by Kelly Oram
Brian’s head snapped to me, eyes shining with childlike excitement. “What? You did? Did they say yes?”
I laughed again. “They were very flattered to learn that Brian Oliver was a huge fan and honored to be Cinder and Ella’s first adventure into professional sports. I may have to shake some pom-poms in a Green Bay cheerleading outfit and you might get creamed by their offensive line once or twice, but yes, this week, Cinder and Ella are going to a day at training camp with the Green Bay Packers. They’ve invited Doug and Liz as well.”
After a shared look of shocked excitement with Doug, Brian was back across the room in two giant steps and scooped me into his arms, carefully holding me against his chest as he lifted me off the ground and twirled me around once. “You beautiful woman! You are the best girlfriend ever.”
“I know. Now put me down so Liz can open her gift, too.”
After Brian and I were seated again, which didn’t happen until after he’d kissed me enthusiastically enough to make me blush, he pulled me tightly to his side and turned his attention to his mother.
The look on her face before she tore the paper away from her gift suggested she was a little worried there might be a second signed football jersey waiting for her. Her gasp when she saw what it was was worth it. “Oh, Ella!” She covered her mouth with her hand, and tears pooled in her eyes. “It’s so beautiful.”
She held the large framed collage from our fairy-tale photo session with Nash Wilson up to show Doug and Brian. The photos had turned out more magical than I could have imagined. We’d gone to the Redwood forest in northern California for the shoot. I’d never been there before, but the place had to be one of the most mystical and wild places on Earth. It was simply breathtaking and my new favorite place in the whole world.
Doug whistled, and Brian sucked in a breath. “I want one of those, too,” he muttered.
I snickered. “Is there anything you don’t want?”
“Lots of stuff,” he said absently, his eyes locked on the picture collage. It was a combination of some of the best group shots, couples shots, and solo shots of both Brian and me. He was on his feet again and back to his mother’s side. He knelt down to get a closer look at the collage. Pointing to the frame, he shook his head. “This is not a want. I need one of these.”
My favorite picture from the entire shoot was actually one of just me. I sat atop a huge downed tree trunk in the thick of the wild forest. A single beam of sunlight penetrated the trees and shone down on me like a spotlight. Nash had given me large, pointy ears and huge, glittery gossamer wings tinted an ice blue. He’d dressed me in the tiniest little blue skirt and top that was really nothing more than a binding to cover my breasts and a skirt that would make Tinker Bell blush. He’d given my hair a wild windswept look and weaved tiny blue flowers through it. I’d never seen anyone look more beautiful. It was hard to believe the creature in the picture was me.
I was sitting in a fetal position and the picture was taken in profile, but my head was turned toward the camera, and I was looking up through my eyelashes. Nash had been right; my eyes popped, making me look magical. The greatest thing about the photo was that the rough texture of my scars was actually complemented by the bark of the old tree, making me look as if I were a part of nature itself, like some kind of forest faerie goddess. That photo was going to be the cover of my book.
Nash had unveiled the photos in his gallery in April. Mr. Buchman had helped Nash and me put together a huge event for it where I gave my first speech about my experiences and what the photos meant to me. Nash’s photos and my speech had earned us a cover and an in-depth interview in Time Magazine.
“Seriously, Ella. I have to have one of these,” Brian said again.
“Good. Now I know what to get you for your birthday.” I actually already had a different set of three framed collages for us to hang above the living room couch in the apartment.
Brian frowned. “That’s three weeks away.”
I laughed. “You’ll survive, you big, spoiled man. Why don’t you worry about the present you have now instead?”
I held up the small box that he’d set down next to me when he’d gone to look at the photos, and gave it a small shake. Brian flashed me a bright smile as he returned to my side and took the box. He started to open it again but paused and frowned at me. “I don’t have anything for you.”
I laughed. “You already gave me my gifts. Plural. Remember? A whole trip to Boston, among other things. I don’t need anything else.”
Brian’s frown deepened. “That’s not the same. I didn’t actually give you a gift last Christmas, either, if you recall. You should have told me about this do-over. I would have come up with something awesome.”
“It’s fine, Brian. I don’t need a gift.” A wry smile crossed my face, and I smugly sang the line from my new least-favorite Christmas song. “All I want for Christmas is you.”
Brian narrowed his eyes at me and squished his face up into a grimace. “Was I really that annoying?”
I burst out laughing. “Yes! For weeks. You totally deserve this. Now open your present already.”
He tore the paper off and raised his eyebrows at me when he found the signature baby-blue box from Tiffany’s. I only grinned in response to his unasked question. He opened the box and got even more curious when he found the ring box inside. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from giggling when he opened it and frowned at the ring inside. “You got me an engagement ring?”
“Oh no,” I chirped, trying as hard as I could to keep my composure. “That’s for you to put on my finger.”
When his eyes flashed back to mine, I waggled my eyebrows. “Guess you got me something after all.”
His hand fell to his lap, ring all but forgotten as he stared at me with wide eyes. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
I brushed off the question as if it was the silliest one he’d ever asked. “Heavens, no. That’s your job. I’m just dropping a subtle hint that I might be ready for you to do that. Whenever you’re ready, of course.”
