My Little Gypsy

by Brooke St. James

  "Darcy Meyers," Owen said. "I want to marry you."

  I nodded my head because I didn't trust my voice.

  "I have a ring for you, but you have to come down here to get it."

  I carefully stood up, hoping and praying that my legs could carry me. I started to walk down the steps, and someone yelled out in excitement like they were at a rock concert. Someone else whistled, and three or four more joined in, yelling and whistling sounds of approval at me as I descended the steps.

  All I could do was smile and shake my head, feeling like the whole scene was a dream. I didn't stop in front of Owen. I walked right into his arms, almost knocking him over, which caused a whole round of yelling and applause.

  He easily regained his balance, and we held each other steady for a few seconds before he turned to face the crowd. He held me close to him, a fact for which I was grateful because I was devastated with emotions.

  "Nothing happens to you unless it's your destiny," he said, speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear. "And I always knew Darcy was mine."

  Someone whistled, and I sank my face into his chest as tears fell.

  "I already told her I was gonna marry her, but I wanted y'all to be here with me when I gave her the ring."

  Owen held the ring between his thumb and finger and put it right in front of me. I knew he wanted to stoop down, but I was holding him tightly not wanting him to leave me standing there. I stared at it for a second before reaching out with shaking hands.

  "She already said 'yes', by the way," Owen said, looking at them, and causing them all to laugh and clap.

  I smiled and shook my head at him as I took the ring, stretching upward so that I could kiss him. I gripped the ring in my fist so I wouldn't drop it, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him right on the mouth. I unashamedly kissed him three times in a row, causing the raucous bunch to whoop and holler from their places on the motorcycles.

  After the third kiss, I heard an engine start up, and then another, and then another. Soon the ground beneath my feet was shaking with the loud, low rumble of the engines.

  I stared at Owen, grinning, and he used his thumb to wipe my cheeks where I'd been crying. "Get on," he said. "Everybody's tired from the trip, but we're gonna take a victory lap before they head home."

  "What's a victory lap?" I asked.

  "Come on, and I'll show you," he said.

  I put the ring on my finger before I sat on the back of Owen's motorcycle. He led the way as we drove down my street and into downtown Memphis. We traveled as a huge group, and people pointed, stared, and waved at us.

  We came to the end of Beale Street, and Owen glanced over his shoulder and gave a signal to everyone following us before continuing straight through the light. I looked behind me, and watched as our brigade turned left or right, dispersing behind us and leaving Owen and me alone to finish the ride by ourselves.

  I held onto him tightly and squeezed my eyes shut, hoping I would remember every single detail of the last thirty-minutes of my life.

  Chapter 20

  December 3rd

  The wedding day

  I didn't spend any more nights alone in my house after we got engaged. Owen let Henry move in with me so that he could keep me company and watch out for me until we got married.

  We held the ceremony on the third of December in Owen's grandfather's church. They had expanded over the years, but the 'old sanctuary' was still in good repair and was often used for weddings because of its size and charm.

  There were nearly two hundred people in attendance, and we all walked over to the gym after the ceremony where we enjoyed dinner, dancing, and wedding cake. It felt like a good ole' family get together, which was exactly what we wanted. We could have afforded something far more elegant, but neither of us liked that sort of thing—we would both rather spend the money on a nice trip.

  We had plans to leave for our honeymoon in two days. We would spend ten days on a private island in Belize, and I was so looking forward to relaxing and enjoying the beach with my new husband. Both of us wanted to see places like Scotland, France, or Spain, but it was December, and we figured we'd save those trips for warmer seasons.

  I was excited about our island getaway, but I was even more excited about this very night at my own house right here in Memphis, Tennessee.

  In a world where everybody's in a hurry to do everything, I can truly say there is beauty in patience. I am far from perfect, and I fail at a lot of things, but Owen and I waited to consecrate our relationship, and I can honestly say I am proud and happy about the choice we made.

  It wasn't always easy.

  I had moments of weakness and so did he, but we stuck to our resolve and encouraged each other that it would be worth it, and you know what, it was.

  More and more, I was finding that God's word wasn't just rules and regulations for some strict life. God tells us things because He loves us. He tells us to do or not do certain things because they're what's best for us. He tells us to do things because they're good and they'll help us have a beautiful life and make us happy.

  I was oh so happy we had waited, because now, tonight, at this very moment, I finally got to experience all of Owen Bishop. I was officially Mrs. Bishop, and I felt warm and right about it. It would be his first night to spend at my house, and it already felt like a better place with his presence.

  I was his and he was mine, and there was no going back. I was a little nervous, but mostly, I was excited.

  We had been home from the wedding for about an hour, and Owen had been seeing to Henry and doing some things around the house (including getting our wedding gifts out of the truck). I offered to help, but he said he had it under control, so I got showered and prepared myself for the moment I'd been so anticipating.

  Owen got cleaned up once he was done. We had his and hers bathrooms adjoining our master bedroom, and I had been inside mine when he yelled through the door, telling me he was done with his chores and was jumping in the shower.

  I came out of my bathroom ten minutes later, and was surprised to see him standing in the doorway of his bathroom, casually leaning against the doorframe as he waited for me. Our doors were facing each other, and we were only separated by the space of a hallway.

  I wasn't expecting to see him standing there, so I straightened up when he caught my attention. I was wearing a white negligee that I had bought specifically for the occasion, and he looked me over from head to toe with a serious almost predatory expression that took my breath away.

  He was wearing gray lounge pants. He had several pairs of similar pants, and he wore them often because he knew I loved how they looked. Usually, however, he wore a shirt, and right now he wasn't. His pants hung low on his hips and I couldn't help but stare at the muscles that gloriously peeped out of the top of his waistband. I gazed at his waistline for several long seconds before trailing up his abdomen and over his chest. He had tiny patches of hair growing in all the right places. I was already having trouble catching my breath, and by the time my eyes met his I gave him a self-deprecating smile and shook my head.

