The One I Want

by Scott, S. L.

  She sighs, her chest laden with heaviness. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to check with me to do your job. I just want to know that at the end of it, you’re returning to me. That’s what commitment means to me.”

  “Commitment means trusting that I will, not believing I won’t.”

  When she nods and her shoulders lighten, she leans closer. “The wires were crossed in a chain of painful events. I confused commitment leading to abandonment. That’s not everyone’s fate. That was my parents. I had no right to project that onto you.”

  Her arms come around my neck, and there’s only enough room for a small papillon between us. Juni says, “My parents lived a full life, lived for every day, and made the most of it. I thought they were selfish and didn’t want me. But they were showing me how to live all along. No tomorrow is guaranteed. And like Mr. Clark said, the only regret I’ll have is wasting time without you in it.”

  I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get another chance to have my lips against hers again. And she kisses me.

  When our lips part and she opens her eyes, she says, “I’m proud of you for accomplishing number three.”

  Left-field tangent. It’s good some things never change. “I didn’t understand what you meant when you held three fingers for me.”

  She comes down the final step and hooks her arm in mine. “You performed in front of an audience. It was a spectacular performance as well. Guy gets girl and then chooses his boring work over her.”

  “Destiny steps in, and he has a revelation.”

  “And what might that be?”

  I stop and cup her cheeks. “I love you, babe.” I kiss her again, and when I look into her eyes, they’re watery.

  “I love you, Drew.” Those are the sweetest four words I’ve ever heard. And I don’t know what’s happening, but something must be in the air because my eyes are watery as well.

  We don’t dwell on the mushy stuff as we walk down the street to take Rascal to the park, but I hold her hand, not just because girls dig it, but because I want to be the one on Juni Jacobs’ arm.

  I am Juni’s beau, after all. And maybe more one day.

  Definitely more.

  37

  Juni

  Five months later . . .

  “I don’t understand.” I stop in the middle of the sidewalk and look at Gil to help me make sense of this.

  Holding up the urn, he replies, “I have no idea. He left me Mrs. Clark. I don’t even know her first name.”

  “Anne.”

  We look at Drew standing with his hands in his pockets. The weather turned with the new month. Gil eyes the urn and appears satisfied by the grin. “Anne Clark.”

  I ask, “How did you know that?”

  “He told me the story about their wedding.”

  “Oh really? Was it romantic?”

  His arm goes across my shoulders, and he brings me closer to his side. “The most romantic.”

  Drew guides me by my lower back toward the elevator. “If you want to nap before tonight’s adventures, we need to get upstairs.”

  As soon as the doors close, I say, “I’m getting in bed, but I have no intention of napping. Would you like to join me?”

  His smirk never ceases to weaken my knees. His arms come around me, and he runs the tip of his nose behind my ear. “Thought you’d never ask.”

  We kiss, our lips caressing like the familiar lovers we’ve become. Drew’s been quiet most of the day. Not sure what’s going on with him, but I know he’s had some stress at work and, since I left, a few frustrations with the new reception assistant.

  Sitting in a lawyer’s office for hours isn’t exactly entertainment either, but it took five months for Mr. Clark’s wishes, jotted down on a scrap of napkin left on his coffee table, to work its way through the courts and be deemed legal. Today is a good day, though. Not only is Rascal officially mine but in a surprise plot twist, Mr. Clark also left his apartment to me. His son hadn’t been happy about that, but in the end, he realized that he hadn’t been present in his father’s life since his mom died, something he now regretted. More so because he realized that he’d missed out on those years of knowing his dad. He’d neglected to keep collecting memories worth sharing. Funny how death can teach us things.

  We’ve yet to decide what to do with Mr. Clark’s apartment, but we’re considering keeping it for CWM staff who have to travel to New York for business. So that, when possible, they can bring their family with them rather than leave them behind. Andrew’s certainly working harder at ensuring a better work-life balance for CWM staff and himself. No wonder I love the man so much.

  Living with him the past five months has given me a new perspective. My apartment, which I put on the market this week, might have reminded me of my grandparents, especially my grandma Marion, but I have the memories and our traditions and can take them anywhere.

  Spoiler alert: We’re taking them to a three-story brownstone right next door to Nick and Natalie. When the property came on the market, we didn’t hesitate. It’s a complete gut job, but despite my part-time research job at the Jacobs’ Garden, I’ve started planning the landscaping out back. It’s going to be magical.

  The “boys” have also started surfing together on Saturday mornings. Well, when it’s warm enough. Sure, The Rockaways, Lido, and Montauk have nothing on Southern Californian beaches, but it’s more about time spent and memories made than the peaks and surf.

  Just after midnight, a shower where we got down and dirty before we got clean, and a full Italian feast that I made to tide us over, we leave for our next adventure.

  I push forward to see out the tinted window. “Something’s going on at the library.” Even under my coat, goose bumps cover my arms. I turn back to look at my guy. Again, so quiet today. “Drew, look how beautiful it is.”

