"I spilled my guts," I whispered to him as he scooted into the booth next to me.
He didn't stop his forward momentum until he smacked into me, sitting so close that the sides of our bodies touched from shoulder to ankle. I had been waiting to sit next to him like this for the last year-and-a-half, and the relief of finally having it happen made me want to collapse onto his lap just before we melted into one piece.
I leaned up and whispered, "They know I love you," in his ear, and he pulled back to smile at me.
"Do they know I love you too?" he asked, loudly enough for Lu to hear.
I knew she had because she gasped and sighed as if it were the sweetest thing she'd ever heard.
"They do now," I whispered, keeping my eyes on him. "What'd Theo say?"
Lane shrugged. "We didn't talk about the incident that much. I told him what happened, but he knows I'll handle it. I was mostly just telling him your room was about to be available."
Sudden change has a way of making a person get cold sweats, and I felt a wave of that at Lane's mention of leaving my room. Everyone at the table was doing their best to let us have a conversation, but they were all so curious about what Lane and I were saying that they were pretty much doing a terrible job of it. We didn't really care.
"What's the matter?" Lane asked, seeing my expression turn serious as anxiousness hit me.
"Nothin'," I said. "Just thinking about leaving S&S—you know, finding an apartment and everything."
"I thought you'd just move in upstairs with me," Lane said. "Theo's fine with it. He said he's surprised it took us this long."
I remembered overhearing their conversation the day I moved into the collective, and I smiled inwardly. Lu was obviously overhearing Lane, because she dug her knuckle into my thigh, urging me to say something back to Lane. Someone on the other side of the table must have been listening as well because I got a foot press from underneath the table.
"Somebody's playing footsie with me," Lane said, shifting to stare at the girls on the other side of the table.
Mia laughed. "I'm sorry, I thought that was Zoe."
"So you're trying to play footsie with Zoe?" Lane asked, making us laugh.
Mia's shoulders slumped. "Uhhh, no. I was trying to get her to say she was gonna move upstairs with you because she just sat here and told us the whole story about how she's been loving you since the first day she went in your office. How you two were holding out for her to finish her run at S&S."
Lane pulled back to look at me. "I don't think we're holding out anymore."
"You can thank Rhett for that," Lu said.
Lane made an expression that said he was wondering how he felt about thanking Rhett for anything.
"I can't just move into your house, though," I whispered. Maybe it was the small town-Texan in me, but even though I loved his apartment, I had an aversion to the thought of moving into it before we got married. "We'll talk about it later," I whispered, feeling shy about it.
"I knew you were gonna say that," he said, smiling. "So I went ahead and told Theo we'd probably be getting married. That doesn't mean we have to, I just wanted him to be prepared for—"
"Yes!" I said. I narrowed my eyes at him. "Wait, are you asking me? Is this a proposal?"
"Yes."
"That was horrible, Lane!" Lu said.
Without addressing Lu's comment, Lane turned to me. He stared into my eyes, letting me see the earnestness in his expression.
"It wasn't so bad," I said dazedly as I stared at him.
"I'll get on my knee and recite a speech if you want that."
"Do you have a whole speech planned?" I asked.
"We want that!" Mia said from across the table, causing Macy to elbow her.
"No, but I could think of one. And it would blow all their boyfriend's speeches out of the water," Lane said with a waving gesture at the other girls, making them giggle.
I leaned into him, pulling his arm across my chest like a big seatbelt, and feeling so relieved that I could hold him and hug him freely in front of people now.
"I don't need any speech," I said, grinning up at Lane. "I say yes."
Everyone at the table took that as their cue and began making conversation with each other. I leaned up and kissed Lane's jaw close to the spot that had been skinned by the sidewalk just a little while ago.
"I'm sorry you got a strawberry," I said.
He touched his chin, just below the scrape. "It makes me look tough," he said.
"I knowww," I said, running my fingertip along his jaw carefully. "As if this night weren't perfect enough, you went and got a battle wound. It makes me feel like I should take you home and wash it for you or something."
His chest rose and fell with a deep sigh. "I think we have to get married for that," he said.
I narrowed my eyes at him playfully. "For me to wash your face?"
He took my hand in his and touched his arm. "It's my elbow, (he moved my hand to his side) and my ribs, (he moved my hand lower, to his hip) and my hip, too."
I leaned back and gawked at him with a horrified expression. "Did you get skinned in all those places?" I asked.
He smiled and nodded. "This one's the worst," he said, patting his elbow. "It's about the size of a baseball."
"A baseball!" I said. "I do need to wash it for you! You probably need a poultice."
He let out a little laugh.
"No poultice before marriage!" Lu said, since she was obviously too excited to pretend to ignore us.
Everyone laughed at her joke, but I couldn't help but think about the feel of the side of Lane's torso. I wanted to look at him. I wanted to know where he'd been scraped up. I felt bad for him, but there was something hot about scars, especially those acquired in pursuit of a woman's honor (or her artwork). There was something altogether hot about Lane Alexander—scars or not.
