Oh God, no. I sucked in a breath and held it.
Then he blinked and bent down.
Way down. Like he was about to faint or something.
“Jordan—!” I reached out a hand—as if I’d have the strength to steady him if he fell over.
Instead, he was on a knee, holding out a box—a jewelry box. Not the blue Tiffany one. This one was black, and there, nestled against dark blue velvet was a very traditional, brilliant-cut diamond in white gold. Classy. The stone winked at me in the low light.
I blinked. Confused. What the…?
“April, will you—”
My hands shot out in front of me, fingers spread wide. “Stop it! That isn’t funny.”
His brows scrunched together. “It’s not supposed to be funny.”
“Stop joking around!”
His brows now climbed his forehead. “I’m not doing that, either…”
I shook my head. “Then what…what is this?”
He threw a long glance out the corner of his eyes like a frightened animal, as if to figure out whether or not I was setting a trap for him.
“What does it look like? It’s a marriage proposal.”
What the… what? The air rushed out of my lungs as if I’d been punched. “Oh Jordan! What did you do?”
He cocked his head, truly puzzled. “Huh?”
“Did you—and her—Anna—did you two—did…?”
He shot to his feet and all but dropped that ring trying to get to me as I took a step backward. He had his hands on my arms.
“April! April… babe. No. No. Why would you think that?”
I gestured with a long sweep of my arm. “You’ve been sneaking off to talk to her, and she’s all over you like cheap lycra and—and—the texting and the phone calls and—”
“No, no….April. She was helping me plan it all.”
I shook my head. “Plan? What do you mean plan?”
He rolled his eyes and sighed. “I didn’t want to ask you like this. I wanted it to be… I wanted it to be huge, epic, memorable--something you could brag about to your friends. I wanted—a gondola ride over the valley where I sink to a knee and ask you in between the mountains or… or… a hot air balloon or a castle in Europe. I wanted it to make you happy. Because I know you really want it.”
I breathed, listened, breathed again. Let his words sink in as he spoke to me.
“But—but you don’t want to get married. That’s why I tease you about it.”
Now it was his turn to hesitate, breathe, blink—and then frown. “What?”
“I tease you because it’s funny. Not because I’m dying to get married.”
Another long pause while he stared at me, possibly to assess whether or not I was serious. “Really?”
I nodded. “Yes, really. I’m not dying to get married. But I am always dying to make you squirm, and joking about marriage and weddings and all that is low-hanging fruit when it comes to freaking you out!”
Suddenly his entire body when slack as if from great relief. He reached a hand up and ran it through his hair. “I wanted this because I thought it would make you happy.”
“Oh, Beast…” I walked up to him and pulled him into my arms. “That’s not the reason to ask me. Ask me because it’s what you want.”
His arms came around me, encircling my shoulders and pulling me against his hard, broad chest. I inhaled his scent, closing my eyes. “I do want it. I mean I will want it. I…”
“You’re not ready.” I cleared my throat and cocked my head to look up at him. “And neither am I.”
“You thought I was cheating—or going to cheat—with Anna. You’re not secure in our relationship.”
“A ring is not the solution to that either.” I swallowed. “Honestly, it was the very first time in the two years we’ve been together that I’ve ever gotten paranoid. You were just acting so weird. I thought… Don’t laugh, but I actually thought my stupid marriage jokes scared you off, and you just wanted to go back to your old hound dog days.”
He blew out a breath and laughed, his arms tightening me against him. “Oh jeez, babe. I wouldn’t go back to those days if you paid me. I mean, they were fun and all but…”
“But you outgrew that?”
He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “Yes. Anna might have been the type I’d hit on for a good roll in the hay in my past. But that’s not me anymore. And I’m not even the least bit tempted. When I want to hold someone, it’s you I want to hold. When I want to touch someone and feel her touch me, that person is you. When I want to come home after a tough day at work and talk to someone—that’s you, too.”
I buried my face in his chest again to hide the tears that were prickling behind my eyes. But they overflowed, and I was shaking. It didn’t take him long to realize it.
“April—babe. Why are you crying?”
“I feel terrible.”
He reached down and took my chin in his big hand and lifted my face so he could look down into it. “It’s okay. Sometimes I get a little crazy jealous too. I just don’t tell you about it. Like when we’re out and a guy gets a little too interested in checking out your perfect ass or amazing rack. Or when someone at the office gets flirty with you. Sometimes I get a little scared you might meet some guy in one of your MBA classes.”
I laughed, and because my nose was now plugged with tears, it came out as a snort.
He laughed. “Now you sound like Mia.”
“I’m sorry I doubted you,” I whispered.
He reached down and dried my tears. “As long as you weren’t going to leave my ass, then we’re good.”
I bit my lip guiltily. “I think I might have considered it for about five minutes. But that’s because I thought you were into her.”
He shook his head. “Nope. I’m into a much much hotter chick. The hottest. I’m pretty damn obsessed.”
My eyes closed, tingles of pleasure trickling down my shoulders and back just from his words. “I love you.”
