“God, I love you,” he laughed as she headed to the kitchen.
When she was halfway, he added, “Hey, Jord.”
She spun back around. “What?”
“Nice hoodie.” He grinned.
She rolled her eyes again and mumbled something about crazy Husker fans, then got to work in the kitchen. He knew for a fact she now had a plethora of his alma mater’s T-shirts and hoodies. The fact that she still chose to wear one of his college hoodies made him grin. She looked ridiculous. It almost came down to her knees. But he wasn’t complaining one bit. He loved every second of it.
The day of the Super Bowl was finally here. Beckett was relieved. All that work surrounding the commercial was finally winding down. He was fixing his reputation. He was proving to Jordyn that they were worth it, and he finally was at a point in his life when he felt . . . happy. More than happy really. He wasn’t just getting by anymore; he was living in full color.
There was just one thing left to do.
****
She knew the commercial would play during the break between the first quarter and the second. And she was beyond nervous. Of course, the actual commercial they would be showing was the version without Beckett and Jordyn in it. They had wanted to keep the other for themselves. From the second version, Jordyn had taken a still shot of Beckett grinning after their kiss in the snow, then made it into a canvas she gave to Beckett as a Christmas gift. It was currently on the wall next to the mantle.
So much had happened in the last two months—or three really. That afternoon back in December, she and Beckett left right for her townhouse, which she immediately packed up to move. Blakely flew back to Nebraska while Beckett and Jordyn rented a moving van and got her stuff. Walt had included a relocation package that would help get her townhouse sold. It was so easy saying goodbye to the city life. She left Houston and honestly never looked back.
She had found a little run-down house in Picketts that she and Beckett began remodeling. She felt much safer here in Picketts than she ever did in Houston. And she had Zeus to protect her too. Not that he was much help, but at least she wasn’t ever alone, for the first time in her life. Almost every evening either she came out to Beckett’s or he came the eight miles into town to her place. And at least one day a week, someone random dropped by too, whether it was Aunt Rose or one of the Pink Ladies. It was a new feeling that sometimes took a little getting used to, but she honestly loved her life.
The AgGroSo office in the neighboring town of Homesteel was opening next month. She was insanely busy but excited about everything they would be able to accomplish from a location that was much closer to a vast portion of their customer base. And sure, she had to drive the seventeen miles there and back every day, but she spent at least seventeen minutes in traffic in Houston every day. And in Houston she didn’t get anywhere. This commute was much more beautiful. She got to see the clouds and the open fields as she went to work.
So it turned out she didn’t hate small towns so much. The one she was from had sucked and had burned her, but Picketts, though still far from perfect, had won her over. She loved this place. It may be in the middle of nowhere, but there was nowhere she’d rather be.
And as it turned out, she didn’t really hate football players either. Beckett was not her type, and that’s probably the reason why he was exactly what she hadn’t been looking for but needed.
They put down their plates of game food at almost the same time, knowing the commercial was coming up. Beckett had known she was nervous for it, which was probably why he insisted on them skipping the big Super Bowl Bash at Rose’s and doing their own thing. She was surprised but secretly pleased. She liked spending time with just Beckett. It reminded her of those first few days they were snowed in together when they went from strangers to tolerant of one another . . . to so much more.
She knew there was really nothing to be nervous about with the commercial. It was a done deal. The film crew did great. Marketing was happy. Walt was happy. Beckett was happy. It really was a great commercial that would honor the American farmer. And it was her first and last commercial. Or at least she hoped.
When the commercial started, she stood, just like it was an important part in the game. She listened to every word and tried to look at it with fresh eyes, like the average American at home would. What did they think when they saw this commercial?
She barely listened to Beckett’s voice-over—though his voice did sound good on television, she had to admit. And then, before she had time to really fret over what the impression of the commercial would be, the thirty seconds were up, and the commercial was over.
Thank goodness she worked in data and not marketing. She was ready to be done with this commercial business. Well, everything but Beckett anyway.
Thinking of him, she realized he was super quiet for his big commercial debut.
“Did you—” The words caught in her throat as she spun around to talk to him.
There he was. On the living room floor by the couch they’d spent so much time on while snowed in together. And he was on one knee. With a little box.
