Summer Romance Boxset - Weightless, Revelry, On the Way to You

by Steiner, Kandi

  And it still mirrored mine, even after all these years.

  “Marry me, Bug. Be mine now, and tomorrow, and every day until one of us leaves this Earth.” He paused, adding with a laugh, “And I hope that it’s me first, because I already know I won’t survive even one day on this planet without you.”

  A mix between a laugh and a sob bubbled out of me, and I threw my arms around his neck, nearly knocking him over as I leaned all my weight on him. He caught me easily, and through the distant applause from the other tourists around us, through the soft rushing of the fountain, through all the anxious thoughts that had haunted me that week — I only heard his heart.

  “God better take us together, if He knows what’s good for him.”

  William laughed, pulling back long enough to kiss me before his fingers found mine. He removed the promise ring he’d given me three years before, replacing it instantly with the new, heavier ring from the Tiffany blue box. It sparkled in the light from the fountain, and I wiggled my finger, biting my lower lip at the sight of it.

  “I was wrong, though,” I whispered, hooking my hands around his neck as we both stood. I pressed up on my toes, locking my lips to his and savoring the sweet, familiar pressure of his mouth on mine. “And you were right.”

  “About?”

  I shook my head. “Not a single moment with you has been wasted. And I’m sorry I said that. I’m sorry I didn’t just trust you… it’s just, my head was all foggy, and when Alayna told us she was pregnant…”

  “I know,” he said on a sigh. “I know. I felt the same way. And don’t ever apologize for feeling normal, human feelings. I’m here for you — always. Dark times and light, the easy and the not so much. Okay?”

  I nodded, pressing my forehead to his. “Okay.”

  Somewhere nearby, someone played a soft melody on an acoustic guitar, and William wrapped me in his arms, swaying me gently. With every moment that passed, my heart rate slowed, my breathing steadying until it was like we were on a cloud — just the two of us.

  “I hate making my girl cry,” he said, kissing my cheek. “Remind me to never do that again.”

  “Deal,” I said with a laugh. “But, don’t worry. I’ll pay you back.”

  “Oh, you will, huh?” he asked, pulling back with a lazy smile as he swept my hair out of my face.

  I nodded. “Mmm-hmm.”

  “How’s that?”

  “When I walk down the aisle to you on our wedding day.”

  William’s face sobered, and he stopped swaying, his eyes wide as they searched mine. “Fuck,” he finally whispered. “You really are going to make me cry.”

  I laughed, swaying us back into motion as I pressed my lips to his once more. And in a new country, surrounded by a dozen strangers, I danced with my fiancé in front of the most famous fountain in the world. I thought of the lovers who had come before us, the proposals that water had seen, the tears and the joy each one of those stone figures had witnessed as millions of people swept in and out of their view.

  I thought of the glittering coins, of the wishes they carried with them.

  And as I pulled William closer, I thanked that fountain for granting mine.

  Revelry Extended Epilogue

  Ice, Ice, Baby

  WISACRE

  WYZE-ay-ker

  Noun

  : one who pretends to knowledge or cleverness; especially

  : smart aleck

  I tilted my head, surveying the gray and white chevron letters that hung on the wall while one hand rested on my very round belly.

  “I don’t know,” I said, scrunching my nose. “They just don’t quite fit. They’re not… cabin-y enough.”

  “What, you don’t have enough Makore wood and forest green accents in here to feel like you’re in the woods?” Momma Von sassed, waving her hands before hanging them on her hips. “Mix it up a little. I like the gray and white.”

  I frowned even more. “Maybe it’s the chevron. It doesn’t feel like us.”

  Momma Von considered that, tilting her head a little, too. “Okay, now that you put it that way, you might be right.”

  “Right?” I shook my head, taking in the rest of the soft whites and grays in the nursery. I loved the fluffy white and pewter comforter with the little elephants on it, and the fuzzy stool that would serve as a foot rest in front of the little white rocking chair. I adored the black and white photos of the mountains and waterfalls, the smoky, gray-stained wood dresser and changing table that Anderson had made — and of course, the crib that matched.

