by Tessa Teevan
It was my turn to laugh. “I think we did it right,” I told him, unashamed of how unabashedly proud I was of the path Jeremy and I had taken.
Sure, we could’ve gotten married and started our forever at eighteen, but instead, we had taken our parents’ guidance and assistance, and now, he was a twenty-one-year-old college graduate with a steady job, and I was nearly done with my nursing degree. Neither of us had any student debt, and we’d be comfortable as we began our lives as a couple. Like I said, relatively easy. Completely comfortable. Pretty much perfect.
“You did,” Dad said, interrupting my thoughts. “And I couldn’t be prouder. That kid, as much as I hated to admit it, was always going to be the one who’d put a ring on your finger. You couldn’t have picked a better man to love you, Sierra. As much as it pains me that I’m giving you away today, I know it’s to a good man, which lessens the pain a little.”
Tears pricked my eyes. “You can’t make me cry, Dad,” I laughed. “It’ll ruin my makeup.”
He leaned in close and placed a kiss on my forehead. “The guy at the altar? He wouldn’t care.”
“Just another reason to love him.”
He smiled and took a deep breath. Then he slowly exhaled and held his arm up, and I set my hand in the crook of it.
“Remember what comes after marriage, Sierra,” he said in a teasing tone. “I’m not too young to be a grandpa.”
I laughed even though my belly tightened at the prospect of being a mom. “One thing at a time, Dad.”
His eyes gleamed. “We’ll see.”
“How about you marry me off first? Then we’ll talk babies. In a couple of years,” I informed him.
He sighed. “I guess I can live with that.”
“Didn’t I tell you she couldn’t get married until thirty? I mean, I know you only passed calculus because of Sierra, but I thought you could at least do simple math. You’re a bit early.”
Nick was teasing—I was killer at calculus. And a cocky grin formed on my face even though I was nervous as hell on the inside.
Not that I had any idea why. Sierra and I’d been together for two-thirds of my life. Hell, I barely remembered the time when she hadn’t been there. This was just another normal day at the beach.
Except that it wasn’t. This day was monumental. It signified the beginning of everything I’d ever wanted. And, for some reason, it was…daunting as hell.
But probably not for the reasons you might think. I wasn’t worried about having a ball and chain or anything like that. No, I was fucking terrified out of my mind that, after thirteen years, Sierra was finally going to wise up and realize she could have any man in the world. Why would she want me?
Just as quickly as that stupid thought had come, a plethora of memories hit me like a tidal wave, drenching me with a flood of emotion. In my mind, I saw Sierra, eight years old, standing at the top of the steps, the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. I could hear her teasing me about Michelangelo. Then it was the image of Sierra in her homecoming dress, stopping my heart and tightening my pants from the sight of her all dressed up for me. Sierra launching herself into my arms and telling me that she loved me for the very first time. A million I-love-yous followed, and I heard each and every one loud and clear. And then I saw Sierra, sweet and sensuous, writhing beneath me as I made love to her, right there at that very spot. The sound of her panted breaths as she whispered my name played on repeat in my mind, and if it hadn’t been for Nick placing a hand on my shoulder and shaking me out of my reverie, I might have gotten hard all over again.
I laughed, all the fear draining from my body. Sierra was mine. She always had been. Always would be. Just like I was hers—for now, forever, and whatever eternity awaited us on the other side.
Where she went, I’d follow.
Always.
But enough with the mushy stuff.
“And I’m pretty sure I told you no way,” I finally answered, lifting my chin and setting it in defiance at my soon-to-be father-in-law.
Nick laughed, clapped me on the shoulder, and squeezed. His smile softened, as did his eyes. “You’re the only one I’d ever allow be the exception to that rule, Jeremy. I hope you know that.”
I returned his smile. “I appreciate that, sir.”
For as long as I can remember, he’d been Nick to me. Not Mr. Sullivan or sir, but in that moment, it’d felt right.