Once Brian got over his shock—which took a good fifteen seconds—his lips quirked up into a crooked smile, and he held up the ring. “This is your idea of subtle?”
“Subtle is relative. It all depends on the density of the person needing the clue.”
“I am not dense. You’re the one who refused to move in with me and gave me all those lectures about how you weren’t ready for serious grown-up things like marriage and babies.”
“Oh, I’m still not ready for the babies,” I promised quickly, ignoring the small huff of disappointment that came from Liz’s direction. “But the marriage thing I could do, and the new house, too, as soon as my lease is up and we find a place we like.”
Brian’s eyes glossed over, and his mind wandered into some fantasy of his. He’s always had this fascination with the idea of our twisted Hollywood version of the American dream. Movie premieres and awards ceremonies mixed with the kids and the white picket fence. And a cat. Not a dog. Which I happen to think is adorable. My big old strong, dominant man loves cuddly little kitties.
“We’ll call the real estate lady as soon as we get home,” Brian said. “She’ll be happy that I’m finally ready to look for a place seriously.”
He’d been on the hunt for a place that was friendlier to my needs when I’d first moved out of my father’s home, but he’d given up the search once I moved into my apartment. “We should probably wait until we get back from New Zealand,” I reminded him.
Brian was scheduled to film the rest of the Cinder Chronicles movies starting in August, right after his birthday. The first film had done so well—broken box office records—that they’d automatically green lighted the rest of the series. They were filming them all at the same time to save on production costs, which meant Brian would be on location in New Zealand, where they’d filmed the first one, for roughly the next eight months. I was going with him, of course, and I was crazy excited to get to travel out o
f the country for the first time in my life. We were leaving right after his birthday. I could do most of my work with my website online, and Scott would still be in L.A. to take care of anything that had to be done from home.
“Fine. But it’s the first thing on the agenda when we get back. You promise?”
“Promise.” I grinned and picked up his hand—the one still holding my engagement ring. “So, about this ring…”
Brian’s crooked smile returned, and he raised one eyebrow into an arch. “I thought you weren’t asking me to marry you.”
“I’m not.” For once, I managed a completely innocent look. “I’m simply explaining my gift to you. Read the engraving on the band.”
Brian focused on the ring, noticing for the first time that it had tiny words scrawled into the band. When he read them, his smirk grew. “And they lived happily ever after.”
I finally let myself grin the way I’d been dying to. “That is my gift to you.”
“Happily ever after?” he clarified.
I nodded, smirking again. “Assuming you quit diddling and ask me to marry you, already.”
I wiggled my hand at him as if he should stop wasting time and slip the ring on my finger. The move earned me Brian’s stern I’m-Brian-Oliver-and-I-bow-to-no-man look. “I don’t ask for things; I make demands,” he said, puffing out his chest and folding his arms tightly across his chest. “And, I’m not going to propose just because you told me to. You are so unromantic. I’m going to plan out the most creative, beautiful, epic, romantic proposal ever.”
I met his gaze and lifted an eyebrow, shaking my hand again, stubbornly waiting him out. He narrowed his eyes and folded his arms defiantly across his chest. Giggles drifted to us from across the room, but we ignored our audience, refusing to look away from each other’s stare. He broke first. “Fine,” he said with exasperation. “But I’m eating your pie for this.”
I laughed, but adrenaline shot through me as he got down on one knee in front of me and took my hand in his. I grinned at his mother over the top of his head, happier than I could ever remember being, and she beamed a brilliant smile back at me.
“Ellamara Valentina Rodriguez,” Brian purred in that deep voice that I loved so much.
When I met his gaze, he gave me the most loving smile. Maybe I’d planned this, but it was still the most perfect moment ever. I waited with bated breath to hear whatever over-the-top romantic silver-screen-worthy proposal he would come up with. He paused for a good five seconds, no doubt for dramatic effect, and then his lips twitched at the corners. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he said, “Marry me, woman.” And yes, it was definitely a demand.
So much for cheesy movie romance. I actually snorted and burst into laughter, saluting him. “Yes, sir!”
When I finally settled down, Brian was still kneeling in front of me. I flashed him a grin so giddy he rolled his eyes at me as he slid the ring on my finger. I admit, I got really girly then and squealed a little bit.
Brian finally lost his composure and laughed, shaking his head as I examined the ring on my hand for a moment. “Look at that; it’s a perfect fit,” I teased.
“Shocker,” Brian deadpanned.
I laughed as he stood and pulled me to my feet. He stopped my giggles with a kiss, and that seemed to be the signal that it was okay for Liz to finally interrupt us. She tackled us before we even broke our kiss. “Oh, I’m so happy! Congratulations! I can’t believe my baby is getting married!”
The hugs and kisses and tears started and didn’t stop until Doug intervened on our behalf. “Liz, calm down. Give the poor kids a moment to themselves.”
“But Doug—”
“Liz.”
I giggled when the command actually made Brian’s mother stop her fussing. I hadn’t realized the old softy had it in him. He winked at me and then took his wife’s hand. “Why don’t we go cut the pie now?”