  The colors were perfect.

  The chevron reminded me of the first dress I made when I learned how to sew.

  “I bet Anderson could sand them down and I could repaint them,” I offered.

  Momma Von nodded, reaching up to take down each letter that spelled out Elijah. “Sounds like a plan. I bet Beau would help, he loves to paint.”

  I smiled at the way she beamed when she spoke about Beau, the man she loved her entire life, though they’d only recently found their way back together. Neither of us believed our eyes when he showed up at the pig roast a year after I’d been in Gold Bar, and sometimes, I wasn’t sure she believed it even when they were face to face, or holding hands on her front porch.

  But they were just proof that love comes back to us, no matter how many times it may hurt us in our lives. It always comes back.

  It was hard to remember the woman I was when I first met Momma Von, when I wasn’t sure I even believed in love anymore — not after mine had gone down in a fiery death. That was the summer after my divorce had been finalized, when I’d come to Gold Bar to get away, to find myself.

  And I had — along with a man I never imagined existed.

  I’d fought those feelings tooth and nail, not wanting to trust them, to believe they were real. Even after a year of being together, I still wasn’t sure where our story would lead — mine and Anderson’s. I still had a place in Seattle at that time, like I had one foot in my past life and one in the life I’d found in Gold Bar. Anderson had been traveling with Greg for their YouTube survival series. We both had so much going on — between me launching the Revelry line and him creating his business — and though I knew I didn’t want to not be with him…past that? I didn’t know anything at all.

  Now, four years later, I had a slender, gold band on my finger and our son growing in my stomach.

  I smiled, rubbing the warm fabric of my sweater dress where it swelled over my belly. It was so wild to think of how far we’d come, how that man had gone from my grumpy neighbor to my husband. That apartment in Seattle was gone, along with each of our smaller cabins — all traded in for the one I stood in now.

  One that would be home not just to us, but to Elijah, too.

  Momma Von folded her arms, a knowing smile on her own face as she watched me. “You know, I always hated that expression for pregnant woman. You’re glowing. But honey, you really are.”

  “I still can’t believe it,” I whispered. “Me. Pregnant. After my divorce, after everything with Greg, I just… I never thought…”

  “Well, you better start believing it. Here pretty soon, that baby boy is going to be out of your belly and laying right here in this bed,” she said, patting the wooden edges of the crib.

  “He’s going to have me wrapped around his little finger.”

  Momma Von scoffed. “You? Just wait until his daddy lays eyes on him. Going to turn into a big ol’ softie, I tell ya.”

  “Who’s going to turn soft?”

  Anderson swung into the nursery, and though I would have sworn it was impossible, my heart still galloped to life at the sight of him. And though I’d never say it out loud, Momma Von was right.

  In fact, I’d have argued that he’d already softened.

  The first time I laid eyes on him, everything about him was hard — the bend in his brows, the edge of his jaw, the scruff that lined it. Now, those blue eyes were endless wells of welcoming water, that beard was longer a
nd lush, soft enough for me to run my hands all the way through. The way he carried himself now, the weight he’d held on those shoulders had somewhere along the line been lifted.

  I liked to think maybe I was the cause of that.

  Still, the rigid muscles of his biceps that stretched against his work thermal were proof that not all of him had softened. I licked my bottom lip as he sauntered into the room, and when he caught me staring, he lifted his brows and shook his head almost imperceptibly in a warning.

  “You better put those bedroom eyes away when there’s company here,” he whispered in my ear when he leaned in for a hug, pressing his lips on my cheek before he pulled back. He rested one arm around my shoulder, facing Momma Von next. “And I know you aren’t talking about me.”

  “Oh, yes, I am,” she argued. “Just wait. The minute that boy is born, your whole world is going to tilt on its axis. I bet I never see you scowl again.”