He nodded his appreciation. “I always wanted a son, and God changed my mind when he blessed me with two beautiful daughters who grew up to be two beautiful women. But, today, I’m gaining a son, and I couldn’t be happier. Because that’s what I consider you, Jeremy. A son,” he told me.
“Does that mean I can finally call you Pops?” I asked, grinning at the memory of the first—and only—time I’d tried calling him that.
“Absolutely not,” he responded with his own smile.
I ran a hand through my hair. “Look, Nick…I have to thank you.”
He started to hold a hand up, but I continued.
“You’ve changed my life. Not only did you create the beautiful girl I’m about to marry, but you took me in when you didn’t have to. I wouldn’t be standing here, about to marry the love of my life, if it weren’t for you and Vicky. And I know I don’t say it as often as I should, so thank you. Truly,” I said.
“Thanks aren’t needed, Jeremy. Just be good to my girl.”
“There’s no other option,” I replied.
“Then what’d you say we have a wedding?” Nick said, glancing at his watch. “You ready?”
“I’ve been ready for longer than you want to know.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Probably a good thing,” he responded. Then he walked through the gazebo and down the walkway to where he was about to lead his daughter to me.
To her future.
Our future.
As cocky as I’d been, I wasn’t prepared for the moment Sierra came into view. I was nearly knocked off my feet, ass in the sand, as soon as I saw her. I don’t know what it was. Every single day, I’d looked at Sierra and marveled at how beautiful she was, but this was different. She was dressed in a flowing, white gown that perfectly molded to her curves. Her smile was radiant as she approached. The white hibiscus flower in her soft, flowing hair gave her the appearance of an angel. My heart leapt into my throat, and I couldn’t believe it. This was my bride.
I was undone.
When Nick gave her a kiss on the cheek then stepped to the side to join our families, I barely registered he was even there. My eyes were locked in on hers, and I’m not ashamed to admit that they might have been swimming with the manliest of tears.
“Beautiful,” I whispered then leaned down and captured her perfect, pink lips with mine. I just couldn’t help myself.
A throat cleared, and I pulled back. She was smiling up at me, her own eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
“I think the kiss is supposed to wait until after the ceremony,” she teased.
I grinned. “Do I look like I care?” Then I turned to Chris, who’d gone online and gotten ordained for this. “Make it quick, man.”
And quick is what he made it. I was dying to kiss Sierra again by the time we got to the vows. When Sierra had insisted we write our own vows, I wasn’t sure what the hell I was going to say. I sat for hours trying to form the perfect poetic words, and frankly, I sucked at it. So after too many hours wasted and sheets of papers balled up, I decided I’d wing it.
“Banks, you’re up first,” Chris said in his usual laid-back style.
Taking Sierra’s hand in mine, I peered down at her, waiting for the nerves to come. This was it. I was finally saying my vows, and in just a few short moments, she would be my wife. But the nerves never came. All I felt was love. Excitement. Joy. And impatience. As much as I loved Sierra in that dress, I wanted to see her out of it. To slowly slide the zipper down as I kissed her bare shoulder…
I was getting ahead of myself—and getting hard in the process. Which Sierra noticed. Her eyes
grew wide as she bit her lip. I leaned forward and placed my mouth just above her ear.
“Not helping, baby. You know what that lip bite does to me.”
Her sharp intake of breath was the perfect opening for my vows.
“First,” I said, taking a moment to glance from Chris to Sierra, “I promise to never grow a mullet again without your permission.”
Chuckles sounded all around us, and Sierra’s shoulders shook with laughter.
“Hey!” Chris exclaimed.
I shrugged. “Sorry, man. Wife trumps best friend every single time. No more dares without Sierra’s approval.”
“I think I like where this is going,” Sierra quipped.
Wanting to get to the good stuff, I squeezed her hands and sobered up a bit. “God, I can’t believe we’re finally here. On this day. On this beach. In the very spot we met. It’s so surreal, and if I could spend hours explaining why and how I love you, I would. The truth is…it’s actually pretty simple. I love you, Sierra Sullivan, with every fiber of my being, and I always will.”