She huffed, but when Doug didn’t relent, she threw her hands up in defeat. “Oh, all right.”
Brian had me back in his arms before his mother was out of the room. “I love you,” he whispered.
I slid my arms around his neck. “I love you, too.”
He gave me a quick kiss and then surprised me with a frown. “Not that I didn’t love my surprise, but you really should have given me the chance to get you something, too.”
“You give me gifts all the time.”
“So?”
Brian had told me when we first got together that I should be prepared to receive gifts on a regular basis. He’d delivered on that warning. No one loved giving gifts like Brian did. I loved that he was so generous even if he did go overboard way too often. I was sure it was killing him that I’d finally had the chance to get him something when he didn’t have anything to give in return. But that had all been part of my plan, too.
“I’ll tell you what,” I said, stepping out of his arms and taking his hand in mine. “There is one thing I want that you can give me tonight. If you’re really so desperate to give me a gift.”
“What?” he said eagerly. “Anything.”
A smile crept over my face as I leaned in and whispered exactly what I wanted from him. And since I knew how much he appreciated a little talk, I was very specific.
Brian sucked in a sharp breath, while I giggled again. When I pulled back, he stared at me with eyes as big as baseballs. After a moment, he swallowed hard, licking his lips as if his whole mouth were suddenly as dry as the desert. “Are you sure?”
My whole body was full of nervous flutters, but I was ready. Very, very ready. I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him a small kiss. “I already told you,” I said. “All I want for Christmas is you. I meant it.”
He blinked twice and then threw his mouth on mine as if he was ready to make it happen right here in the living room.
“Brian! Ella! Dessert is ready!”
Brian broke the kiss, chest heaving and eyes burning. He glanced toward the dining room and then looked back at me. The conflict in his eyes made me snicker. “It’s just pie,” I whispered.
I’d meant that eating pie wouldn’t take long, but Brian took my statement as more of an It’s okay if we skip it.
“Sorry, Mom. Ella and I have to leave,” he hollered as he scooped me into his arms. “We’ll be back tomorrow.”
Liz dashed into the living room. “What? Where are you going?”
“Somewhere where I can make wild, passionate love to my fiancée without my parents down the hall.”
I really should be used to the man by now, but I still gasped in horror, and my face turned redder than it ever had. “BRIAN!”
Liz echoed my screech. “BRIAN! Don’t be so crass!”
“Sorry, Mom.” He was so not sorry. And he was walking toward the front door. “We’ll be back in the morning, promise. Er—make that the afternoon.”
“Brian Oliver, you stop right this instant. You just got here. Your…physical needs can wait until after you at least eat your pie.”
Brian opened the front door. “They really can’t, Mom. Just put it in the fridge for me.”
“Brian!”
“Liz, I think the boy is determined,” Doug said, trying and failing not to grin.
He was definitely determined. And as much as I was horrified that his parents knew where he was taking me and why, I didn’t have the willpower to put my foot down and make him stop. I peeked over his shoulder and shot Liz an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Liz. I promise we’ll be back for lunch tomorrow, and we can talk about wedding plans.”
That seemed to appease her a little, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brian cringe. Served him right.
He walked outside, placed me in the passenger seat of our rental car, ran back to get my purse and my cane, waved to Doug, kissed his mother’s cheek, grinning at her frown of disapproval, and then jumped in the car. “Was that really necessary?” I asked when he practically peeled out of the driveway.
“Yes.” He took my hand, twining
our fingers together, and brought it to his lips. “So, about the wedding…” When I looked at him with amusement, he grimaced again. “I don’t suppose you’ll be nice and let us do the Vegas thing before we leave the country? If I get a choice, I’d much rather have that for my birthday than the picture.”
I almost felt bad for him. Almost.
After a lighthearted laugh that bordered on obnoxious, I gave him my most pitying look. “Oh, sweetie, I am so sorry, but there is no way this Cinderella princess is starting her happily ever after without her fairy-tale wedding.”
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
Word-of-mouth is crucial for any author to succeed. If you enjoyed the book, please leave a review online. Even if it’s just a sentence or two, it would make all the difference and would be very much appreciated!
Thanks!
Kelly
Kelly Oram wrote her first novel at age fifteen–a fan fiction about her favorite music group, The Backstreet Boys, for which family and friends still tease her. She’s obsessed with reading, talks way too much, and loves to eat frosting by the spoonful. She lives outside of Phoenix, Arizona with her husband and four children. Connect with Kelly through social media: Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Blog.
Don’t miss the latest news from Kelly Oram. Sign up to receive e-mail notifications for all her new releases, events, sales, and giveaways. SUBSCRIBE.
THE GHOST OF YOU AND ME IS AVAILABLE FOR PREORDER NOW. CLICK HERE! OR READ ON FOR A SNEAK PEEK:
PROLOGUE
Trisha reaches over Chase Lansing and punches my arm because I’m frozen, still as an ice sculpture. It’s my turn. I want to bail. I want to run away screaming like the scared little girl that I am, but I can’t back out. Eighth graders are brutal. If they figure out how afraid I am or that I’ve never been kissed before, they’ll make this moment so much worse than it already is.