  Anderson’s brows furrowed, as if to prove a point. “No way. I’m going to be even tougher. Gotta set an example for my son.”

  “Mm-hmm,” she said, folding her arms over her chest before she nodded toward the arm that wasn’t draped around my shoulder. “Whatcha got there?”

  Anderson stiffened. “Nothing.”

  “Oh?” Momma Von took three steps toward us, and before he could jerk his hand away, she snatched the package out of it. Then, she held it up for me with a victorious smile. “Well, look at that. Little elephant pacifiers — and a bottle to match.”

  “It was on sale,” Anderson said flatly.

  “Just admit it,” I cooed, wrapping my arms around his waist as much as I could around my belly between us. “He’s going to have you just as wrapped as me.”

  His shoulders softened at that, and he shook his head, kissing my nose. “He’s going to have to pry the string from around your finger, first. Because you’ve had me wrapped up for years now.”

  “Yeah. You’re a real man of stone,” Momma Von deadpanned from the corner of the room.

  I laughed at that, kissing Anderson’s neck as he blushed.

  Momma Von set the pacifiers on top of the baby’s dresser, picking up the letters she’d taken from the wall before making her way toward the door. “I’m going to take these home to Beau. He can sand them and repaint them. Why don’t you two join us for dinner tomorrow night? I’m sure he can have them done by then.”

  I opened my mouth to confirm her invite, but Anderson cleared his throat before the words left my mouth.

  “Actually, I have to run into Seattle tomorrow to get some supplies for the Venetian-inspired dresser I’m making for that couple in Portland.” He glanced at me apologetically. “I was going to tell you tonight. I’ll just run in and back, but I can’t promise I’ll be back for dinner.”

  “You can’t go to Seattle tomorrow,” Momma Von spoke from the doorway. “They’re calling for snow. You know Seattle shuts down when it snows, and the roads are going to be terrible.”

  “It’s been raining, there will be ice everywhere,” I added.

  Anderson nodded, hand reaching for the back of his neck. “I know. Even more reason for me to go get what I need before the storm comes.”

  Momma Von and I both made noises of disapproval.

  “I’ll be careful,” he promised, kissing my temple. “I promise.”

  “Well,” Momma Von conceded. “You’re a grown man. Do what you have to do. If you make it back in time for dinner, come join us.”

  “I will.”

  “And I’ll be there,” I told her, but my eyes were still on Anderson. Even as Momma Von said her final goodbyes, I watched him with uncertainty swimming in my veins.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” he said before he’d even looked down at me. When he did, I frowned deeper, and he chuckled, pulling me into his chest. “It’ll be okay. I’ve driven these roads all my life, in all kinds of conditions.”

  “Yeah, but there’s a difference. Before, if you died, you’d only have to do it once. Now, I’ll bring you back to life just so I can kill you myself for being so stupid and driving in a snow storm.”

  A laugh barreled out of his chest, reverberating through me as he hugged me tighter. “I’ll be okay, no deaths or second deaths. I promise.” He kissed my forehead before pulling back, his hands framing my arms. “Little man will be here in just over two weeks. I need to get all this done so we’re both ready for him.”

  I sighed at that, nodding in understanding. There was nothing more to be said. I knew my husband, and if he had his mind set on something, it would happen. I just hugged him tighter, telling him to be careful with my embrace more than my words.

  “I want to show you something,” he whispered, kissing my forehead again before he pulled away completely. He crossed the room, clicking on the little dial that used to work a cabin-wide stereo system. It hadn’t worked when we bought it, and the off-white dials around the house had been nothing more than eyesores that I couldn’t wait to be rid of once we had more time to work on the house.

  But this time, when Anderson turned it to the right, a soft, familiar melody filled the room.

  I gasped. “Wait! You fixed it?”