Her eyes shimmered again, and as one tear spilled out onto her cheek, I brushed it away with my thumb.
“I promise I will spend the rest of my life loving you. Every single day, I will make you laugh, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep that beautiful smile on your beautiful face. I live to make you smile, and even on our hardest of days, that goal will never change. After all, the sun rises and sets on your smile, and even though I should be, I’m still not used to those dang Ohio winters. But, with you there by my side, that’s all I need to keep me warm. I’d brave polar bears and subzero temperatures if that’s what you wanted. Because, I may be a broken record, baby, but where you go, I go, and that will never, ever change. I love you, Sierra, and I will for all of my days.”
It wasn’t the most eloquent or emotional of vows, but by the beaming, watery smile on Sierra’s face, I knew that it was perfect because it was all me. She sniffled, and when I saw Lexi dabbing her eyes out of the corner of mine, I knew I’d done good.
“Wow. Well, where to start,” Sierra said, laughing. “I guess I should thank you for not growing a mullet for our wedding day—no matter how much you wanted to recreate senior prom. There was no way I was wearing that dress again, and as much as I like John Stamos, I couldn’t be happier to be marrying Jeremy Jordan Banks, here, today, in this spot, in front of the people who mean the most to me.”
“MacGyver?” I questioned, and she rolled her eyes before softening them.
“I’d say that I can’t believe I’m standing here in front of everyone as I become Mrs. Jeremy Banks, but that would be a lie. Since I was eight years old, I’ve loved you and known you were the one for me. I sat down with you on this beach and never wanted to leave your side. So I never did. And I never will. After this, you’re stuck with me. This is your last chance to make a run for it.” She leaned in and placed her hand on my arm, gripping tightly. “But I’m warning you. I give good chase. Because it’s true for me, too, Jeremy. Where you go, I go. For the rest of my life, I want to be with you. Living. Laughing. Loving. You’re it for me, and you always will be.”
I placed my hand on top of hers and pulled her in close, moving my other hand to the small of her back. “Not going anywhere, babe,” I responded before leaning down and kissing her on her lips.
“Good,” she responded. “You’re my best friend, Jeremy. You’re my family. You are the greatest love of my life. I promise to cherish you, adore you, and laugh at all your jokes, and every once in a while, if you really want, you can get your mullet on.”
I smiled. “MacGyver,” I whispered.
She returned my smile. “I love you, Jeremy Jordan Copper MacGyver John Stamos Banks, and I always will. Now, will you finally put a ring on it so I can call you mine?”
So I did as she’d asked. I put a ring on it, Chris declared us husband and wife, and when I pressed my lips to hers, I sealed it with a kiss.
Sierra Banks was my wife.
Nothing could have made me happier.
2007
IT WAS AN ORDINARY night. I’d been on rotation, and it was my last night shift of the week. After four grueling years, I’d become a nurse, and now, I worked in the ICU at Good Samaritan Hospital. We’d lost a patient that night, and after I’d tried for hours to hold back tears, exhaustion seeped from my pores. All I wanted was to strip my scrubs off, take a hot shower, crawl into bed, and wrap my arms around my husband, stealing his warmth until he had to get up in the morning. Then I’d whine until he hit snooze for fifteen minutes. And then we’d have a proper good morning. The thought alone was enough to perk me up—at least a little bit.
I was thinking about what color teddy I’d put on when I was pulling into the drive. My hand hit the garage door opener, and I frowned when the light didn’t turn on. Strange, I thought. Jeremy was usually on it with the upkeep, and like a lot of ’90s kids, I was afraid of the dark. With silent trepidation, I parked in the garage, took a deep breath, and exited the car.
Ten and a half steps until I made it inside. No big deal, right? Except I was twenty-three, afraid of the dark, and not ashamed to admit it.
As soon as I stepped out of my car, I saw it.
It was lying there, shining, teasing, mocking me. On top of Jeremy’s car was the sixty-watt bulb that would usually be twisted into the ceiling light. Instead, someone had unscrewed it and put it on top of his car.
