“I’m up and so is Luke-man,” he says. “And someone’s got a growling belly.”
“Give me that boy,” Daddy says, dropping his bags on the wicker chair and taking Luke in his arms. “Papa’s gonna make you a ba-ba,” he says in baby talk. Everyone laughs.
Gage walks over to me and whispers in my ear, “Let’s take a walk while we have babysitters.”
I nod and take his hand. We walk down the steps and across the boardwalk over the dunes to the hardened sand, lying just out of reach of the cold wintertime ocean. The temperatures are moderate in the 50s, but a brisk chilly breeze has me tugging the sleeves of my sweater down over my fingers. “I’ve missed this place.” The realization is stronger standing on the shore, a million memories flooding back. This was always meant to be our home.
“I have an idea.” A sly smile inches up the corner of Gage’s lips. “Remember when we were here before, and I found all those conch shells and you found squat?”
I narrow my eyes, sticking out my tongue. “Your point?”
“Rematch? If you can handle it, that is.”
“Name the rules.” We’re in a stare-down with me doing that tough-guy tooth-sucking thing.
“Two minutes. Best shell wins. Winner gets a kiss and bragging rights.”
“Let’s do this,” I say as he sets the stopwatch on his phone.
I take off, scouring the sand where the ocean’s just pulling out. Down the beach, Gage is hot dogging, talking smack like always, but when I find a tiny but perfect conch, I know I’m golden. It’s no bigger than my thumb but fully intact, a creamy tan color with veins of blue and pink running throughout.
When the alarm sounds, I skip over to Gage. “Take that!” I flash the conch in his face. He’s hiding his behind his back in one hand, but uses the other to inspect my find, scrunching his eyes as he looks it up and down.
“Pretty damn good,” he says, and I smile before he finishes. “Not good enough.”
“Whatever. I’d like to see you top this.” I hold it up like a trophy.
“Sure you can handle it? Mine’s good.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Baby, I know you’re good, but what’s your shell like?” I tease and roll my eyes.
“You tell me.” He extends his hand toward me and unfurls his fingers. He’s right. His is much better, and I drop my puny, insignificant conch to the sand.
It’s a ring. A diamond engagement ring.
I raise my eyes to his. He’s smiling, not in that smartass way but in the same way he looked at me about an hour ago in our room. My legs tremble as he drops to one knee in front of me. “I love how we challenge each other, Rayne. It’s been our thing from the get-go. I thought my biggest challenge in life would be winning your heart, but it turns out my biggest challenge—the one I can’t win—is not being with you. Yes, we’re young. But we’re a family. I need you. I need us. Cuddling on the swing, camping out under the stars, or even baking a little cherry pie now and then. Will you marry me?”
I look at him and remember the broken pieces, the shards of old dreams and old loves that all fell together perfectly to create ours. We cry when we’re broken, but the truth is maybe we’re all meant to be broken. Because that’s how we grow, and real beauty comes from taking those pieces and melting them together into something real and lasting—a mosaic of the life we’ve created, the life still to come.
“I accept the challenge of being your wife. Yes, Gage, I’ll marry you,” I say, without tears, only smiles because I know without a shadow of doubt this is meant to be. I drop down in front of him and he lunges forward, smothering me in kisses, and stopping only once to slip the ring on my finger.
When we make our way back to the house from the boardwalk, everyone’s on our porch, clapping and hollering. I bury my head in Gage’s arm as he hams the whole thing up, bowing before them and saying, “thank you, thank you.” Everyone shakes Gage’s hand and hugs me, including Preston, who offers his sincere congratulations.
Daddy is the last to wrap his arm around me, long and tight, with Luke on his other side. “I wish Mama could be here to see this,” I say.
“She’s here. I think she knows, and she’s proud of you,” he whispers. “I bet she’s watching over this little man, too. He would’ve been the apple of her eye.” As he speaks, a breeze touches my cheek, and the wind chimes on the porch tinkle out a melody.
Mama shows up. I feel her.
