Finally My Happy Ending (Meant for Me Book 3)

by St. James, Brooke

  I said the words, "The end," as I placed the papers back into my folder. Everyone in the room burst into applause. I looked around with a smile as they all clapped and whooped and hollered.

  Brock was taking it all in—smiling at their reactions.

  Once the applause died down, Thomas slapped a hand to his forehead. "I knew they were gonna kiss!" he said, laughing.

  Mary Katherine leaned into him, causing her shoulder to nudge his. "There's nothing wrong with that," she said with a serious expression.

  "Is that all the story?" Benji asked.

  "Yep, that was it," I said. "Did you like it?"

  "All but the kissing," he said, agreeing with Thomas.

  "I liked the kissing part the best," a student named Samantha said, taking up for me.

  The students and parents began standing up in preparation to leave. Everyone started talking at once. Most of them came up to tell me how much they enjoyed the story. A few of them asked about their own work, wondering if I liked it and what sort of grade they got. I told them I absolutely loved their stories and everyone had gotten an A plus.

  It took a few minutes for all of the students and parents to make their way to the door. Claire, Thomas, Mary Katherine, and Sarah were at the back of the group, and Brock and I walked out with them.

  "So what are you doing here?" Thomas asked Brock as we walked toward the door.

  "I came to see Trish," he said. "I've been out of town for a few days and I was missing her." With that, he reached out and pulled me toward him. I stumbled, and he caught me up in his big arms. I took an unsteady breath from the rush of excitement.

  "Is Trisha your girlfriend?" Thomas asked, staring at us as if he never would have guessed such a thing. We had walked outside, but we stopped on the porch while Claire locked the door.

  "She didn't already tell you that?" Brock asked. He looked down at me with a playful hurt expression.

  "No she didn't!" Claire said with a huge smile as she turned around to face us after locking the door.

  Brock had his arms wrapped protectively around my shoulders, and Claire regarded us like we were the cutest pair she'd ever seen.

  "Is Brock really your boyfriend?" Thomas asked, looking at me.

  I smiled at his serious expression. He seemed as though he just couldn't believe it.

  "She's Kyla, and he's Grant," Mary Katherine said, elbowing him.

  Thomas's eyes widened as he stared at us.

  "She has red hair like Kyla and Brock looks like Grant, remember?" Mary Katherine asked.

  Thomas continued to stare at us, thinking about the story as he took us in. "I hope you don't get kidnapped and bit by a snake," he said.

  I let out a laugh. "Me too, Thomas."

  "I won't let that happen to her," Brock said. "Not again, anyway," he added under his breath.

  Claire looked like she might have heard his mumbled phrase, but she didn't bother asking him to explain.

  "Are you gonna marry her like in the story?" Thomas asked.

  "Yes I am, as a matter of fact," Brock said, "if she'll have me."

  I turned to look up at him, and he smiled down at me as he gave me a squeeze.

  "Are you really, or are you just joking around?" Thomas asked.

  "I'm totally serious," Brock said, smiling at Thomas. "I missed her like crazy the last few days."

  Thomas was known for crying like a baby when he was overcome with joy, and something about Brock's statement brought him to tears. His face scrunched up and he put his fist to his nose before letting out a long, wheezing wail of happiness.

  "Thomas loves it when things turn out the way he thinks they should," Claire explained rubbing her son's shoulder. "Cause I love both of them, and now they love each other—and now they're both gonna be related to me too."

  "They might not want you rushing them along, though, Thomas," Claire said.

  "We needed that," Brock said. He held up his hand for Thomas to give him a high-five. "You said all the right things."

  "I did?"

  "Yep."

  This confirmation made Mary Katherine step towards Thomas and stare at him proudly.

  "All right, we better get home before your dad comes looking for us," Claire said to Thomas.

  He looked at Mary Katherine and shrugged before placing a kiss on her cheek.

  She smiled and put her hand over her face.

  "I'll see you tomorrow at the Happy House," he said.

  She continued smiling as she nodded.

  We all began walking toward our vehicles. "Are you two getting married before next class?" Thomas yelled, pointing at Brock and me.

  I giggled. "Not before next class," I assured him.

  "If we do, we'll call you," Brock added.

  "Okay, don't forget to call me," Thomas said. "I want to come to that."

  We all yelled goodbye to each other from the street. I was still giggling as Brock and I walked to my car. I had been so taken aback by our conversation with Thomas that I was just now able to register the feeling of his arm around me. I rested my head on his shoulder as we walked, overcome with relief and happiness at the feel of being in his arms. Having him next to me sent waves of joy through my body.

  I shivered, more from the feeling of ecstasy then from the cold, but he still said, "We shouldn't stay out here in the cold. Are you meeting me at my house?"

  "Yeah," I said. "Do you want me to come over right now?"

  "Well, it's either your house or mine, but you're ending up at the same place as me."

  "I am?"

  He turned to fully face me when we got to my car. "Stop acting like you're not dying to see me," he said.

  I smiled. "I'm pretty much dying to see you."

  He took my face into his hands, and as if he couldn’t wait another second, he began to place kisses all over my cheeks and forehead. He must've kissed me 10 or 12 times before he finally stopped. I laughed with delight has I stared up at him.