“I love you, babe. Always.” He reached up and pulled some hair out of my face, tucking it back behind my ear. “And now I’m going to need your help.”
“For what?”
“You need you to help me figure out what the hell I’m going to do with two engagement rings.”
I laughed, my eyes squeezing closed. “Oh my god, that first one was yours too? The one you said was William’s?”
“I swear to god it’s the first time I’ve ever lied to you.”
“I guess it was for a good cause. But honestly, I want you to understand something. I don’t need fancy. I don’t need flashy and something to brag about. I’ve already got the best thing to brag about—my hot surfer-dude genius CFO boyfriend who makes all other guys look like wannabes. I already brag about you. I have no shame about that either. I don’t need some obnoxious over-the-top engagement story. I don’t need the gaudiest gigantic rock you can find. I want to go with you, when we know the time is right for both of us, and pick out our rings side-by-side. When both of us are certain that will make us happy, okay?”
He bent down and kissed my forehead again. “That sounds perfect to me.”
I sniffed again really loud. “I need to blow my nose.”
He turned and scanned room around us. “I don’t see any tissue here. Let me go find you something.”
“There’s tissue in our room. Let’s just go grab it there. I’ll blow my nose and then…if you’re a good boy, I might consider blowing something else…” I waggled my brows up at him.
“Tissues it is. As soon as humanly possible.”
He grabbed my hand and lead me back to our room at such a fast walk that I practically had to run to keep up with him.
My beast… he’d never change in that respect.
Chapter 28
William
“Dude, you gotta tell her...”
“I’ve already told her, and nothing has changed since I did.” I argue back at Lucas. Normally I’d be discussing th
is with my cousin or Jordan. But Jordan annoyed me by trying to get me to lie to his girlfriend about an engagement ring. And Adam is so preoccupied with whatever he’s trying to accomplish with Mia that he’s useless. But I had to ask someone’s opinion.
We’re sitting on the covered back porch—the solarium—at a table looking out at the view and drinking warm winter drinks. Lucas has a latte and I have hot chocolate.
Lucas blinks, cocks his head at me, as if expecting me to say more. I just look back at him.
“I mean, you’ve told her....once?”
I make a gesture. “More than once, actually. I even said it in her native language. In a church. That should be enough.”
Lucas lets out a little snort and shakes his head. “It’s never enough. They like to hear it. A lot. It’s reassuring. I mean... she says it to you, right?”
I shrug. “She says a lot of things to me that are repetitive and unnecessary—”
Lucas straightens and holds up a hand. “Whoa, who said that saying I love you isn’t necessary?”
“I say that repeating yourself isn’t necessary. She’s aware that I have a good memory. She doesn’t have to keep reminding me, especially of a fact as important as that.”
Lucas laughs. “She’s not just saying it for you, though. She’s saying it for herself, too. It’s how she expresses herself.”
I frown and set down my now-empty mug, considering whether I should fix a third cup of hot chocolate. Between that and the Bosnian cookies, I’ll have to work out harder when I come home from vacation. “You mean, she has to remind herself that she loves me? I thought she had a good memory.”
Lucas studies me for a moment, rubbing his jaw. “It’s… it’s like putting a lifeline out there for your partner, you know? Life can get a little messy, a little stormy. You have a bad day at work, her car broke down. Things didn’t go well at school. Maybe you even snapped at each other because you were tired or hungry or whatever. But even when you aren’t feeling great about each other—angry or irritated, that is always there. It’s a constant. Like the life-saver on a boat. You throw out that I love you to remind yourself and your partner that you are there for them in the storm. They aren’t alone.”
I frown. He’s making an analogy, and I’m typically not good at following those, but I think I grasp what he’s trying to say. “But those are just words. What do they do, really? I’d rather show my love with actions.”
“As long as she understands that’s what you’re doing with your actions, right? You need to be on the same page—I mean, speak the same language.” Lucas nodded, considering. “It’s true that there are a lot of ways to show your love, too. Purposely losing a skiing race might be one I need to consider…” he says with a grin that I don’t fully understand.
Speak the same language. Yes, we both speak English. But I think Lucas is making another analogy. My actions are my way of showing her my love, but if she doesn’t understand that, then she won’t feel what I’m trying to tell her when I fetch her a drink without asking, when I help her build a bulletin board for her classroom or when I make her a carrying case for her Tarot cards. I use my hands to tell her how I feel.
That makes it sound like it’s about sex.
I’m glad I’ve had this talk with Lucas. I’d been skeptical at first, since I didn’t know him as well as Adam and Jordan, but so far, he’s scored much higher on the quality of his advice versus the other two.
With this new information, I’ve come to a decision. Whether or not I’m finished with it, I need to show her the project I’ve been working on.
She needs that assurance.
So I fix more hot chocolate—this time, two mugs, and carry them, with my sketchpad under my arm, into the other room. I find her there, looking at her phone and ask if she’ll join me in the upstairs library.
“Hey, Wil. Yeah, sure. Lucas and Kat have their ski race in a little while… and tonight it’s New Years. Have you decided what you want to do?”
I blink. “Well, I’ll leave the decision up to you.”
