by Lauren Runow
When I turn around, he’s still standing in the middle of our living room, proving that, yes, something is definitely up with him.
“Drew!” I whine playfully.
“Sharee!” He copies my tone.
I give him the evil eye as I walk back into the living room.
That’s when I see it. Something’s hidden in the tree.
My breath hitches as I stare at the tiny black box resting on a branch right at eye-level. I look at him, and he tilts his head toward the box with a grin on his face.
I run to it, grabbing it so fast I almost knock over other decorations. Rubbing my lips together, I close my eyes and mentally prepare for what this means.
I knew Drew and I were perfect together, but we haven’t really talked about marriage. Of course, I wanted to talk about it, but I didn’t want to rush things. Our entire relationship had been rushed, so I figured it would come when he was ready. Knowing he’s ready without us even talking about it is beyond a dream come true.
If there’s one thing I know without a doubt, it’s that he loves me, and we have forever to make things official, so I haven’t been in a hurry to bring it up.
When I turn to face him, I see that he’s moved closer.
He grins when he says, “Open it.”
I take a deep inhale and slowly open the lid to the velvet box. When I see what’s inside, I pause and squint my eyes. Lifting the gold string, I hold it up closer to see what it is.
A flat wooden Christmas ornament of toilet paper reads, I love you more than toilet paper—2020.
I laugh out loud and hold it up for him. “Are you serious right now?”
“What?” He steps closer. “I thought it was perfect for us. Our first ornament together.”
I look into his eyes, and he’s right. It’s the perfect ornament, and it tells our story together in only a way it could.
I rise to my tippy toes to kiss him. “That’s sweet. Thank you.”
“You don’t like it?” he asks.
“No, I love it. Look, I’m going to place it right here, so when everyone comes over, it’ll be the first ornament they see.”
I hang it on the tree, and when I flip around again to face him, he’s on one knee, holding up a diamond ring.
“Were you expecting this instead?”
My hands instantly cover my mouth as a squeal escapes my lips.
“Sharee?”
I jump into his arms. “Yes, yes, yes, Drew!” I cheer.
He laughs. “But I haven’t asked you anything yet.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” I wrap my arms around his neck, staying on his lap. “Continue.” I try to act as serious as possible.
He softly kisses my lips, and then he takes a deep breath before trying again. “You came into my life in the most uncertain time, yet everything about you was filled with certainty. You made dark times bright, and you have filled my life with everything I thought was missing. Seeing you at my games with my jersey on, your hair in pigtails, and more orange than the fruit itself covering your entire body made me proud to call you mine. I want to see if you’ll make Miller your last name, too, so the jersey is as true as it can possibly be. Sharee, will you marry me?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” I scream and lean in to kiss him.
“It’s okay if you need to think about it a little,” he says through his chuckles.
“Oh, stop. I’m going to be the best WAG now because everyone knows the wives mean the most, and everyone will know I’m yours.”
He pulls back to look me in the eyes. “Of that, I have no doubt!”
July 14, 2021
Drew was voted to be on the MLB All-Star team, and this week has been a whirlwind of events, parties, and more. Seeing him living his dream is the best part of being his wife.
We were married in a small wedding on March 27, a year to the day from when he messaged me on Tinder. Yes, it was during spring training, but the day meant more to us than having some big event.
Our wedding was perfect for us with only our families and a few close friends in attendance. And, yes, we had toilet paper rolls lining the aisle as I headed toward the most amazing man I’d ever met, waiting there to make me his wife.
I have one more surprise for him, and I figure being here, where he’s living his dream, is the best place to tell him.
The store at the stadium sells jerseys of every player, and while he’s warming up, I make my way there to buy exactly what I’m looking for.
We have a ritual where, before every game starts, he comes up to me in the stands and leans through the net to give me a kiss. It makes it interesting to kiss through the nets, but we don’t care.
We’ve been covered on pretty much every news station, and we’ve had more fans ooh and aah than I can remember. It’s my favorite part of being in his life.
As he heads toward me, I reach for my bag and hold up what I bought.
I watch as what I’m doing computes in his head. I take the tiny jersey that says Miller #24 across the back and place it to my stomach. That’s when it hits him.
His eyes widen, and a huge smile grows across his face as he runs the remainder of the way to me. “Is this what I think?” he asks, his face completely lit up.
I nod with the same grin on my face.
He kisses me through the net before turning and racing to where there’s no more fencing keeping him out of the stands. He jumps the small barrier, and I laugh at his antics before making my way toward him.
He squeezes past all the fans who are in shock to see him walking through the stands, having no clue what’s going on.
Fans reach out to pat him on the back as I hear him saying, “Excuse me. Sorry. I just need to get through.”
When he finally reaches me, I’m laughing so hard. He doesn’t care when he picks me up and kisses me with everyone around.