I smiled at him. "How fast can we do it?"
"What, get married?" Lane asked, looking me over.
I nodded, and he shrugged.
"Probably right now if we wanted to."
Epilogue
Three months later
Texas
Fran's Beauty Shop
"And Lane and I got married the very next day," I said.
"Oh my goodness, sugar, when y'all were ready, y'all were ready," Fran said, backcombing Ms. Betty's hair.
I was sitting along the wall again, only this time Lane was sitting next to me. He and I had flown into Houston a few hours before and had made it to Fran's just in time to catch Ms. Betty's finishing touches.
We would spend one night in my hometown (at Fran's) and then travel to Austin for a couple of days before heading back to New York. I'd never been to Austin, and Lane and I both wanted to see it, so we decided to make it a little vacation.
Fran's husband, Dale, had prepared a big barbecue feast for our arrival, and they were having about thirty friends over. Had I not gotten slightly famous on account of that Netflix documentary, there probably wouldn't have been that much interest, but as it stood, the whole town wanted to come to Fran's for dinner.
I knew she and Dale were expecting the preacher and a few others from church, along with some of Fran's customer's and some of my grocery store friends. I was excited to see them all, and mostly happy and proud for them to meet Lane.
I wanted to come home anyway, so that Lane could see my roots, but I used the opportunity to take Fran her painting, which was worth slightly more now than it was before the spray paint incident.
The security footage that S&S released of Rhett's vandalism went viral, resulting in the second auction being even more successful than the first. Lane and I had just told Fran and Betty the story, and they were both still wide-eyed as they contemplated everything.
"She called and told me she got married," Fran said. "But I didn't know all that went into it. That's such an interesting story. What ever happened to that young man?"
"Slap on the wrist, basically," Lane said. "He actually tri
ed to sue us because the original painting number one—the one with the spray paint across it—sold for over twenty thousand."
"It did what?" Betty asked with a hand over her heart.
"Yes, it did," Lane said. "But he was crazy for thinking he had any right to it—that just shows you what an idiot he is. He's done at the gallery. He won't be back there."
I nodded. "Macy heard through one of her friends that he was moving away after that whole embarrassment."
"He did it to himself," Fran said. "I can't understand what would come over a person to spray paint over a work of art. Heartless vandals."
Betty shook her head, looking disappointed with the state of mankind, and Fran used her hands to force Betty's head to be still. "Sorry," Betty said.
Fran smiled and went right on backcombing.
"And that's what made y'all think of getting married?" Betty asked.
Lane put his big palm all the way across my thigh. "I was gonna marry her in August, anyway," he said.
"Crazy how your prayer got answered, huh?" I asked, with a smile aimed at Fran.
"That's not crazy," Betty said. "Prayers get answered all the time."
"Is he rich?" Fran asked.
I gazed at Lane. "You should see his apartment."
"Didn't you say y'all were in the same building as the artists and the gallery?" Fran asked.
I grinned at Lane before reaching up to kiss his cheek. "Yeah, but we're at the top."
"The top!" Betty said. "Well, I'll be!"
"And our yard is the roof," I said.
"Have mercy!" Betty said with great enthusiasm, causing Fran to smile and wink at us.
The door leading to the house opened at that point, and Dale peeked into the salon. "Hey Mr. Dale," I said.
"Hey Zoe. I saw y'all pull up, but I was checking on the roast.
"You aughta hear this girl's story, Dale," Betty said.
"She's gonna have to tell me."
"Well, you're gonna have to wait," Fran said. "She just finished tellin' it. We'll wait till everybody gets here, and she say it again to everybody at one time. We can get her a microphone or something."
"I don't know about all that," I said, shyly.
Fran leveled me with a disbelieving stare. "Well, if you don't tell them all at once, you're gonna have to tell it twenty times. You're a local celebrity, Zoe. They've already seen your movie on Netflix, but they want to hear it all in your words."
"I don't know," I said, shaking and feeling short of breath just thinking about it.
"What do you mean, you don’t know? You're a hometown hero, Zoe. They love you. They all watched your movie. You're gonna have to sign a few things."
"Sign a few things?" I asked, looking at Lane like I was horrified at the prospect of that kind of attention, which I was. "Do you wanna talk for me?" I asked him.
"I will, but you won't need me to. Just tell your story just like you said it to Fran and Betty just now."
I sighed, and Lane squeezed my leg before turning to Mr. Dale. "Mr. Mitchell, is there anything I can help you with?"
Dale smiled thankfully and gestured for us to follow him. "I'll take you up on that if you don't mind—and you too, Zoe."
We followed Dale from the salon into the house, passing the mudroom on the way to the kitchen. I could smell the food he was preparing, and I smiled, thinking it smelled like home.
