“You and I have both known she was the one since that summer you dated years ago.”
“You knew back then?”
“Sure. The way you look at each other? The way you connect? That doesn’t happen often in life. You were both so young back then, but now you’re the perfect age.”
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“What, was I supposed to do, rub salt into the wound? ‘Gee, son, you really lost the love of your life.’ You were sad enough as it was.”
“True.” I couldn’t imagine how tough I would have taken it if she’d said that to me back when I was missing her so hard it was like having lost a limb.
“I know!” She lit up. “Ask her when you’re in Scotland! That’ll be so romantic.” Sophie and I were traveling there after Christmas to visit Ian. I had no idea what we’d find when we got there, but it did seem to be the only way to see the man. He certainly wasn’t getting himself on a plane to come visit us. I’d never left the country before and couldn’t wait to do it with the love of my life.
“You’ll make your brother, Pat, best man I’m assuming.” Mom hopped right back onto the wedding planning train. She looked at me meaningfully. “Jax, Ian and Chase can be your groomsmen. But I think it would mean a lot to Pat.”
I stood up, having already dogged my sandwich. She was such a good cook. “Let me just think about the whole main question for a little bit. That OK with you?”
“What’s there to think about?” She shook her head in amused frustration. “Honestly, don’t over think this thing, honey. I know you can do that sometimes. But why waste any more time?”
I walked back to the cottage mulling over her words. Was I really wasting time? I knew in my heart Sophie was the one, but I guess I’d been giving her time. She’d only moved in a couple of months ago. Would I be jumping the gun to ask her to marry me?
I thought about calling Ian and asking his opinion, maybe even his permission, but I knew he wouldn’t pick up. I could call Chase but I already knew what he/Emma would tell me. “Just tell her how you feel!” No, I needed to talk to Jax. If anyone would tell me I was making a huge mistake, it would be Jax. He would be honest and straight with me. He wasn’t a romantic. He’d had it rough all his childhood, having to fight for everything he had. He didn’t look at the world through rose-colored glasses. He’d set me straight if that was what I needed.
The conversation did not go as expected. I called him. He knew instantly something was on my mind.
“What’s up?” he asked, direct as always.
“So, ah, I’m thinking of asking Sophie to marry me. And I was, ah, wondering what you thought of the idea.”
“Yeah, man, of course you should. She’s been under your skin since the day you met her. That’s never going to change.”
“What?” I’d expected at least a little good-natured ribbing from my confirmed bachelor friend, probably hosting a party as we spoke with ten hot women waiting for him downstairs. “How do you know that Sophie’s been under my skin since the day I met her?”
“You told me.”
“I did?” I had no recollection of doing that.
“Yeah, how you saw her dancing in the theater? The summer before you even dated.”
“I told you about that?” I’d thought that was my own private memory. I hadn’t even told Sophie about that yet.
Jax laughed. “You were pretty drunk when you told me about it.”
“What other secrets have I told you about myself that I don’t remember?”
He chuckled again. “I’m not telling.” And I knew he wouldn’t. He was good with secrets. I had a feeling he had a few of his own.
“OK, then, I guess what I should be asking you is if Sophie says yes—”
“When she says yes,” he corrected me.
“I’m not counting on a yes.”
“Fine, have it your way. If she says yes, I’ll be there. And then I’ll have to work on the both of you to move out to Cali.”
We agreed to disagree on that point. When I got off the phone, I realized I had a few more things on my to do list than I’d had that morning. First, I needed to get a ring. In all the years we’d been together I’d only given Sophie one other piece of jewelry, and that had been something she’d found on the beach. The first time we’d talked she’d played with a little white shell. I’d kept it, coated it in shellac and put it on a chain. That was cute for an 18-year-old, but now she was 26 and I wanted to find an engagement ring that would take her breath away.
And there was something else I needed to put on my to do list. What was I forgetting? Oh, that was it. I needed to ask Sophie to marry me.
Epilogue, December
Sophie
We were only a week away from Christmas. Many families were in gear-up mode, getting ready for the big day, wrapping presents, finalizing travel arrangements, planning holiday feasts. But for me, I could finally relax.