Someone had unscrewed the light bulb, waiting for me to come home into the darkness.
Oh. My. God.
Movement flickered in the corner of my eye. Even as I glanced over, my chest ballooned. In the far corner of the garage, a figure cloaked in black loomed ominously. As my eyes scanned up his body, a scream bubbled up in my throat. The face was covered in a mask, an exact replica of the one from the movie Scream. That Ghostface guy. The perpetrator raised his arm, and that was all I needed to turn on my heel and run.
Down the driveway.
Across the sidewalk.
Just as I was about to race up the neighbor’s lawn, strong arms wrapped around my waist, hauling me back.
I screamed bloody freaking murder.
Oh. My. God.
I was about to be stabbed to death like the usual stupid blonde in all of those horror films. I was going to be the Drew Barrymore, except I hadn’t even gotten the foreplay of a phone call.
Then a hand clamped over my mouth.
“Shh,” my assailant said. “It’s me.”
My body instantly relaxed, yet my heart was still beating wildly. I was in a daze as “Me” led me back to the house, and even when we got inside, I couldn’t look at him. I was too freaked out. Too pissed. Too worried I’d laugh if I saw his stupid grin.
Instead, when he twirled me around and gave me a cocky grin, my hand struck its mark, slapping hard, the sound echoing around us.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” he shouted.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” I echoed, tightening one hand into a fist that I shook at him. The other was on my racing heart, trying to catch the breath I’d lost with my screams. “What the hell was that, Jeremy?! You scared the shit out of me. How could you do that?!”
“I thought it was funny,” he said, struggling not to laugh.
“Funny?! I almost pissed my pants! I almost had a heart attack! I almost woke our neighbors up in the middle of the night because I thought a psycho was trying to kill me! How the hell is that funny?!”
His eyes softened at my rant, but his damn shoulders were still trembling from his silent laughter. What. An. Ass.
“I didn’t expect you to freak out like that. I figured it’d be a small scare, but you’d know it was me.”
“You figured wrong. You owe me at least a bottle of wine tonight, mister!”
I was still shaking as he led me to the kitchen. I was still shaking when he poured me an oversized glass of wine. I was still shaking after I’d downed two of them. I was still shaking when he pulled me into his arms, whispered he wa
s sorry, promised emphatically he would never do it again, and then carried me into our bathroom, where he proceeded to set me down in the shower.
He slowly washed my hair, caressing my scalp, giving me the most amazing massage that finally, finally, helped calm my nerves.
And all the anger faded away when he dried me with a towel, rubbed me up with lotion, and led me to bed. I should’ve shut him out. But I couldn’t. Not when he started at the balls of my feet, massaging every inch of my body until I was a puddle of goo. His hushed whispers of love as he spread my legs apart and slowly sank into me were all I needed to forget what he’d just done.
Our lovemaking that night was slow and sweet, and it set off a chain of events that would change my life forever.
I would never forget the night Jeremy scared the life out of me. Because he also gave me something that night that I would hold dear for the rest of my days.
Weeks had passed since the night I scared Sierra, and surprisingly, I wasn’t stuck in the doghouse. God, I was a lucky man. We’d been married for two years—two blissful, amazing years. Sure, we had our arguments, but for the most part, life was good. I was considered a rising star at the real estate agency, and Sierra was loving her job. We spent our days working hard and our nights living, loving, and laughing. And, of course, making love—which, of course, was on my mind that Friday night as I headed home from work. I’d just gotten a raise, and I was ready to celebrate. Sierra could put on that little, sexy, black dress, we’d go for dinner and drinks, and then I’d get to take her out of it.
A great Friday night to me.
“Jeremy!” Sierra’s shriek echoed through the house as soon as I entered through the garage.
I loosened my tie and smiled. I knew what she was doing. She’d been doing it for weeks. She was trying to get back at me for the prank I’d pulled even though we both knew I would always reign supreme on that one.
I mean, seriously? She had run screaming through the neighborhood. It. Was. Awesome. Not that I’d ever tell her that.