She gets working on the bacon and eggs. Thankfully, there's grocery delivery in this town and we've been able to stock up that way. We haven't wanted to leave our little cocoon and we haven't wanted anyone to come around.
God knows my family has tried.
My brothers and sisters have all attempted to make appearances, but I wouldn't let them past the door. It's not that I don't want them to spend time with Prairie. It's just that right now we're in what we're calling our honeymoon stage. And we need to get to know one another first.
The moment my family gets involved, things will change. Prairie will see me differently… and I’m scared for that.
My siblings and parents have been texting for the last few days about Sunday dinner. I need to make a decision.
“Leila is coming over later with lunch, wasn’t sure if you remembered.”
“Around noon?” I ask. Prairie nods. “I’ll work in the garage or something, to give you girls space.”
I run a hand over my jaw as she pours the freshly brewed coffee into two mugs. We carry them to the living room and sit down on the couch, side by side. Of course, I quickly draw Prairie into my lap. I need her next to me, always.
“That'll be good for you to touch base with her,” I say. Leila is the only person who's come into our cabin since Prairie moved in. “Hey, it’s Sunday—didn’t you say you always have dinner with your family on Sunday?”
“Yeah,” I say with a grunt. “There's family dinner tonight.”
Prairie twists her lips. “What does that entail, exactly?”
“Well, you know everything about my family already, right?”
She laughs, not understanding the weight of what she’s just brought up. “Everything? I don't know about that. I mean, I know you have six brothers and sisters. I know you're the oldest. I know your mom named you all after the food she was craving when she was pregnant. I know that your brother Bartlett got married less than a month ago.” Prairie taps her finger to her chin. “Your younger brother Rueben's wife died a few years ago and he has a little girl named Plum.” She's ticking things off on her fingers now. “I know your parents are really nice if a bit overprotective and that you have some crazy cousins over in Burly. Right?’
I chuckle. “Yeah. Good memory, Prairie.”
“Was it a test?” she asked. “Did I pass?”
“I’m not testing you.” I kiss her. “I don’t play games, Prairie.”
“If we're going to your parents’ for dinner, are you going to tell them that you asked me to marry you?” she asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Course I want to. But I don't want to put you in an uncomfortable situation. Hell, I don’t want to put us in a situation that we're not ready for. We don’t have to go tonight.”
She swallows. “Do you not want me to meet your family?”
I run a hand over my beard. “I didn’t say that.”
She sighs, thinking I’m hesitating over the proposal, but really it’s Luke. It’s the past. It’s the last damn year catching up to me. When I brought up marriage before, Prairie said she wasn’t ready to say yes.
“I know I didn't give you the answer you wanted the other night,” she says, her hand on my chest.
I shake my head. “That's not it. I know me blurting that I wanted you to marry me and make you my wife right after we had sex for the first time wasn't the best way to go about making a proposal. But I still intend on marrying you. Sure, I need to give you some space. Make sure you know what you're getting into.” Prairie smiles. “But I know what I want. And that's you.”
“Rye, I don't need space. I just—”
“You need a ring on that finger?”
Prairie laughs, shaking her head.
“It's a more traditional approach to an engagement, I suppose,” I tell her with a chuckle. “I know I'm a dumbass. I need to get you a ring and properly propose, and yeah, you should meet my family because, well, they're family. But I’m warning you, Prairie. They're also a lot.”
“When you say they're a lot, what does that mean?” she asks. “I'm only asking because I don't exactly have experience with family. I haven't really had one since, well, forever. It was my mom and me until I was about seven years old, and then she died and I was just placed in home after home. But those were just houses. There was never a place I belonged.” She looks around my cabin. “I never felt like I belonged until I met you, Rye. And I have a feeling your family might not understand that. We just met, they think I'm damaged goods, and—”
“Hey,” Rye says, cutting me off. “Don't say that. You're not damaged anything. You're perfect. You're my everything. Prairie, you’re light itself. So don't say you're damaged. My family believes in good intentions and purity of heart. I don't want you to go into tonight thinking you have anything to prove, all right?”
She nods. “I’ll try to remember that,” she says softly.