Houston, give us a call—you have a place to stay!

That was a year and a half ago. And now, here we are. We can’t wait to celebrate with y’all the week of May 3rd!