“She’s a smart girl,” Dad said, nodding his approval. “You guys doing okay?”
I hadn’t explained everything about the fake engagement to my parents. As far as they knew, we’d moved too fast and had since decided to slow down. They didn’t need all the details or to know they’d been at the center of so much.
“So far so good,” I told him. “It’s hard putting on the brakes, but I think it’s exactly what we needed.” Hard was an understatement. Every time I saw Amy now, I felt the draw of her body to mine, the magnetic pull of her heart creating a tension between us that everything in me was driven to try to release, even as I enjoyed the buildup. It felt like it had when I’d first met her, every nerve raw and vibrating in anticipation, except it was harder now because I knew exactly what I was missing.
“Smart,” my mother said. “No need to rush. You’re both young, and you have a lot going on.” My mother had taken to offering these kinds of platitudes, full of practical sense. It was a little bit startling, but I realized at the hospital that I wasn’t the only member of our family coming to grips with who I really was and what I wanted from life. Mom had been off her path for a while, too.
“I actually need to get going.” I put my fork down on my plate. “I’m taking Amy out for ice cream.”
“How romantic,” Elyse snipped.
“Wanna come?” I asked.
Her head cocked to the side as if she was thinking about it, but then she said, “No, thanks.”
I thought about pushing, but Elyse had been carefully withdrawn since the incident, and I think she was embarrassed that Amy had been the one to find her. “I’ll bring you a shake.”
Her smile flashed for a brief second as I got up from the table. “I won’t be late,” I told them as I turned to get ready to go.
“You and Rebecca ready for the presentation tomorrow?” Dad asked as I turned from the table. We were about to present our plan to the board for their approval. Without board approval, no one could replace my father in his position as head of McNeil. Dad had already agreed to our plan, and our presentation would offer a solution of placing Rebecca and me in positions of equal power with distinct responsibilities, allowing us to each work to our strengths. With Dad’s backing, I wasn’t expecting any resistance.
“We’re all set,” I assured him.
“Looking forward to it.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
I hopped in the car and pushed down the nerves that bubbled inside me whenever I was going to see Amy.
“Trent.” She smiled my name as she stood on the doorstep of the little yellow house, the porch light catching her hair and setting it aglow in shades of gold and burnished red.
“Hey,” I said. I strode up the steps and leaned in for a kiss. Amy had started out shy when we’d had our first “date” after everything had happened, but tonight, she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me back with a sweet, demanding hunger that sent spikes of desire through me. I ignored them and kissed her back as softly as I could. The last thing I was planning to do at this point was push. Amy was setting the pace this time. All I wanted was to be next to her. I’ll wait forever if I have to.
“Come in for a bit?” she asked, her eyes glittering.
I followed her into the little house, warmed by the soft yellow glow and sweet feeling of comfort the place always seemed to hold. We sat on the couch and caught up a bit, me talking about what would happen at work this week if all went well, Amy telling me about her first week of medical school.
“I’m a little worried there isn’t room for all the stuff I need to know in here,” she said, placing a hand on her head. “I’m already overwhelmed.”
“Your brain will fall back into the pattern of learning. Like riding a bike.”
“I don’t think med school is like riding a bike.” She scooted closer to me on the couch. Her voice had lowered a bit, and her eyes gleamed with what looked like mischief. I wondered what was going on in that pretty head besides making room for more medical facts. “There are other things I haven’t done in a while that I’m pretty sure are just like riding a bike, though,” she said, her lips lifting in a sexy half smile.
“Really? Like what?” Please let her be talking about what I think she’s talking about.
“I can probably show you. But you might have to take this off.” She fingered the front of my T-shirt, dipping her fingers under the collar, sliding them along my collarbone and then around the back of my neck.
Done. I pulled it off in a quick motion. The most we’d done lately was a brief make-out session in my car, and my entire body was alert the second she touched me, more than ready for anything she wanted.
“I might just take this off, too,” she said, standing and pulling off the sundress she wore to reveal lacy white panties and a bra that just barely contained her perfect breasts.
It took everything I had not to groan aloud in desire, and I found myself suddenly in front of her. I honestly didn’t remember deciding to stand and put my hands on her, but she melted beneath my touch, so I decided it had been the right move. I dropped my head to taste the skin along the side of her neck, beneath her jaw, my hands exploring the whole time.
“I know we talked about ice cream,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper on the skin of my neck. “So I picked some up earlier. I thought maybe we could just stay in.”
I did my best to restrain my clear eagerness for this line of thinking and stuck to confirming my agreement by pulling her closer to me and tracing a line up her neck with my tongue.
I slid a hand down her side, and she released a little noise as I pulled her close, something between a squeak and a moan. I couldn’t help the way my other arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her tighter still. I didn’t want to rush through what would be our first time since our short breakup, so I forced myself to take a literal step back, along with a deep breath.
“What’s wrong?” Amy asked, her adorable features arranging themselves into a worried pout.
“Absolutely nothing.” My voice was raw, and at my words, Amy dropped her hands to my waistband and relieved me of my jeans and boxer briefs in one quick motion.
“Bedroom.” She took my hand and turned, and my eyes stayed fastened on her. I’d follow you anywhere.
Amy fell slowly back across her bed, her long body stretched from one side of the dark blue coverlet to the other. I laid my weight over her, resting my forearms on either side of her head. For a moment, I stared down into the bronze eyes I’d begun to see every time I closed my own. There was a look there I hadn’t seen often, one I’d glimpsed before, but now it was solid. Amy was a mysterious girl, and her smiles and trust were hard won, which made them that much sweeter. And the look in her eyes told me I’d succeeded in winning her trust. I promise, this time I won’t lose it.
