When Dad got down on one knee, he gave Mom a diamond engagement ring, but I’m doing the best I can. Two months–plus of my salary isn’t worth shit to begin with and what I had saved for Echo’s ring is now paying for the medical care of Abby’s grandmother. I don’t regret it, but it still doesn’t help me feel worthy of proposing to Echo.
But then I saw this ring. Dad told me people sometimes used claddagh rings as engagement rings. There are plenty of expensive claddagh rings out there with real stones instead of colored ones like the one in my hand, with real gold instead of sterling silver and that cost more than a hundred dollars, but this is what I could barely afford.
Echo says it’s the thought that counts and I’m banking on that. Banking she’ll listen to my story and will permit me to place this ring on her left hand with the heart toward her fingertips as a show that she’s promised to spend the rest of her life with me.
A buzz from my cell. Isaiah: You still there?
Me: Yeah.
Isaiah: You okay?
He knows how asking Echo to marry me without a diamond ring is tearing me up. Me: I’m going to switch it up and ask her tonight. I’ll try to come up with something romantic.
I close the ring box, shove it back into my drawstring bag, then arrange my bag so that it’s at the bottom of our beach bag.
A buzz: Rachel’s with me and we want to help. And suck it up, man. We’re helping, so deal. Rachel said one of Echo’s favorite memories was when you put roses on a hotel room bed. Rachel’s looking up a florist in town and will have roses delivered to your hotel room. Find a way to keep Echo out of the room and I’ll text you when the roses are there.
Emotions shift inside me. Isaiah isn’t just my best friend; he’s my brother. He and I, we don’t share how we feel. We flip each other off, tell each other to go to hell and occasionally tell each other to fuck off with a well-meaning grin. But this… How do I let him know how much this means to me? Thank you.
Wish he understood I mean so much more than that.
Isaiah: Anytime. Now go win over the girl.
The sound of splashing, and I look up to see Echo and Jane kicking their legs in the water. They are still sitting on the edge and Jane is still in her pink robe, but at least the kid is smiling. Echo glances up at me, and the pure happiness radiating from her face takes my breath away.
She’s the most beautiful and amazing creature on the earth, and one day, she’s going to walk down the aisle and pledge forever to me.
Chapter 5
Echo
In the surf, Noah chases me and I laugh as he tries to catch me. Waves roll in and they roll out, making the game we’re playing fun and complicated. My right foot sinks in the sand, I falter and Noah is able to slip an arm around my stomach. I squeal as he lifts me in the air.
A wave crashes into us, and we fall. Water fills my ears and my body floats in the current. Noah’s arm around me tightens and then we break to the surface. I gasp for air and I start laughing again. Noah spins me so we’re chest to chest. One of his arms pins me to him as if I’d want to escape this embrace, and with his other hand, Noah peels my wet hair off my face.
“I gotcha,” he says, and I weave both of my arms around his neck. Yes, he definitely did.
When my face is hair-free, Noah leans in and kisses me. He tastes of sea water and sand and his skin is warm from being in the sun.
Our bodies are slick and any slight movement amplifies the already-heavy edge of need that’s built between us throughout the late afternoon. Throughout the day we’ve kissed, lips lingering and nipping. Quick brushes of hands along backs, legs and thighs. Long hugs, waking naps in his arms on the beach, his nose nuzzling my hair and a tickling blowing of breath behind my ear—this constant and delicious buildup of what’s to come the moment we have four walls between us and the rest of the world.
Noah’s hands wander down; he lifts me by the hips and walks us deeper into the water. I wrap my legs around him and grow lost in his kisses, in his touches, in this beautiful rhythm the two of us share.
Right when things start to become too heated, too passionate, and I’m too close to giving in and doing things that should be done only in private, I push away and smile at Noah. The game begins again.
The sky in the west blends into reds and pinks. We spent much of the afternoon playing in the pool with Jane and her family. Jane first got into the pool with her robe on when Noah and I asked her to play Marco Polo. Eventually, her parents were able to coax the robe off.
When Jane was in her bathing suit alone, her father held her. Arms wrapped around him as if he could shield her from the world, and he held her like he could be the warrior she needed. He told her he loved her, that she was okay, and eventually, she played. She played like a nine-year-old should. She played with smiles and laughter. She played as if she was loved unconditionally. She played with complete abandon and trust.
She played.
Just like Noah and I are playing now. Splashing in the water, running in the surf, laughing as if we’re free and flying. Everyone in the world, regardless of age, should be able to play like this.
The wind blows, and I shiver. The gulf water is warm, the breeze cool, and goose bumps form along my arms. I slow, Noah catches me and he immediately rubs his hands up and down my arms. The beach is deserted now except for a few lone couples walking along the sand.
Hotel rooms along the strip are lit up and the sound of music from the local bars drifts into the evening. My teeth chatter, and in a swift motion, Noah bends, swings me up in his arms and carries me to our blanket on the beach.
He wraps a towel around me before running one through his hair, then over the beads of water dripping down his chest. God, I love his chest. Like looking at it, like touching it, love kissing it. I just love him.