She falls in behind me as we climb the stairs. “And if I want to go out to a public gathering, dancing and partying until midnight?”
I hesitate, considering. It sounds like something I’d completely dislike. But I’d do it, if that’s what she wanted. I just wouldn’t enjoy myself, and then I’d probably add it to my never again list.
“I’m teasing. Just go…”
I resume climbing and we enter the library. I set the mugs on the coffee table and she grins. “Thanks for the chocolate, but I’m not going to be able to fit in these jeans much longer if you keep making it for me. Then you’ll regret it.”
I blink, settling down on the couch. “It wouldn’t matter to me if you gained weight, as long as you stayed healthy. It wouldn’t change how I feel…”
Jenna hesitates, her mug halfway to her mouth before she turns to me. “And… and how is it that you feel?”
I stare at her for a long moment. “It’s not obvious?”
She ducks her head, sips from the mug, and then replaces it on the coffee table. “Well, sometimes, you know, I like to be reminded.”
“Yes, I think I understand.”
Her pale blue eyes flew up to meet mine, eyebrows raising a bit. “You do?”
I pull out my sketchbook and set it down between us on the couch.
“You wanted me to say the words and I didn’t understand how important they were for you to hear. But when you made that scarf for me—”
“The scratchy one with all the flaws?”
I reached out and took her hand. “ Yes, it’s flawed and scratchy. But it also kept me warm when I was cold and miserable. You made it with these beautiful hands. Just for me. Whenever I wear it, I think about all it took for you to make it. And when you gave it to me on Christmas—
even though it wasn’t done, and it had missing stitches—it made me feel good inside. That you’d learned this new skill and the first thing you thought to make was something for me.”
She blinked, her eyes suddenly going rounder.
I cleared my throat and kept talking. “And so, I had the thought to use my hands to make something for you. It’s not a new skill but I didn’t have the time to learn something new. But since you like my drawings…” I pushed the sketchpad toward her. “Open it up.”
She reached out, took it, and did as I asked. I watched her face as she looked at the first page—a sketch of a small cottage amid a familiar backdrop, a piece of land we’d recently bought. Three acres in the Cuyamaca mountains right beside the lake in San Diego county. Our plan is to someday build a cottage there and live sustainably. It was her dream, and we were already acquiring skills to learn how to do it.
Her eyes landed on the sketch, a hand reached out to the page as she let out a long breath. “Oh, William… our cottage! You’ve drawn it.”
“Turn the page.”
And she did. The sketches showed the cottage from every angle, just as we’d discussed. We’d actually spent many hours talking about it. She wants a herd of goats and to make her own cheese and soap. I want a sprawling vegetable garden and, of course, a forge and art studio. We’d even spent time out there, camping in a tent. While we were there, we’d walk around the property and talk about what we wanted to put and where we’d put it.
She continued to page through the sketches of the outside from different angles, and then she got to the page with the interiors. She put her thin, delicate fingertips to her mouth. “It’s beautiful. I didn’t even have the imagination to dream this up, but you’ve translated what we’ve talked about so beautifully. Oh, Wil, all that time you were working on your sketches, this was what you were doing. What an amazing gift.”
I look down, suddenly aware that my time spent on this had mad her sad. “I’m sorry that working on it was making you upset.”
She shook her head. “It’s—it’s all right. I understand, now. You wanted to surprise me.”
“I don’t
know if I like surprising people anymore. It means I have to lie or be secretive until the time is right.” I shake my head. “I don’t think it’s worth it.”
She laughs and lifts her eyes to mine, her smile growing wider. She reached her hand out and smoothed it across my cheek. “In this case, it was definitely worth it. Thank you.”
I take her hand from my cheek and bring it to my mouth, kissing it. “I know I don’t tell you as often as you’d want, but I love you. I’ll try to say it more.”
She smiled and a silvery tear streams from her eye. I still don’t understand why, but I know that sometimes Jenna cries when she’s happy, so I’m not concerned. “I think I just understood something, too. That you do tell me often. Just not with words.”
I squeeze her hand, at once happy and also relieved that she understands me.
She sets the pad aside and scoots herself close to me. In seconds, her arms are locked around my neck. We’re kissing and holding each other, and I’ve pulled her so tightly against me that it’s hard for either of us to breathe.
There’s this feeling inside, a tightness in my chest. I know it’s not the case, but it feels like my heart is too big inside of there. I guess that’s where the sentiment came from—that love is felt in the heart.
But it’s just a sentiment. Because I feel my love for Jenna all over my body, everywhere.
And as I kiss her and smell her sweetness and hold her close, I know that I’ll never get tired of telling her I love her, whether it’s with my words or with my hands, with the things I make or what I do for her.
And I know that it’s the same for her.
And that even though sometimes life feels uncomfortable, uncertain—stormy, to use Lucas’s metaphor—we’ll be each other’s lifeline. Each other’s anchor.
It makes me feel safe.
Chapter 29
Katya
You’ve made some dumbass decisions in your life, Katharina Rose Ellis, but this might be the dumbest one of all.
For The Holidays (Gaming The System Book 9) Page 15