  Sliding his hand under my hair, he caresses my neck. “You look more beautiful than I’ve ever seen you.”

  I can’t help but remind myself of what I’m wearing. It’s not something I wear a lot, but the little red dress has come out a few times. “I could have sworn you’d seen me in this dress before.”

  “It’s not the dress, babe. It’s you.” Forget the flickering candles covering the steps, the orchestra playing La bohème. All of that pales in comparison to the love I have for this man.

  “Thank you.” I move into his arms, savoring the last few seconds of having him all to myself before the car comes to a stop.

  He asks, “Are you ready?”

  “Never more.” He might be nervous, but I’m excited.

  Holding hands, we walk along the sidewalk and then stop to see what’s going on. I ask, “Do you think they’ll let us borrow a step or two?”

  “Pretty sure they will.” He used to be grumpy. Now he’s always so cocky.

  Why does that do such naughty things to my body?

  He just walks up the center of the steps where an aisle was created with candles on either side. “Drew?” I whisper-yell, worried we might be crashing someone’s wedding.

  Reaching the first deck, he turns back to find me. “It’s okay, Juni.” His hand is out, and no one around seems to care, so I walk up the steps, meeting him there.

  After clearing his throat, he announces, “I’ll be reciting from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet this evening.” His eyes find support in mine, and every word is spoken directly from his mouth to my heart.

  “My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.”

  My heart swells in my love for this man. He’s reciting Shakespeare for me. Gah! So romantic.

  He once told me he’s fact and figures, but he would learn the other stuff for me. He’s an excellent student.

  He brought up the topic of checking off the fourth to-do on his life list a few weeks ago. He brought it up. Drew is changing, not for me, but for him. I knew it would be quite the sight to watch him unravel. I’ve not been disappointed one bit. “Mission
accomplished,” I say, giving him a hug. Still holding hands, I turn to leave and do a little dance on the way down. My excitement for him can’t be contained.

  “Wait,” he pleads. Bringing me back to the platform, he says, “I have one more for you.” His grip a little tighter, his eyes full of love. “Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.”

  “Trying to kill with the heart swoons?” I tease. “Me thinks Sir Christiansen likes being the center of attention.”

  “If that’s where you are, it’s where I want to be.” Digging something from his pocket, he dips to one knee. “Mr. Clark also told me if I want to marry you that I need to ask you.”

  “What?” The teasing is all gone. I look around suddenly, and some things don’t make sense. Like Gil, Nancy, and Izzy, Cookie and Corbin, Tatum, Jackson, Mrs. Hendricks, and Rascal being there. The only ones missing are—

  Natalie runs up the steps with her husband, and we’re showered in rose petals. I’m more of a daisy girl myself, but petals work. Their velvet softness is due to their cellular structure rather than the other photosynthesizing parts of the plant that— Well, let’s just say I get the appeal.

  “Juni?”

  “Yes?” I say to the man on his knee in front of me. I click my heels and enjoy this moment. It’s one I never dared to dream until I met him.

  “The first time we met was pretty shitty.” Ah, we’re peppering in some funnies. Look at my grumpy man. “But after that, I don’t know what hit me.”

  “Nice rhyme.”

  “Thanks.” His smile turns gentler, and as he holds both my hands in his with a ring box balanced on his knee, he says, “I knew there was something different about you—”

  “Geez, thanks. Should have left it to Shakespeare.” This time, I flash my winking skills at him.

  “Special. You turned my world upside down before the moment we met. And then once we did, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I’ll be honest, they weren’t all good thoughts.”

  “Touché.” I roll my eyes, though I relate to the honesty. Not all thoughts were good in the beginning. He was super annoying, in fact. But I’ll leave that to tease him another day.

  “But they made me feel. You made me feel for what felt like the first time ever. I don’t know what kind of magic destiny wields, but it was used that day and every day since. I wake up excited not just about the next adventure we’ll take, but because every minute I’m awake is another minute I get you. Today was about accomplishing goals, ticking things off a list of life experiences. Today was the day that I checked off two.”

  I run through the list that I’ve read a million times and committed to memory. See? I’m committing all over the place these days.

  1. Lie in the grass in the nearest park at 9:17 AM on a sunny weekday.

  Check.

  2. Eradicate negative vibes from the apartment on the sixth Thursday after arrival.

  Check. Check.

  3. Perform in front of an audience.

  Check. Check. Check.

  4. Read Shakespeare on the steps of the New York Public Library just after midnight.

  Check. Check. Check. Check.

  I gasp, my hands covering my mouth. Tears ping my eyes when I realize I’m number five. “I’m number five, Drew.”

  5. Fall in love like you won’t get a second chance.

  Damn that Christiansen smile. “You are. May I?”

  I nod like a crazy person with makeup running down her face because her manfriend never gave her the warning to wear waterproof mascara. Some friend he is.

  Slipping my hand back in his, he says, “I didn’t set out to fall in love, but sometimes the universe has a different plan. I may not have realized it then, but the day I met you, I fell in love like I wouldn’t get a second chance. You’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life—”

  “And eternity.”