When he places me down, he takes the jersey, holding it up in the air for everyone to see, and screams, “We’re having a baby!”
The crowd erupts in cheers and clapping. Tears fall down my face as I take in his reaction. I knew he’d be happy, but I had no idea he’d be this elated.
Just like the quarantine surprised us all, Drew continues to surprise me in the most amazing way. We definitely took a bad situation and made the best of it, and now, we’ll have our own little reminder of the time in our world that no one will ever forget.
Sparks Fly
If you enjoyed Day One, check out Sparks Fly!
I’ve had the most amazing night of my life — with a complete stranger. Solving a riddle led me on an adventure I never could have imagined, only to be left in handcuffs next to the last person I ever expected to see. Prince Sage Stevinson.
Prologue
Sage
Everything is lined up. I had to pull some strings, using who I am to make it happen, but I’m finally ready. Tonight will decide my fate. I pick up my phone to text Everly:
Want to play a game?
My heart rate spikes as I await her reply. I haven’t thought about her not responding until this very second. If she doesn’t, all of this is for naught.
I’m down. What are the rules?
She replies with six words. There’s no way she knows who just sent her a text. Knowing she’s up for an adventure proves I’m doing the right thing. Let the games begin.
Solve the riddle to find out…
Chapter 1
Everly
Two weeks prior
Oh no, I completely lost track of time!
Tonight is the meeting I’ve both dreaded and anticipated for years now, and all I wanted was to get it over with. I grab my skirt lying next to me. When I arrived at The Ridge this afternoon, it was too nice of a day not to bask in the sun—so nice, I decided to lie out in my panties. Not only am I indecent now, but I’m also late for my meeting with the prince.
I put the uncomfortable, stiff material back on after climbing down the rocks. Once I’m back on ground level, I hobble on one foot as I sli
p on my shoes and then take off running. Don’t let my eagerness to be on time cause any confusion. This is not an appointment I wish to attend.
Glancing down at the outfit my mom chose—that’s now a rumpled skirt with scuffed shoes—causes me to laugh. If I show up like this, the prince will surely move on to the next bachelorette.
The Prince of Canterbury is expected to marry someone from noble family lineage based on nothing more than tradition. I believe it’s their way of keeping the high society members separate from the “normal” people, but that’s just my opinion.
As a Stone family heir, it is my birthright to meet with the Prince to determine if I’m considered marriage material for him. The tradition goes back to the beginning days of Canterbury, and the fact that this is still in place blows my mind.
I’ve never seen Prince Sage up close—or on his own in recent photos. His family has kept him out of the limelight since his fourteenth birthday. He showed up for random photo ops, but he always stood in the back, seemingly hidden on purpose. Aside from that, he is a huge mystery.
There’s speculation over why, but I can only imagine it’s because he’s turned into someone they aren’t proud of. With a high-browed, aristocratic family that’s so big on impressions, he must be a wreck if they don’t parade him around like they do his sister.
Most girls would die for the chance to be a princess, but having it forced down my throat from the time I could walk by an overly eager mother, it became a nightmare.
Every stand-up-straight, hold your chin up, place your hand in your lap while you eat, and suck in your stomach directive, was all to bring me to this moment. Even my name represents my happily ever after.
The thought causes me to stop and let out a heavy sigh. My happily ever after has nothing to do with marrying a prince. Marrying for love, yes. But for prestige—that has never appealed to me. I’m only going along with this farce to appease my mom; I’d hate to let her down.
When the king sent the invitation for us to convene at The Ridge, a resort at the top of Mount Palisade, I was surprised. My mother has worked at the resort my entire life, so it’s a second home to me.
Nestled on top a small mountain peak, The Ridge is where I run when I want to escape. The lavish mid-century style hotel is where all the upper society of Canterbury comes to flaunt their wealth with views only they can afford.
Behind the resort are massive rocks where I lay and breathe my stress away. Today it was my solace, and now, as I approach the back entrance to the resort, I am feeling dim.
Taking a deep breath, I fix my skirt, straighten my shirt over it, and pick a leaf out of my hair. Hopefully, my face isn't too red from the sun and my makeup hasn’t run.
I pull open the doors to see my frantic mother.
“Where have you been?” she whisper-shouts, guiding me to the ladies room. “I saw their car pulling up. I can't believe you’re going to keep him waiting. What kind of first impression is that? You've ruined your chances for sure.”
I want to yell, no, scream at her. I hope I did ruin my chances, but I won’t. This is her only dream for me, and I hate to shatter it after all she’s sacrificed.
“Here.” She shoves a hanger in my face, the long, flowing skirt from my closet falling from the metal. “Dress fast. We shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
I head into a stall, close the door, and raise the top over my head. “Surprised you thought to bring a change of clothes.”