  He smiled at me before groaning. "Just hurry up and follow me to my house so I can stop being apart from you already."

  Chapter 21

  I thought about Brock during the entire drive to his studio. The level of anticipation I felt about being in his presence again was out of control. I could still feel the sensation of his arms around me from when we were talking to Thomas on the front porch. I tried to remember the conversation we had out there, but it seemed like a dream. I followed him to his studio and pulled up next to him in the parking lot.

  I met him in front of our vehicles. He was carrying an oversized duffle bag and a garment bag containing his hanging clothes.

  "Is this the first time you've been home?" I asked, taking in his luggage. I stuck out my hand, offering to help him carry it, but he just smirked at me like I was being silly.

  "I went straight to the Happy House from the airport."

  We walked to the door together. He unlocked it, and we stepped inside. He sat down his bag so he could turn on the lights. There was a big, hand drawn poster on the floor that said "Congratulations," along with some balloons. He regarded them with a curious smile as he walked over to take a look. "My mom left these," he said. "She's all excited. We sold every piece of furniture at the gallery and took enough orders to keep me busy for a year."

  "That's awesome news!" I said. "I guess you're famous in Miami."

  "Not as famous as I am over at the Happy House. Over there, I'm a fierce Scottish warrior." He used a Scottish accent when he said it, and I gave him an impressed smile at how good it was.

  "You're a fierce warrior in real life," I said, still smiling at him. "Even if you're not really Scottish."

  "I wanna read that story sometime," he said.

  "You already lived it."

  He stood up straight, bowing out his chest as he stretched. "Not all of it," he said, smiling.

  I slapped my hand to my forehead. "I can't believe you had to walk in at the very end. There was lots of action and adventure before that."

/>   "The end was the best part," he said.

  We were standing a few feet from each other, and I just stood there and stared at him. His dark eyes where endless, and I wanted to spend the rest of my life looking into their depths. It had been a few days since he shaved, and my eye fell onto the dark stubble that grew on his cheeks and jawline. His face left me breathless. I literally forgot to breathe as I stood there and looked at him.

  "What were you saying?" I finally asked when I remembered he was the last one to speak.

  The corners of his mouth rose in a slow smile. "I was saying the end of your story was the best part. You know, the part where the guy gets the girl."

  "You think so?" I asked.

  He reached out and grabbed my hand. I thought he was going to pull me into his arms, but he didn't; he just held my hand in his as he continued to look into my eyes. His big hands where calloused but tender at the same time, and I felt warm and fuzzy as they wrapped around mine.

  "I missed you," I said.

  He smiled. "How bad on a scale of one to ten?"

  "Ten—at least ten."

  His smile broadened. "I'm sorry I couldn’t be in touch more," he said. "They had me going non stop."

  "It's fine," I said, shrugging casually. "It gave me time to write my epic Highlander's saga."

  He stared at me for a few seconds with a sweet half smile. "I did get you something," he said.

  I smiled. "You did?"

  "Yep."

  I thought it must be a t-shirt, or beach towel, or seashell. "What is it?" I asked.

  "I need to explain first," he said. He tugged on my hand, causing me to take a step forward. There were only inches of space separating us now, and I smiled as I looked up at him. He grabbed my other hand and clutched it so that all four of our hands were in a big group between our chests.

  It didn't matter what he brought back for me—it could have been a pinecone that he picked up off the side of the road for all I cared.

  "Let me start by saying that there were some girls in Miami who were throwing themselves at me."

  I laughed, but my stomach sank as I remembered the photos. "Thanks a lot," I said. "FYI, you might want to leave that part out next time."

  He smiled. "I can't leave it out. It's part of the explanation."

  "I'm not sure I want this explanation," I said, with a wary expression.

  "Yes you do," he said. "At least I hope you do." He took a deep breath as if gathering his thoughts. "So there were these girls who worked at the gallery, and they were around all weekend. I had meetings and stuff planned, but they were always around."

  I made a silly, screwed up face at him as if I didn't want to hear any more, but he just smiled and shook his head at me as he continued his story.

  "Anyway, they knew I had a girlfriend back home, but they still made themselves available, if you know what I mean."

  "I'm not sure I want to know what you mean, but go ahead."

  "I'm telling you all this to say that having them around only served to make me realize what a jewel I had in you. They didn't even know me for who I was. They just thought they wanted me because—I don't even know why they wanted me, actually. It doesn't matter, because all it did was make me realize how badly I missed you—how badly I wanted you."

  He took one of his hands from mine and used it to touch my cheek gently. "I missed your face." He touched my nose. "I missed your freckles, and your smile, and your eyes—I missed the way your eyes squint up when you laugh. I miss how comfortable I am with you." He paused and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. "I did not, however, miss the way you won't let me kiss you, and I vowed to change that as soon as I got home."

  "I missed you really bad too," I said. I took one of my hands out of his, and used it to touch the side of his face, much the same as he had done to mine.

  "I'm not finished," he said.

  "Oh, sorry," I said, smirking at him.