No flipping way. If there were earrings in that box, she was going to deck him.
“Jordyn, I love you,” he said, piercing her with his gaze. “I know it’s only been three months since we met, but I’m tired of two separate houses. I’m tired of you spending a minute of your day somewhere other than work or here. When we got snowed in together, I got a small glimpse of what life with you as a wife could be like, and it was freaking spectacular.” He stopped to grin, his dimple sweetening the deal. “My heartbreaking days are over. I just want to wake up every morning next to you. I want to give you my last name and start a family with you. Please say you’ll be my wife. Please marry me. Please get snowed in with me every year, for forever.”
She didn’t have words, only tears. And he didn’t even ask (again), but he did say please.
“We’re a team, Houston. Don’t let me down now,” he said, noticing her lack of words.
She sniffed loudly and took a deep breath, feeling her chin quiver. “Of course I’ll marry you, you idiot! Now get over here and kiss me.”
The End
Acknowledgments
Thank you, God. With you I can achieve infinitely more than I thought possible. My hustle, your pace. Therefore you definitely deserve every speck of the glory. I was in the middle of a move across the country with three children five and under when you put it on my heart to get this book ready. I didn’t know if it would even be possible. Or if I wanted it to be. Yet here we are. You eat impossible odds for breakfast. And you keep my head above water. Always. Maybe I should take the time to listen more often, eh?
A huge thank you to my husband and boys. I am surrounded by handsome men and can’t imagine life any other way! Thanks for believing in me even when I don’t, babe. Boys, you are the best things I’ve ever done. I used to dream of what my family would be like someday. Reality is so much sweeter. Being your Mommy is the greatest honor and privilege of my life! Thank you for teaching me what unconditional love is supposed to look like. I love you all! Thank you for supporting me and loving me even when I have crazy dreams and aspirations.
My writing assistant Bubba Gump, the English Bulldog. I don’t even know how to work without your snoring as background noise. Thanks, Bubbers. Just work on the gas though, k?
My betas and writer nerds. You heard me complain a ton these last few months about a new genre and the doubts threatening to drown me. Thanks for helping me through it. Thanks for being there to listen. And for not telling me I’m being absurd even when I am! Melissa, you specifically saved my arse big time with this book. Thank you for always being honest and always having ears to hear. Your old, sensitive soul has made me a better writer and a better person. Sam, thanks for always being in my corner and having my back, whether it’s if I’m having a bad mom day, or being my promoter, or making me bomb teasers. You are thee best. Looking forward to that writing retrea
t, y’all. On Sundays, we wear blue!
My editor. Andrea, you are the MVP this time. Oh my gosh. All my fears about finding an editor and if he/she would be a good fit or not went right out the window with the sample chapter you edited for me. Thank you for helping me polish this story into something more enjoyable. Your hard work is appreciated! You are a sweet tea in a sea of editorial lemonades. :)
The cover designer. Thanks, Jessica. You took my vision and made it a beautiful reality. I’m in love! I was so nervous, and even the first draft had so very little wrong with it!
All of our extended family and friends who pose as my marketing team. Your love is felt and appreciated. Thank you!
And a special shoutout to my Grandma Patti. Glenda was not hard to write at all since I grew up with someone an awful lot like her!
MY READERS. You. You reading this right now. Thank you for fueling my dreams. My readers are some of the kindest, smartest people on the planet and I will never tire of bragging about y’all. Thanks for sticking with me through the risk of trying out something different. I promise we will be back to huge novels like you’re used to soon. I have lots planned for y’all. *Squints off in distance looking for another cliff to take you off of . . .*
Author’s Bio
Tricia Wentworth began writing at a young age but didn't realize it was her jam until after college. Truth be told, she’s more of a reader than a writer. She currently resides in Nebraska with her husband, three sons, and English bulldog. When not reading, writing, or momming, she can be found squeezing in a run or feeding her sugar addiction by baking something ridiculously delicious.
She is currently working on the spinoff to her YA trilogy as well as the next book in this series, which will follow Blakely, Beckett’s sister.
Be sure to follow the author for release updates and teasers. Her Facebook page is where she is most active.
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Link to YA series: The Culling
Snowed In Page 22