She lets out a sarcastic huff. “I know my daughter. From the red in your cheeks, I presume you fell asleep.”
We fought over what I should wear all week. She wanted me in the dreadful ensemble that’s thankfully lying on the floor now. This outfit is me, more so than anything else in my closet.
I pull the skirt up, slip the new shirt on, and then leave the stall.
Mom rushes to fix my hair. “Everly, do you understand what it took for me to arrange this meeting? I fought for you to have this opportunity. You don’t see it now, but this is a blessing.”
Through the mirror, I stare at my mother’s reflection. We’re spitting images of each other. Everything except the worry lines and every hard days work she’s endured that’s starting to show on her face. I know she means well, but I wish she would stop treating me like a little girl.
“I’m going, but this is not the life I wish to live.”
She runs a brush through my hair. “What would you prefer? Running around with a camera on your back?”
Ever since I was in high school, I’ve dreamt of being a documentarian sharing the human-interest stories of the underprivileged. I want to travel the world, enrich my life with different cultures, and impart what I’ve learned with everyone. I’ve already started producing my own film.
Our eyes meet through the glass. “Is it wrong to want to contribute to society as a strong, independent woman with a career of my own?”
With a sigh, she places her hands on my shoulders. “You can contribute more as a princess.”
“I wouldn’t be able to make my documentary.”
“But you’d make other memories.”
I grit my teeth, upset that she would compare my dreams of making documentary films to just memories. “And what about love?”
Her determined stare wavers as she takes in my words. She had this chance when she was my age, but blinded by the love of my father, she threw it all away. Instead, she decided to marry my dad before King William chose his bride to be.
My father was a commoner in the minds of the affluent people of Canterbury. When my mom married him, her family and the community shunned her, but it didn’t matter. Only love did.
That is, until my dad passed away before I was born. From what I’ve heard about him, he was an extraordinary man who loved my mother more than life itself. I wish I’d had a chance to meet him. When my mom says I’m exactly like him, I can’t help but be filled with pride for the man who helped give me life.
Ever since his death, she’s struggled financially, but I’ve always had a roof over my head and food on the table. We may not have had everything, but we’ve had some good times together. She swears the only way I won’t have to struggle through life is if I marry Prince Sage, the next king of our small blip of an island country.
While my mother spouts this marriage is the best thing that could ever happen to me, I often wonder if she believes her own words. She ponders what her life would be like had she not married my dad. However, the way she gazes so longingly at my father’s picture every night, I know despite what she says—deep down—she would do it all over again.
That’s why I choose love. Not the prince.
I won’t settle for anything more than someone who lights my world on fire. Someone who challenges me, but allows me to be the person I am. I know that person exists somewhere. I’m willing to place my bets on him instead of throwing my dream away for a life of prestige and money.
With a small shake of her head, she moves away from me and grabs shoes from her bag. Placing them on the ground in front of me, she says, “You need mascara.”
There is no use rehashing the past or pleading for my desire to shape my own destiny, for that matter.
“Someday you’ll realize how blessed you are to be a Stone,” she says after I’ve freshened my makeup.
“We’re Stanley women, Mother. I have—and always will be—my father’s daughter.”
She tsks. “I swear, it's like you don’t want this to go well for us,” she states, pushing me toward the door.
“Us?” I tilt my head in her direction.
“You know what I mean.” She waves her hand dismissively.
Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.
I stand up straight and suppress my sigh. Looking at the reflection staring back at me, I prepare to enter the performance room that unfortunately could become my life.
Acknowledgments
I had an idea a few weeks ago… A chapter a night posted to Facebook, written in live time about a co
uple who met during the quarantine via Tinder. I had no idea how long it would last or if people would even follow along.
It turned into so much more than I ever imagined. Getting to interact with the readers everyday was the main thing to get me by on those days where I just wanted my normal life back.
I had a lot of requests to release this as a full book so if you enjoyed this thank those readers on Facebook for pushing me to continue. I was sad when their story ended, but after writing a chapter a day for 19 straight days I felt their story was told.
Thank you everyone who followed along with Drew and Sharee’s adventure. I can’t tell you what your support has meant to me over these past few weeks.
Thank you again for joining me on this journey. Take care everyone, and stay healthy out there!
About the Author
Lauren Runow is the author of multiple Adult Contemporary Romance novels, some more dirty than others. When Lauren isn't writing, you'll find her listening to music, at her local CrossFit, reading, or at the baseball field with her boys. Her only vice is coffee, and she swears it makes her a better mom!
Lauren is a graduate from the Academy of Art in San Francisco and is the founder and co-owner of the community magazine she and her husband publish. She is a proud Rotarian, helps run a local non-profit kids science museum, and was awarded Woman of the Year from Congressman Garamendi. She lives in Northern California with her husband and two sons.
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