by Ana Ashley
David came straight after me. Each motion of his hips was causing additional aftershocks to rock my body.
We were both trying to get our breath back. If sex with David was always going to be like this, I was going to need to up my exercise levels.
“I love your ‘I’m being fucked so good’ face,” he said as he gently pulled out of me.
“I love you.”
We settled back in bed after cleaning ourselves up a bit. We lay face-to-face, just looking into each other’s eyes, smiling.
“Is this really happening?” David asked.
“Better be. Otherwise, I’ve got questions about the current state of my ass.” I chuckled, but he opened his eyes wide.
“Did I hurt you?”
“Fuck no. You can do that to me anytime. And to answer your question, yes, this is really happening. I don’t know how we’re going to do it, though. That’s something for us to talk about tomorrow, but we’re going to be together, okay?”
He pulled me against him and nodded. It didn’t take long until I fell asleep.
When I woke up, it was dark outside. The bedside lamp was on, and David was sitting on the bed next to me, leafing through a recipe book.
I sat up and cuddled up to him.
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
“Hey, whatcha doin’?”
“Just waiting for you to wake up. I forgot to give you something earlier.”
He took an envelope that was sitting on his bedside table and passed it to me. It had my name on in my mom’s handwriting.
I opened it, and when I took the letter out, something fell on my lap. I picked it up to see what it was. Two silver chains with a pendant each. The pendants looked like they were stuck together until I realized they were magnetic.
Two puzzle pieces, one with my name on and the other with David’s name. Both had a small circular shape on one side, which didn’t make sense. When I held them side by side, I realized they really fit like a puzzle and the shapes made up a heart between our names.
I opened the letter and immediately laughed at the first line, and then caught the date on it.
She wrote it last summer.
“Dear Joebug (blame Max, it’s catchy!),
I asked Teresa to keep this letter for you in case I’m ever not around to tell you these words.
For the last thirteen years, I saw a boy I’ve known since before he was born grow up before he should have to. He lost so much, but there is one thing he refused to lose, and that’s his love for you, whether he’s aware of it or not.
Ask him what were the first words he said to me every single time I came back home.
My dear Joel, over the last few years, I’ve seen you slowly lose the spark you had when you were with your best friend. Don’t let it fade completely. Go home again.
Remember, you were conceived in New York, but you were made in Portugal.
With love,
Mom
“Joel, sweetheart.”
I found myself wrapped in David’s arms while tears clouded my vision.
“They knew, David. My mom and your mom, they knew.”
“I think she was referring to us as friends, but she was right. You are home again. Now, here with me, you are home.”
It was true. I came all this way to let my parents go and ended up finding myself. Every place we visited, every conversation we had with people I’d never met before and would never see again made me feel more and more at home.
I picked up the chains and put the one with my name on David’s neck and the one with his name on mine. We were so close to each other that the magnetic puzzle pieces stuck together.
“What did you say to my mom?”
“What?”
I’d stopped crying, but he was still stroking my hair like I was the most delicate thing he’d ever touched.
“In the letter, my mom told me to ask you what you used to say to her.”
“Tell me about Joel.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
David
Portugal, August, a year later
Only I would choose to propose to the love of my life on the hottest day of the year. On the beach, with not a square inch of shade nearby, I was hot, sweaty, and nervous as all hell.
The memory of the day we finally declared our love for each other still made my heart skip a beat. I still couldn’t believe that my life had changed so much in less than twelve hours—if you exclude the out-of-this-world lovemaking.
Joel and I had spent three days holed up in my apartment. And no, it wasn’t because we were making out like rabbits. We’d actually talked. A lot.
I’d recounted how my aunt and uncle came to the apartment to check up on me and how, at nearly my breaking point, I told them I was gay. The parts about Vítor were a little harder to remember, so once we rejoined the outside world, we’d gone to see my uncle so he could tell us about his brother.