"I really don't need your help," Dale said, stopping in the hallway. He pointed toward the door to the mudroom. I heard his dogs whining inside. "Be careful going in," he said. "There's a baby gate, but they're gonna be right there, jumping up against it and making it rattle. They're getting big."
"Who's getting big?"
"You'll see."
"Did Maple have puppies?"
He nodded. "Seven of them."
"With another bulldog?"
Dale nodded again. "Fran got really into picking a male. He's some show dog… that lilac color everybody wants."
"Are y'all gonna sell them?" I asked before we opened the door.
"Got 'em all sold but two. The other five are going to their homes next week. Actually, Fran said somebody was picking theirs up tonight when they came to dinner, but I forgot who she said it was."
"Are you keeping the other two?" I asked.
"One of 'em," Dale said. "The other one had sold already, but the man who wanted her called saying he got an unexpected job transfer to a different country. He was upset, too, because he had the pick of the litter—a lilac tri. Fran can hardly bare to put her up for sale again because she's so beautiful. But we're keeping a male. It's just too much with Maple and Minnie already."
"Who's Minnie?"
"Another little female Fran bought a year or so ago. She's outside. It's just Maple and the babies in here right now." He shrugged. "Fran's really gotten into this breeding lately. She's not gonna do it all the time, but she wants to have a litter every other year or so. It'll give her something to do while she's fazing out of doing hair."
"What about that female?" Lane asked. "What if Zoe falls in love with her and wants to take her back to New York?"
"Well, Fran would be tickled pink about that," Dale said. "She'd be thrilled to death."
Lane looked at me with a little shrug, and I grinned from ear to ear at the thought of taking a piece of Maple back to New York.
"We'd look good with a bulldog," I said, making him smile. "I need to see them," I said.
We opened the door, and the jumping, whining, ever-moving pile of excitement crowded at the baby gate trying desperately to get to us.
"Just step over them," Dale said. "There's a place for you to sit back there by the washer, and they'll settle down once you get in there."
"Oh, my goodness, I honestly do not care which one of these dogs is the one not spoken for or how much she costs… I'll take any of them—even you, Maple," I added, bending down to pat her on the head. I stood in the midst of them, letting them all gather around me.
"That little fat female right there on your left, yep, that's the one," Dale said when I put my hand on a grey and white angel that was pawing at my shoe.
"You're the one I love the most, anyway, huh?" I said, picking her up.
"Fran's gonna be so excited," Dale said. "She'll be so happy to repay you in some way for that painting."
I looked at Lane with wide eyes. "Are you sure?" I whispered.
He nodded. "I like her."
"I love her," I said.
"I'll leave you two alone and let you talk about it," Dale said.
"We'll take her," I called as he walked away. "What's her name?" I asked Lane as soon as Dale was gone. "Sylvia? Simone? Darlene? Vicki?"
He shook his head at me with an amused grin. "You can be thinking of a name while we eat some barbecue."
"Can you believe Fran said I need to say a few words?" I asked.
Lane tugged me toward him, and I landed in his arms. He gave me a mischievous smile, and I leaned to the side to set down our not-yet-named new addition so that I could fully concentrate on the man who still made my heart race.
"Yes, I can believe it," he said. "They're proud of you. You followed your dreams. You went off to New York and made it big like your dad told you. How many people can say that? Not a lot. That's why they want to hear your story."
"I only made it because you believed in me," I whispered, putting my mouth right next to his.
Lane kissed me once and then smiled before adding another. "You would have done it without me, but thank God I got to help."
"Yeah," I said. "Thank God you did."
The End
(till book 4)
About the Author
Brooke St. James is the bestselling author of contemporary romance novels with Christian and inspirational themes and happy endings. She was born and raised in south Louisiana but has had the opportunity to travel and live throughout the U.S. An avid reader, writer, audio book addict, and fan of all things artistic, Brooke constantly has her hand
s in some creative activity. She's currently back home in Louisiana enjoying life with her husband, children, and extremely lazy Basset Hounds.
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Other titles available from Brooke St. James:
Another Shot:
A Modern-Day Ruth and Boaz Story
When Lightning Strikes
Something of a Storm (All in Good Time #1)
Someone Someday (All in Good Time #2)
Finally My Forever (Meant for Me #1)
Finally My Heart's Desire (Meant for Me #2)
Finally My Happy Ending (Meant for Me #3)
Shot by Cupid's Arrow
Dreams of Us
Meet Me in Myrtle Beach (Hunt Family #1)
Kiss Me in Carolina (Hunt Family #2)
California's Calling (Hunt Family #3)
Back to the Beach (Hunt Family #4)
It's About Time (Hunt Family #5)
Loved Bayou (Martin Family #1)
Dear California (Martin Family #2)
My One Regret (Martin Family #3)
Broken and Beautiful (Martin Family #4)
Back to the Bayou (Martin Family #5)
Almost Christmas
JFK to Dublin (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #1)
Not Your Average Joe (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #2)
So Much for Boundaries (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective Book 3) Page 15