I take Luke from Daddy and hold him against me. Gage walks up, wraps his arms around us and leans in to kiss my forehead. For the first time in a long time, everything in my world is perfect.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My name may be on the cover, but this was more than a one-person show. So many people rooted for this book in their heart and dedicated umpteen hours to the pages you now hold in your hand. If not for their labor, love, and confidence in this Southern romance, my dream might never have been more than a saved document on my laptop.
Now it’s real, and I’m grateful to every person whose hands have lovingly grabbed this novel and tugged it along this journey.
To God: You put the desire in my heart to pursue writing. You instilled in me the patience to wait on Your plan (I know that in itself was no easy task!) even when I couldn’t always understand the reasons why things happened like they did. Now, looking back, I know why. You had the foresight, and now, I have the hindsight. Thank You.
To Myra, Melissa, and the FVP team: Y’all believed in me and the story I had to tell, loving my characters enough to bring them to life, and for that, a simple thank you seems lacking. Standing by me through every step of the process, y’all created an environment that operates more like family, and then extended this support to the writing community at large. I’m grateful and proud to work alongside the FVP team—a bunch of “green girls” with a whole lot of heart and gumption.
To Carla and Jena: My girls. When I found you two, I found more than critique partners. I found friends. I found family. I found sisters. They say you should never become friends with your critique partners because you need the distance in order to feel completely at ease with issuing all the “tough love” your job entails. I love that we’ve found a way around this. Whether we’re calling, emailing, texting or chatting online to simply check in or tell the other one that their MC is acting like a total—ahem—in the latest chapter, it all seems to flow together seamlessly. Your honesty, support and friendship mean more to me than you will ever know, and I’m proud to call you “my girls.”
To Nick: The one critique partner I’ve actually gotten to meet face to face. It was such a pleasure to visit with you and your wonderful family. You were “lucky” (LOL) enough to read a super-early draft of this manuscript and somehow make it out alive. The advice you gave me was always on point, but, even better, was the encouragement and support. Your positive attitude was a ray of sunlight on all the dark days of self-doubt.
To RJ, Christina, and Chelsea: Y’all never hesitated to step up and read or give me some great advice along the way. Your thoughts and support helped shaped MtbB in significant ways, and for that, I’ll always be grateful.
To the rest of my “Writing Bootcamp Buds” and the aforementioned CPs: Who would’ve thought one online course could link us all together? Best. Investment. Ever. You guys have been there for YEARS now, ready with support, consolation, advice, and encouragement. It’s a pleasure to ride this crazy writer life with you. Y’all are truly My Tribe.
To all the people who’ve invited me into their lives, be it family, friends, coworkers, clients, and beta readers: Thanks for your time and energy. Each of you has left your mark on me in some form or fashion. We travel through the years, often never realizing how the simple act of just being in someone’s life can affect them. Be aware. Be kind. Be you, always.
To my children—Maddox, Hayden, and Colton: Never let anyone tell you a dream is not worth chasing. That inkling in your heart will lead you. Y’all make me proud—every s
ingle day. You’re the reason I fought for this dream, desperate to show you that you’re capable of achieving all of your desires through hard work and determination. I love you.
To my husband, Gene: Words fail. Nothing I can pen here could ever demonstrate just how big your role is in all of this. From brainstorming sessions to patiently listening to me read (and re-read) chapters to cooking supper when my nose was buried in the laptop, you made this possible. Thank you for believing in my dream, but most of all, thank you for believing in me. I love you.
To my readers: My greatest wish is that you would take Rayne and Gage into your heart and care about them as much as I do. If you laugh, curse, cry and maybe even fall in love along with them, then my goal is fulfilled. Thank you for letting me share my story with you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Brandy Woods Snow is an author and journalist born, raised and currently living in beautiful Upstate South Carolina. She earned a BA in English/Writing from Clemson University and worked in corporate communications and the media for more than 17 years before pursuing her true passion for novel writing. Brandy is a member of Romance Writers of America (RWA) and Young Adult RWA.
When Brandy’s not writing, reading, spending time with her husband or driving carpool for her three kids, she enjoys kayaking, family hikes, yelling “Go Tigers!” as loud as she can, playing the piano and taking “naked” Jeep Wrangler cruises on twisty, country roads.
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