Our big holiday dance performance had been over the weekend with Saturday and Sunday shows. I’d been terribly nervous, barely sleeping at night, forgetting to eat. It wasn’t that I wanted everything to be perfect. I did, of course, but more than that I wanted all my dancers to enjoy themselves. I wanted them to have a positive experience out on the stage, most of them for the first time.
I knew what it was like to get out there under the lights. It felt scary and exposed. I worried about one of them tripping and falling not because it would reflect poorly on my studio, but because I knew that poor girl would remember that moment for the rest of her life.
But now the days had come and gone and I could honestly say that the performances had been fantastic. We’d had a few flubs, some trouble with costumes and scenery, but nothing a regular audience member would notice. The dancers were all in varying stages of expertise, from brand new to more experienced, and what I loved about the shows was how everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. I took as much pleasure from watching the little ones admiring their sparkly tutus as I did from watching my most talented students jeté, pirouette and glissade across the stage with strength and grace.
And now, most of all, I enjoyed having some down time before Christmas and, then, the trip Liam and I had planned to the UK. We were going to meet up with my former dance partner, Geoffrey, and his boyfriend in London for a couple of days. Then we were headed to the coast of Scotland to visit Ian. I couldn’t wait.
In the past, all my performances had ended with more stress. What next? Had that performance been big and bold and perfect enough to win me another? Whose eye had I caught? Or, worse, had I displeased anyone? Disappointed someone important? It was all nail-biting all the time, before, during and after performances.
But not anymore. Now I was in the cottage I shared with Liam and we were about to cook dinner. Regina and her boyfriend Ed were coming over for dinner tomorrow night, but tonight was just us. I’d invited Margot and Eloise over to join, but they’d declined. As much as I enjoyed seeing them, I was happy they’d wanted to do it another day.
Margot had moved back to the island a few weeks ago, enrolling Eloise in the local kindergarten. Things hadn’t worked out in Raleigh, and she wanted to try her hand back on more familiar ground. They’d moved into the family house and she’d hired herself a nanny with her trust fund money. I’d love to say that everything was going perfectly, but that would be a lie. What I could say was that I was grateful Eloise was nearby. She was going to start taking dance at my studio in January, the start of the next semester of classes. And I could see her any time I wanted. That, at least, helped me sleep easier at night. The rest of it I’d just have to wait and see with fingers crossed
.
Liam came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, nuzzling my hair. “Hey, beautiful.”
I smiled, leaning back against his solid chest. I was so lucky to have him. And I was so happy I’d agreed to move in. It felt so natural sharing a home with him. We’d really never hit a rough patch over it, no “that’s my towel” or “I need more space” issues. If anything, we wished we had more time together. With his 24 hours on, 48 hours off schedule plus my hectic teaching schedule every day, we didn’t see as much of each other as we’d like. But we still managed to make time for the important stuff.
“I was thinking about you today.” He kissed my neck, working his hands down my body.
“Were you?” I’d been thinking about him, too. He was surprisingly creative, always seeming to have some new idea he wanted to try out with me. It made me wonder what would come next.
“Um hmm.” He moved his fingers lower, slipping past the waistband of my sweats, finding my panties. “You know that sound you make when I’m getting you right to the brink of orgasm?”
He started stroking me as he asked, first outside my panties, then slipping his fingers underneath to touch me directly on my skin. Slick under his expert fingers, I leaned back into him, letting him do the work he did so well. With his other hand, he slid up my shirt, pulling down my bra.
“Do you know the sound I’m talking about?” He tweaked my nipple as he asked, pulsing against my throbbing clit.
“No,” I panted. I had to admit I didn’t know what he was talking about. He made me make all kinds of sounds of pleasure. I wasn’t always aware, or in control of the moans and groans and sighs that came out of my mouth.
“No?” he asked, working faster, taking my arousal and sliding it along my pussy, fucking me slow and steady with two fingers. He moved his hand up to my throat, holding me there against him, keeping me still as he finger-fucked me. The feeling of being held, dominated, triggered something in me and I could feel my arousal build.