“I want you, Trent.” Her voice set me ablaze. Her beautiful eyes slipped shut. “I’ve wanted you since we met.” The fire blazed higher inside me, and I just hoped I could be gentle, that I could take this as slowly as she deserved.
“I want you, too.” My voice was a desperate rasp, animal and raw. “God, I want you.” My body was on autopilot, any hope of drawing this out gone from my mind. But Amy wasn’t slowing down, either, and as she tossed her head beneath me, she cried out my name, over and over.
If I could have frozen that moment and lived it for eternity, I would have gladly done so. But as my climax took me and Amy’s claimed her, something even sweeter filled the space where we were joined—something warm and affectionate. Something that felt like belonging and trust. Like love. Like home.
“I love you, Amy Hodge.” I hadn’t said it that clearly before. It felt right.
Her eyes opened wide, and for a moment, I wondered if I’d shattered the perfect trust I felt between us, but then her eyes slipped shut again, and in the faintest of whispers, her words returned mine. “I love you, Trent McNeil.” Then she made a comical face, scrunched her nose, and squinted one eye at me in question. “
Will you marry me?”
I couldn’t help my reaction. I pushed myself up on my forearms again to get a clearer look at her. “What?”
“Marry me,” she said, her face clearing. “For real.”
“You’re not supposed to propose. I am.” I shook my head. “And we’re taking things slow, remember?”
“Screw slow. I want this. I want this every day. I want you by my side, in my bed. I want you, Trent. Let’s get engaged for real.”
Hold on. Don’t act on impulse. Rolling to the side and propping myself on one elbow, I studied her carefully but saw no sign of a joke or any impending regret. “I’d love to. But I don’t want to get in your way. You’re finally on your own path, doing what’s important to you. You need the freedom to focus on that, to follow your dream. I can support it… I mean, God, I’d like nothing more than to be at your side as you take hold of the life you deserve, to support you through it. I just don’t want to slow you down.”
She sat up and made another face. “That’s all I want,” she said simply. “You wouldn’t be in the way. You’d be next to me, and I’d be next to you. We’re both starting on new paths. Let’s do it together.”
“You said ‘screw slow,’” I said, unable to keep from pulling her on top of me as my heart filled with contentment. “We just did it fast. Maybe now we should screw slow.”
She slapped me playfully on the chest, but then her smile widened mischievously, and she began to trail warm kisses down my chest. “First, you have to answer my proposal,” she whispered against my flesh. “And then we can screw slow.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Amy
I hadn’t planned to propose to Trent that night at my house. It had honestly been the furthest thing from my mind. Until it wasn’t. After he accepted, we planned our own engagement party. It began early in the morning in the basket of a hot-air balloon rising up over the Temecula Valley. Trent and I held each other as we took in the trundling hills and undulating ocean beyond us, breathing the sweet, cool air and sharing a mimosa. It was fitting that our first real engagement event was the one thing I’d always wanted to do, and the one thing Trent had tried to give me before. It was even more fitting that it was a moment shared between just us.
The party we had that evening was small and intimate. We had it at Dani’s shop in Ocean Beach. Rob and the guys from the firehouse clustered around us, and Amber, Dani, and my grandmother’s best friend, Britta, made toasts to our happiness. Trudy, Hank, and Elyse came as well, and even Rebecca made an appearance, pulling me aside to tell me how happy she was for us. As she spoke, I decided there was a chance I could actually like the gorgeous woman. After all, Trent had pretty good taste.
At one point, I saw Rebecca and Chad—one of Trent’s buddies from the station—chatting with their heads close together.
“I thought that might be a good fit.” Trent grinned when I pointed it out, and I smiled up at him. I liked the way he looked out for his friends.
It was a beautiful night, but the best part was when Trent and I slipped out of the crowd and sat together on a comfy vintage couch off to one side.
“I love you, Amy,” he said, toasting me with his champagne flute.
“I love you, too.”
“Thank you for everything,” he added, an arm around my shoulders.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Like what?”
As his fingers rubbed slow circles over my shoulder, he pulled me close. “For letting me find my way to you, for standing by me while I did. For your patience and your trust. For your faith.” He was staring at me now, those warm soft eyes gleaming.
I leaned in to him and nestled into the warmth of his solidity. As I absorbed his nearness and the sweet laughter of the people we both loved, I felt a tightly wound chain unspool inside me and release. For the first time in my life, I allowed myself to close my eyes and relax completely, because finally, I’d arrived home.
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Acknowledgments
This book is the product of lots of effort by lots of people, but most especially my patient and tireless editor, Heidi Shoham. Thanks, Heidi, for believing in me and for being willing to teach as we go along. Thank you, Nalini Akolekar, for taking a chance on me and always listening. Thanks also to those who always say yes when I ask them to read, for the other authors who support and encourage me each day, and to everyone at Entangled who works hard to help authors realize their goals.
I’d also like to thank my husband and my sons, who allow me enough time away from them to pursue my dreams. I know they share my belief that we all need time and space to chase the things that make our souls happy, and I hope I can give that to them, too.
About the Author
Delancey Stewart writes contemporary romance from her home outside Washington D.C. In a house populated by two tiny pirates and one full-sized Marine aviator, inspiration for her heroes is never hard to find—though quiet time to write often is!
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