It was an emotional conversation since it brought back a lot of painful memories for my uncle. He blamed himself for not being there for his brother. For the first time in my life, I’d also heard more about their desire to have a child. I’d fulfilled that role when my mom died, but I could see they still wanted someone who was truly theirs.
When we talked about the family, I asked them about my dad. They’d said my mom had never told them who it was. They’d used almost the same words Avó Violeta had used. They didn’t know if she’d been in a relationship, but Vítor might know because they were best friends. That had been the end of it.
During those three days, we also tried to figure out how we were going to make our relationship work. I didn’t want to leave my aunt and uncle when we’d just started rebuilding our relationship, and Joel didn’t want to stop teaching.
We’d ended up having our first fight as a couple. We’d sulked, each in our own corner of the apartment, but neither of us left, and when we’d realized how ridiculous we both were, we tested how good our make-up sex was.
I’d declared we were going to have to fight at least once a week. Joel grabbed my recipe notebook and started making notes about fighting topics. The first one was that he must never, ever touch my recipe notebook.
In reality, it was a slow process, which we took a day at a time.
Joel took a leave of absence from teaching, initially with the premise that he was going to research how he could set up a student exchange program. He missed teaching, but once word got out, a lot of the English Language students at the university came to him for tutoring.
I’d kept in touch with two of the young guys from Isaac’s center. They’d attended a few of my classes, so when I’d asked if they’d like a job at my café, they jumped at the chance.
My aunt and uncle worked too much and deserved a little break. I hadn’t noticed how much they worked because I was doing the same, but when I took a step back, I realized how much of our lives we’d devoted to the café. We’d built a successful business, but it was time to reap the rewards.
It took me two months to train one of the new guys to take over the production of my custard tarts full time. I’d had to threaten the life out of him to make sure he wouldn’t share my recipe, but I’d seen how much he enjoyed the work, and he seemed loyal. He also didn’t want to face the wrath of my aunt when she was angry.
After those two months, I took Joel to New York. He'd missed Max like mad, and he was moping so much I’d surprised him with tickets. That earned me a lot of naked sexy time.
We stayed in New York for another two months during which I took a few courses and expanded my blog to include world foods. Joel’s grandmother’s Hamptons house had the most amazing kitchen, so I used it for the food production filming.
I’d also become closer to Max. He still wouldn’t tell me what had happened between him and Isaac, but he’d asked us if he could rent Joel’s apartment for a few months. He said he was feeling burned out from work and had decided to take a sabbatical. I had a feeling there was a different reason for
Max wanting to return to Portugal.
By the time we came back home, Joel’s exchange program was in its earlier stages where they were getting students on either side of the pond through the application process to find the best candidates.
Things slowed down a bit for Joel after that, which meant a lot of quality time for us, especially as I didn’t need to be at the café as much. He became very restless. I could see he was happy, but there was something missing.
One day when I saw a notepad on the floor on his side of the bed, I asked him about it, and he told me he’d been writing lots of notes and thoughts since our trip around the country with our moms’ journal.
I asked if he could turn it into a novel. He laughed and dismissed it, but a week later, I woke up in the middle of the night to find him with his nose in his laptop on the love seat in the living room, typing furiously. I made him a cup of coffee, kissed him, and went back to bed.
Two months later, he had the first draft. He shared it with a few college friends who helped him with editing and suggestions for a cover.
We’d been to the Sanctuary a few times, both to feel closer to his parents and because it was the best place to watch the sunset. I took a photo of the beach at the bottom of the cliff and asked if it could be part of the cover since it was such a special place.
Joel loved the idea and then decided to add a photo of our car too. We’d decided we’d eventually need a more reliable car, but the Citroen hadn’t let us down since that night in Évora, and it was our precious link to both our moms, so we weren’t in any rush.
The cover had turned out perfect, and Made In Portugal was only a few weeks from being released. Joel was already working on a second novel, and I couldn’t be more proud of him.