  He sighed. "Basically, those other girls only served to make me realize how badly I wanted you. I thought about it all weekend. I thought about how you were making us pretend we were just friends because you were scared of moving too fast, and I realized how ridiculous that was. I'm not trying to pretend I'm just your friend anymore, Trish. I'm not even really trying to pretend to be just your boyfriend."

  I glanced at him curiously, but he ignored it. "So, this afternoon, before I left Miami, I went to the store and bought you something crazy. I was planning on waiting a little while to give it to you so you wouldn't think I'd lost my mind, but after hearing that story you wrote and having Thomas bring it up just now, I figured I'd just go ahead and give it to you."

  "I know you didn't get me a ring or anything," I said since it was the first thing that crossed my mind. I felt embarrassed after saying it and half expected him to laugh at me.

  "I most certainly did," he said. "It's beautiful. I bought it from a world-class jeweler who happened to have a shop near my hotel. It's one of a kind just like you, and I'd love to put it on your finger and have you tell me you'll wear it forever."

  Our hands were interlocked again, and I couldn’t help but squeeze his fingers. "Are you kidding around right now, Brock?" I asked, smiling uncontrollably.

  He shook his head. "No. I have a ring sitting right there in my bag. I love you, Trish, and I want nothing more than to marry you. I want to know you're mine. I want you in my life—around me all the time. I want to hold you and protect you. I want you in my studio, in my bed."

  I took one of my hands out of his and used it to cover my face. It felt like I was dreaming. I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with him.

  "I know you love me too, so don't even try to act like you—"

  "Yes!" I said, cutting him off.

  "Yes to what?"

  "To everything," I said. "Yes to I love you, and yes to whatever you're asking with that ring in your bag."

  "I'm asking you to marry me," he said.

  I smiled at him and he smiled back. I loved the shape of his lips and I stared longingly at them.

  "So, is it a yes to that?" he asked.

  I nodded shyly and bit my lower lip. "But if we do it before next week, we can't forget to call Thomas and let him know," I said, joking around.

  "You read my mind," he said.

  He looked serious, and my eyes widened. "You can't be serious," I said.

  "Let me demonstrate something for you," he said.

  "What?"

  He placed one hand around the small of my back and the other one on the back of my head, and pulled me securely against his chest. He was huge and firm, and my breath hitched as he held me tightly but tenderly.

  He looked into my eyes for a split-second before letting his lips come down on mine. I opened my mouth to him the second we made contact. I had deprived myself so long that I was desperate and thirsting for him. He grasped the back of my head tightly as he thrust his tongue into my mouth. My body ached in unspeakable ways as he kissed me deeply. My knees grew weak and my body melded to him. His tongue entered me again, demanding my undivided attention and possessing me in a way he had never done before. I wanted him so badly. The level of desire was too much to bear, and I let out an uncontrollable whimper. He pulled back and stared down at me for a few seconds until his expression morphed into a satisfied smile.

  "See, I told you," he said.

  "What'd you tell me?" I asked, still feeling dazed.

  "That we should just go ahead and get married."

  I nodded. "I think you might be right," I said breathlessly.

  He bent to kiss my cheek and wound up placing tons of kisses all over my face just like he had done earlier.

  "I love your face," he said, in between kisses.

  I giggled. "I love your face too."

  Epilogue

  Brock and I were married by a justice of the peace four days later. We kept our word about calling Thomas, and he insisted on coming to the courthouse with us. There were a total of ten pe
ople at the spur of the moment ceremony with us, including Thomas, Shane, Emily, Micah, Carly, Ryan and our parents. (Leo did not come, but he did send a gift once he got word that we tied the knot.)

  We had a party two months later and included more of our friends and loved ones. Ryan and Chelsea were officially introduced at that party and have scarcely been apart since then. Thomas and Mary Katherine have scarcely been apart either. She's at the Happy House nearly every day it's open and spends most weekends hanging out at the Bennett's house.

  It had now been a year since Brock and I got married. I moved into the warehouse with him at first, but we've since bought a house together near Micah and Carly. We were basically neighbors now, which was convenient since our babies were due within a few weeks of each other. We decided we'd let them think they were cousins even though they technically weren't related.

  Our new baby already had another little cousin waiting for him when he or she arrives. Shane and Emily's little boy was just born a few days ago. They surprised everyone by naming him Thomas, which set his uncle Thomas off on a crying fit of epic proportions that reignited just about every time he laid eyes on him. At first, Micah teased his sister for stealing the idea since he wanted to use the name Thomas, but he and Carly recently found out that she was carrying a girl anyway.

  Brock and I were waiting until the delivery to find out what ours was. I had five months to go and wasn't sure if I could hold off, but for now, our plan was to wait.

  I had no regrets about marrying Brock so quickly. When two people are meant for each other, time isn't a factor. We were still passionately in love, and there was no doubt in either of our minds that we had made the right decision.

  He was handsome, smart, kind, strong, gentle, talented, and Godly, and he never ceased to amaze me. We had already been through a great adventure together, but that was just the beginning of our story. We had the rest of our lives to write our own ending.

  The End

  Thank you for reading the Meant for Me series!