  Anderson nodded, crossing the room and pulling me in his arms once more. He swayed with me as “Truly, Madly, Deeply” by Savage Garden filtered in the room around us. “I did. In every room except for the upstairs bathroom. Can’t quite figure that one out yet.”

  “So that means…”

  “Yep. It works in the kitchen.”

  I squeezed him a little tighter, a giggle escaping my lips. “I can’t wait to test it out.”

  “I’ll warn the neighbors not to be alarmed when they hear Wu-Tang blasting from a mile away.”

  I laughed, but as the song fell in around us, a content sigh found me, and I leaned my head on Anderson’s chest. It fit so perfectly there.

  And even with my round belly between us, I loved the way he held me.

  HANDSEL

  HAN-sul

  Noun

  A gift made as a token of good wishes or luck

  : a first installment

  : a token of what is to come

  “Shit,” I murmured, turning up the wipers on my old truck as high as they would go. Not that it mattered. The flurries were falling so hard now that I could barely make out which side of the road was which on the two-lane that led back to Gold Bar. The sun had already started setting, and I knew I didn’t have a prayer of getting home before dark.

  Our cabin was only thirty minutes away, but in this condition, it would likely take me at least an hour.

  I grumbled, leaning forward in my seat even more as I killed the radio so I could focus. The tarp I’d laid out over the bed of my truck was all that was keeping my new wood safe, but the real reason I’d needed to get to Seattle was in the passenger seat beside me.

  I reached over, running a hand over the long, plush, mustard-yellow rectangular cushion with white and gray design accents. Next to it, and just a little out of my reach, was a matching pillow. Both were designed by Adrian, Wren’s long-time associate and partner at the boutique.

  They were the finishing touches on the cradle I’d been making for Elijah for months.

  If I could go back in time and tell the me that existed before Wren what the me now was doing, he wouldn’t have even had it in him to laugh. Every day in my miserable life had been the same until that woman walked into my life — or rather, fell out of a hot tub and right into my arms. It didn’t seem possible that this could be my life — a cabin twice the size of my old one in the town I loved and called home, the most amazing woman in the world with a ring on her finger that said she was mine forever, and a baby being brought to life inside her.

  My baby.

  I didn’t know much, but I knew the moment Wren told me she was pregnant that I would be the best damn father in the world. I knew I would provide for that kid, for his mother, that I would make sure they both knew they were loved and cherished and prot
ected. I wouldn’t be like my own dad, wouldn’t abandon my family or make them ever wonder what they mean to me. They would know, undoubtedly, that they were my entire world.

  Momma Von was right. I had turned soft.

  And I knew it was just the beginning.

  It wasn’t long after Wren found out she was pregnant that she told me about a cradle her grandfather had made for her, how her grandma had made the cushions for it, and how much she had loved it. She didn’t remember sleeping in it as a child, of course, but she remembered playing with it when she was a little older, using it for her baby dolls and even crawling inside it to nap a time or two. She loved how big it was, how grand the designs in the wood were, how beautiful the design on the cushions were. And through a little digging in an old album at her Mom’s, I’d found a picture of it.

  It’d taken me months, studying the photo to get the design on the wood right, and I’d sent that photo to Adrian to help inspire the cushions he would make. I wanted the design to be close to the original, but with the colors Wren had selected for our nursery.

  And when Adrian showed me the finished product at the boutique today, I knew they were perfect.

  The cradle would be perfect once they were in it.

  A perfect gift for my perfect wife.

  I smiled, knowing Wren would likely tear up when she saw the finished product. Her happiness alone would be worth the trip in a snow storm. Still, I wished I had more daylight.

  In hindsight, I should have just neglected getting any wood at all. Wren might have questioned me when I got home, but I could have made something up, said they didn’t have the right style or color. Getting the wood from one of my favorite distributors was more for a cover story than it was for any of the projects I was currently working on, but I wanted to cover all my bases, not give her any reason to question my trip to Seattle so the cradle could be a surprise.