Noah reaches into the bag, pulls out his cell, and it lights up his face as he checks the time. His eyes dart as if he’s reading. Then he drops the cell back into the bag and flashes me his wicked grin. “You ready to head to the room?”
I pull the towel around me. Am I ready for a warm shower and a night with Noah in bed? Definitely, but there’s something I need to do and my foot begins to rock as anxiety tiptoes through my bloodstream. “I need to draw a picture first.”
His eyebrows furrow as he scans the horizon. “It’s getting dark fast. Do you want me to get the camping lantern? It’s in the trunk of your car.”
There’s a sketch pad and pencils in the bag and he thinks that’s what my canvas will be, but he’s wrong. A few seconds alone, though, would be appreciated. Our car is at the front of the hotel—won’t take Noah but five minutes to get there and back and that’s all I need. “Do you mind?”
“I’ll be right back.” A swift kiss to my lips, a rummage through our bag for the keys and a T-shirt, shoes on his feet, then he’s off for the lantern.
The moment he’s far enough away, I pull a T-shirt over my head, yank on a pair of shorts and then begin the task of drawing a picture just for Noah in the sand.
Chapter 6
Noah
A stray seagull squawks overhead as I return with the lantern in hand. The waves continuously crash against the beach and occasionally someone’s laughter from the balconies drifts down. In a T-shirt and shorts, Echo’s on her hands and knees in the sand next to our blanket.
She’s pulled her hair into a sloppy ponytail and unruly curls have fallen away. Echo’s intent on whatever she’s drawing in the sand, and before I reach her, she stands, clapping her hands together to rid her fingers of the dirt. There’s a soft smile on her face and it’s the type that, when sent in my direction, promises very good things.
“Hey,” I call out, and Echo turns her head. Her grin grows wider and she walks toward me.
“I drew you something,” she says in a rush, and when I continue to try to walk past her to see what it is, she places a hand on my chest. “I drew you something.”
I stop at the brush of her finger and her rep
eat of words. “What?”
Echo shifts her weight from one leg to another and her bare foot begins to tap against the sand. I glance around the beach, searching for what could be making her nervous. Echo rests her hand on my cheek and returns my gaze to her.
I love those green eyes. They’re the reason I chose an emerald-colored stone for the ring. There’s a patch of sand on her forehead, and knowing Echo, it’s from when she was deep in thought about whatever she was drawing. She must have wiped at the stray curls on her forehead to brush them away, not realizing she was marking herself with sand.
Echo swipes her thumb against the evening stubble forming on my jaw, then drops her hand to take my fingers in hers. “I love you.”
Before I have a chance to open my mouth and say anything back, she continues, the words stumbling out of her mouth. “The good times with you are so incredibly good and the rough times… We have faced extremely rough times and I’ve survived them with you right by my side. I’ve realized that this is life—happy times, sad times, mad and confusing times. It’s up and it’s down and there is no one I want with me during all of that other than you.”
Echo takes the lantern from me, pulls on my hand and walks backward toward her sand drawing. “I love you, and you once asked me to marry you and I said no. I was right to say no, you were right to take the question back, but I’ve had that moment tucked close to my heart, thinking about the day you might ask me again. Then I realized, I don’t have to wait. I realized that rules and social norms or anything normal have never and will never apply to us.”
With a click, Echo turns on the light, holds it up, and in the sand is a heart. Within the heart is the question I planned on asking her.
Noah, Will you marry me? I love you, Echo
Chapter 7
Echo
Noah’s dragging me. My hand in his, our beach bag on his shoulder, and he left our empty cooler and blanket behind. He didn’t even wait for the elevator, and I’m out of breath after practically running up eight flights of stairs. Noah is a bull, won’t answer my questions, won’t say a word. Just took one look at my drawing in the sand, grabbed my hand and we were gone.
We reach our room, and he releases me long enough to find the key. I suck in a breath to ask him if he’s at least okay, because I’m starting to wonder if I made a terrible mistake.
Maybe Noah wasn’t going to ask me to marry him. Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe he thought about how we have time left before we graduate from college. Maybe he thought about how there are so many people who don’t believe that anyone under the age of thirty has a clue about what they’re doing and that getting married before thirty-one is for fools.
My stomach sinks as Noah opens the door and for the first time I realize how desperate and scared he must have felt after I said no to him. He snatches my hand and we’re in the room.
The door behind me shuts, Noah flicks on the light and I can’t breathe. The entire room is filled with roses. Red roses, white roses, pink roses, yellow roses, orange roses, multicolored roses.
Roses.
Roses on the dresser, roses on the bedside tables, roses in vases on the floor, roses on the desk, single-stem roses on the pillows and rose petals on the made bed.
Roses.
Noah wasn’t going to ask me to marry him tomorrow night. He was going to ask me to marry him tonight.
“How in the world did you do this?” I whisper.
Noah drops the beach bag, yanks out his drawstring bag and withdraws a black velvet box.
Panic floods my veins. He bought a ring. Noah bought a ring. He doesn’t have money for a ring. I knot my fingers into my hair and pull until it hurts. I am not worth a loan and interest. Noah has so many other things he needs to focus on and a ring for me is insane.