Which was the reason why I decided to propose. We’d been together just over a year, and as far as I could see, there was no reason to delay it.
We hadn’t exactly talked about marriage, but I knew it was an important step for Joel whenever he’d talked about his parents. My mom never got married, so I wanted to make her proud, and the thought of having Joel as my husband made me feel all kinds of happy inside.
“Baby...”
“Huh?”
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Joel said.
We’d come to Fonte Da Telha, our beach, for a walk, or so he thought.
“Your hands are all clammy, and you’re very quiet. Are you feeling okay? Maybe we should go back home.”
“No.” This was it. I had to do this now before I had a coronary. He wasn’t going to say no, was he? No, he loved me. Jesus.
“David, you’re worrying me.”
I kissed him like it was going to be our last kiss, which, if this proposal failed, it was.
“Mmm, Christ, David. You can’t kiss me like that in public, baby. And definitely not when I’m wearing beach shorts.”
I put my arms around his waist to keep him close and to hide the erection I could feel against me.
“Joel, I wanted to bring you here because this is our beach. We spent so many days here pretending we were so grown up because we could come here on our own. It was on this beach that we kissed for the first time. As confused as I was about liking that kiss, I also felt very comfortable knowing I liked you. Our childhood friendship became more that day.”
“David,” he choked.
“I lost you, but then I got you back, and then I nearly lost you again out of my own fear and stupidity. Two amazing women brought us back together. They may not be with us physically, but they are with us in everything we do. Every kid I help at the center, every cake I bake, every word you write, every minute you spend with your grandparents. It’s all on them.
We’ve had the most amazing year together. I wouldn’t change a second of it, but there is a small change I would like to make to our lives.”
I paused and took two white-gold bands out of the hidden pocket in my beach shorts.
When I went down on one knee, I knew he’d guess what I was about to do, so I just said it.
“Joel Peterson, will you marry me?”
Joel gasped and then kneeled to my level. Our magnetic pendants joined together, as they always did when we were so close to each other.
“Yes, I... you, fuck, yes.” He kissed me with the promise of a life together, like there was never any doubt about that particular aspect of our future lives.
I put the band on his finger, and it looked perfect. Then I put mine on my finger and interlaced our hands.
“I love you so much, David.”
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
I saw a glint of something in his eyes and smiled at the man who was going to be my husband.
“Baby, we need to go home because I need to make love to my fiancé.”
“Actually,” I laughed. “We can’t.”
“Why?”
I pointed up the length of the beach. “Because about five hundred meters that way, there’s a whole family waiting for us to celebrate,” I said.
“A whole family?”
“Yup. The whole lot.”
When we got close enough to the group, they all cheered and congratulated us.
I’d left the arrangements of this part of the day to my uncle, who’d become my partner in crime, and in true Portuguese fashion, there was more food than anyone could eat, plenty of drink, and a lot of loud celebration.
Four hours later, the sun had disappeared behind the horizon, but the party was still going strong. Apart from Joel’s grandparents, who’d gone home, everybody was still here talking about wedding arrangements.
I was chatting with Joel’s cousin when I saw him walk toward the water. I got up and joined him.
“Hey, gorgeous,” I whispered in his ear as I worked my arms around his waist, “do you come here often?” I asked, repeating the same words he’d said at the club.
“No, but I think I’ll change my mind.”
Do you want to know how Joel and David celebrated their first Valentines season together?
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About Ana
Ana Ashley was born in Portugal but has lived in the United Kingdom for so long, even her friends sometimes doubt if she really is Portuguese.
After getting hooked on reading gay romance, Ana decided to follow her lifelong dream of becoming an author.
These days you can find her in front of her laptop bringing her stories to life, or in the kitchen perfecting her recipe for the famous Portuguese custard tarts.
Ana Ashley writes sweet and steamy gay romance set in America, often in small towns where everyone knows everyone.
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