  He chuckles. “And eternity with. Through chaos and sunshine, we can survive anything together. Will you marry me?”

  There it is, one of my biggest fears—commitment—wrapped with a bow and his heart on his sleeve. But now, because of my CEO Andrew and Ice Cream Drew, I don’t have that fear. Everything I feel for him can be summed up in one word. “Yes.”

  And then two because I do, which will make it official. But we don’t need to worry about that right now. That’s way down the road.

  Baby steps.

  Or so she thought . . .

  Epilogue

  Drew

  For someone who claimed she was scared of commitment, she sure did plan with this. The Jacobs’ Garden officially opened to the public. My stunning fiancée planned every plant, designed the garden, and wrote the book to sell in the shop in her spare time. During the days, she furthered her research on her initial findings, which exposed the dirty tactics of her ex-boyfriend when he failed to produce the same results.

  Sadly, I didn’t get to punch his thieving face. Maybe one day. Either way, it was a great day.

  Today is another.

  The garden is dedicated in honor of her parents, Daisy and Chris Jacobs. It’s taken healing and therapy, but Juni’s come to realize that their passion reached beyond them. It’s touched the world in so many technologies. She’s grateful most days, like today, standing in the garden.

  Others, she still wished she could have just had normal parents. Rubbing her tiny belly, she promises our baby that she’ll always be there. Even when they’re teenagers wanting to lock themselves in their rooms to play video games, she’ll be there.

  Can’t wait to see how that plays out.

  Right now, I’m living in the moment. The future doesn’t matter. I say, “I do.”

  Gil walked her down the aisle, but when a breeze blew in on this hot September day, nine seventeen to be exact, to match the time the universe and Cookie brought us together, she held my hand and told me she could sense her parents smiling down on her.

  Rascal runs in circles, making it really hard to get that ring from him. It was Juni’s idea to make him the ringbearer. When Jackson catches him in a grass patch, the ring is saved but not Jackson’s shoes, unfortunately.

  “Andrew, Mr. Christiansen, my Drew. You were uptight. Controlled. Meticulous. Regimented. Scheduled. Grumpy. Handsome. Kind. Generous. And loving. You’ve been my biggest cheerleader and my greatest ally. Not a day goes by that I don’t feel like the luckiest woman alive. I’m so in love with all of you. I love you so much it kicks.”

  “Kicks?”

  “Oh my God, the baby just kicked.” She shoves my hand on her stomach. “Can you feel it?”

  My breath catches just like hers when we feel our little baby kick for the first time. Just one small thing . . . we hadn’t told anyone. Her baggy sweaters had come in handy until we were ready, which was determined to be after the wedding. So when we look at our friends and family gathered around, we say, “Surprise.”

  “Jinx,” we say in unison again.

  Laughing, she says, “Double jinx.”

  “I didn’t know there was a double jinx.”

  She says, “The official rules state it can only be used in the case of a tie.” She shrugs. “I don’t make the rules. I just play by them.”

  She’s sounding a lot like me these days.

  Instead of cake, we celebrate our nuptials with pink strawberry donuts and a taco buffet feast because that’s what she was craving this morning. The caterer wasn’t happy, but he didn’t mind the big tip.

  Just as Juni finishes a donut, she dusts her hands on a napkin and asks, “Do you want to tell your mom about the science fair connection now?”

  “Another time. I’m rather liking this connection better right now.”

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you how cute it is that your first word was leaf. Leaf, Drew. That’s another connection. I said tree. You said leaf.”

  “That’s cute that you said tree since you’re a Juniper and all. But my first word wasn’t leaf.”

>   Holding me by the rolls of my shirt sleeves, she kisses under my chin. “Yes, it was, babe.”

  I angle my head down to catch her pretty eyes. “No. My first word was tie.”

  “Tie?” she spits in disgust. “Like what you wear with a suit?”

  “Yes. It’s a good first word.”

  “Not as good as leaf.”

  Okay, now I’m a little offended. “I’m not sure why you thought my first word was leaf, but it wasn’t,” I say, standing my ground. “Why did you think it was leaf?”

  With a glass of wine in hand, my mom comes to hug us. She says, “I could tell you two were meant to be the moment I met Juni.”

  Both of us look at Cookie at the same time, but Juni says, “His first word was tie. I married him under false pretenses.” She struggles to keep a straight face.

  I ask, “Why’d you tell Juni my first word was leaf?”

  She takes a sip of wine and winks. “Sometimes destiny needs a helping hand.”

  Wrapping my arms around my wife, I give her a kiss on those delectable lips and say, “It all worked out in the end.”

  “It sure did.”

  The End

  * * *

  If you enjoyed The One I Want, make sure to read/listen to Never Got Over You where you meet Nick and Natalie. This is a sweep you off your feet, feel-so-good epic romance. Click here for more information: Never Got Over You

  Or, you can turn the page for a sneak peek.

  Never Got Over You

  Copyright © 2021 by S.L. SCOTT

  All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the written permission of the author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.