I rush forward and place my hand over his. He can’t give me this ring. He has to say yes to my proposal so he doesn’t give me a ring he can’t afford. That’s why I asked him tonight—so he couldn’t ask me tomorrow.
“I asked you to marry me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and you have to answer me. You have to tell me if you want to spend the rest of your life with me and then we’re engaged. Sorry about your luck, but that’s how it is.”
A muscle in Noah’s jaw tics and I continue, “You have seen me through some of the worst moments of my life. Remembering what happened to me, the scars on my arms, my parents’ involvement, working through my grief over Aries, learning how to be a big sister, and you’ve been there through so many highs. Selling my paintings, figuring out who I am, leaving the insecure girl behind, and becoming the woman who is strong enough to stand in front of you and ask you to spend the rest of your life with me.
“I love you, I have loved you since we sat in the hallway at Eastwick and studied math, and I will love you for the rest of my life. The question on the table is, do you love me enough to spend forever with me?”
Noah briefly closes his eyes in defeat and takes both of my hands. The small box half in my palm, half in his. “Yes.”
Happiness. The fluttering in my stomach is happiness.
“Is it my turn to talk?” he asks, but even I know that really wasn’t a question as much as him explaining he’s going to say what he needs to say regardless.
I nod, and Noah steps closer to me. “My entire life changed the day you dropped into that chair beside me in the guidance counselor’s office. You were the hot girl who I thought had it all. Two seconds with me and you were handing me shit.”
“You made fun of my name,” I remind him.
Noah chuckles. “If I remember correctly, you called me a stoner.”
“You were a stoner.”
His wicked grin is just as seductive and dangerous as the night he backed me up against the wall outside a party and came close to kissing me for the first time. And just like the night of the school Valentine’s Day dance, he walks me backward into the wall. My back hits, his body presses to mine and all I can think about is kissing him.
“You challenge me, Echo,” he continues. “You pushed me to use my brain, to believe I could have a future again. You taught me to trust again and you taught me it was okay to love. Since you entered my life, I have thought about you day and night. The way you smile, the way your body feels against mine and the way I feel empty whenever you aren’t near.
“The next year without you is going to be hell, but we’re going to make it. You and I, we’re stronger than distance. We’re strong enough to make this work. You want to spend forever with me, Echo, and I want to spend forever with you. You asked me to marry you and the answer is yes, but I have a question for you.”
My heart beats faster when Noah drops down to one knee and opens up the small box in his hand. “Someday I’m going to be able to offer you a diamond ring, but until then, will you grant me the honor of wearing this ring? Someday, after we graduate, will you walk down the aisle and promise in front of our family and friends to be with me for the rest of our lives?”
It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen. Tears burn my eyes and my hands tremble. My knees give, and I lower myself down to the floor along with Noah. “I don’t want a diamond ring. I want this ring and this ring alone. I love it.”
“It’s engraved,” he says and holds it so I can see the words. I love you ~ Noah. “Will you wear it?”
“Yes.”
Noah eases the ring onto my finger, the heart toward my fingertips. He then presses his lips to the ring. “I love you, Echo Emerson. Every day for the rest of my life.”
He raises his head and his dark eyes are so full of love that a tear escapes from my eye.
“You better kiss me, Noah Hutchins.” Before I crawl into him and start to sob.
“I’m all about kissing you.”
And I’m all about kissing him.
Noah cups my face with his hand, leans in and kisses me for the first time as my fiancé.
The First Loves Collection:
The First Day of S
chool
In Crash into You, Isaiah Walker, a foster kid and drag racer, meets and falls in love with Rachel Young, the youngest daughter of the wealthiest man in the state. Their love story captured the hearts of many, and I’ll admit they are a favorite couple of mine. Isaiah had a rough childhood, but he found love and acceptance in Rachel. “The First Day of School” shows a glimpse of the future life Rachel and Isaiah found with each other.
Chapter 8
Isaiah
The smoke alarm goes off, and I curse under my breath. I turn away from the pancakes cooking on the electric griddle on the island, and my eyes burn from the smoke rising from the beginning grease fire. I snatch the handle of the pan, and another curse word Rachel has begged me not to say in the house falls from my mouth as I burn the hell out of my hand. I drop the pan, grab a towel, and push the same pan full of bacon off the burner. A few slaps of the towel on the stove top and the fire is extinguished.
A squeal from upstairs causes me to lower my head. Rachel is going to kill me.
“Fire!” my five-year-old daughter yells. “We have to run! Stop! Drop! And Roll!”
Getting Ariel to stay still long enough to get her hair brushed on a normal day is like herding stray cats who have rabies. The fire alarm going off is only going to make life for my beautiful wife more complicated.
I head over to the fire alarm, reach up and push the button. The ear-piercing beeping ends and in its place are Ariel’s complaints that having her hair brushed is killing her. No kidding here—she makes moaning noises and declares she’s about to die. The edges of my mouth tilt up as Rachel says, “You’ll live.”
The Novella Collection: A series of short stories for the Pushing the Limits series, Thunder Road series, and Only a Breath Apart Page 3