  "I can't believe your body is so perfect," I said.

  He touched his own abs and gave me a confident grin. "I did some sit-ups right before you came out here."

  I giggled and held my fist in front of my chest shyly.

  "You're the one who's perfect," he said, sincerely. I watched as his eyes roamed over my body. "This is the best day ever," he said.

  "Like Spongebob?" I asked. I had been a fan of the cartoon when I was younger, and I was nervous and couldn’t help but make a comment about such an obvious Spongebob reference.

  Owen smiled. "Way better than Spongebob," he said. "Spongebob ain't got nothing on this day."

  He paused and continued looking at me with great interest. He was propped against the doorway looking alike a male fitness model, and I took a shaky breath, feeling overwhelmed with anticipation and desire. He used his finger to make a motion in the air in fron
t of him—one that asked me to turn around. I smiled and dropped my hands to my sides as I performed a slow turn.

  "Darcy."

  He said my name when I had my back turned toward him, and I looked at him from over my shoulder, waiting for him to continue. He didn't say anything, so when I was finally facing him again, I asked, "What?"

  "You."

  "What about me?"

  "You're beautiful."

  I smiled shyly. "Thank you."

  "And you're mine."

  "I know," I said, biting my cheek to contain a huge grin. "We did it."

  "Yep," he said.

  "We're married."

  "I know."

  I held out my hand, and Owen took it. I led the way, pulling him to the huge, four-poster king size bed. I had everything prepared for this moment—down to the lighting and the plush white comforter. I was so full of nervous energy that I let go of his hand, ran ahead of him, and climbed onto the bed, positioning myself right in the middle of it. He approached slowly, shaking his head as he looked at me.

  "What have I done to deserve this?" he asked.

  "Everything," I said. "You've done everything. You're Owen Bishop."

  He smiled sweetly at me as he sat on the edge of the bed. He hesitated for long enough that I came to sit next to him. "So, I guess it's pretty much time for this to come off," he said.

  I had seen him without his prosthetic before, but it was only briefly, and never in this type of setting. There was enough reluctance in his voice that I knew he felt a little exposed. I watched as he leaned to one side and then the other, skillfully removing his pants without taking off his boxer briefs. He tossed his pants to the floor and sat there with his legs dangling off the bed.

  My heart pounded as I took in his perfect male body. "Do you need help?" I asked.

  He shook his head, and smiled as he reached down to his right leg. I was sitting on his right side, so I watched the whole maneuver. With one push of a button, his prosthetic loosened and he shifted it until it easily came off in his hands. He gently set it on the floor nearby before turning to look at me. I rested my hand on his knee, feeling like my heart wanted to beat out of my chest. We just looked at each other. I had no idea what he was thinking and he had no idea what I was thinking. I bit my lip.

  "Come try out your new bed," I said.

  Owen's gorgeous face broke into a little grin as he turned and crawled onto the bed. He stayed on top of the covers, but he flopped his head onto the pillows, letting out a sigh like it was the most luxurious place ever.

  "Who needs Belize?" he asked.

  "We do," I said, moving to sit next to him. I positioned myself where our hips were touching, but I sat straight up with my legs out to the side, looking down at Owen. I reached out and let my fingertips touch the rows of muscles on his stomach. "Sit-ups, huh?"

  He smiled and nodded.

  "They worked," I said. I used my fingertips to trace a line down his ribs, over the waistband of his boxers and down his side. I continued down his thigh, moving slowly and using a feather light touch. I kept going, over the side of his knee and several inches below.

  To me, Owen Bishop was a work of art. To me, his leg was far more beautiful the way it was. I honestly didn't see Owen as missing or lacking anything. I thought his body was the definition of perfection. I gently touched the end of his leg, feeling overcome with love and thankfulness. I loved every single thing about him. I still had my fingertips on him when I glanced up to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry if my hands are co—" I started to apologize for my hands being cold, but I stopped in mid-sentence when I realized Owen's hand was resting over his face. "Owen?"

  He lifted his hand and peered down at me. He smiled, but I felt like it was guarded.

  I sprang to his side, landing right next to him with no gracefulness whatsoever. His smile changed and broadened as he adjusted, putting his arm around me and holding me close to his side. I stared directly into his dark eyes for a few seconds before stretching up to kiss his mouth.

  "Owen," I whispered after a kiss. "I love everything about you. I'm the luckiest girl in the whole wide world."

  He kissed me again. "Thank you," he said. He touched the side of my face, smoothing my hair.

  "Guess what?" I added.

  "What?"

  "We don't have to say hold up, or slow down, or any of that tonight."

  He smiled. "We don't?"

  I shook my head. "No rules."

  His eyes widened playfully. "Uh-oh, you're in trouble now," he said.

  I let out a shriek of delight as he grabbed a hold of me, turning me over as he rolled with me. The kiss that followed didn't stop with a kiss. It was a thing of beauty, and that was the way it was supposed to be because I was his and he was mine.

  Epilogue

  Roughly two years later

  Owen and I had been trying to conceive a child for six months. That might not sound like a long time, but I just assumed it would happen on the first try, so every time it didn't, I felt like I had to wait forever to try again.

  I didn't let my frustration show to Owen.

  He had no idea I was anxious about it, but I was ready to be a mom, and I knew what a good dad Owen would be, so it was a little frustrating. I tried my best to not be bothered by it, but it was a bit disheartening and my patience in the matter was somewhat elusive.

  This is why I nearly passed out when I finally took a test that came out positive. I took a test the first day I was late, but it came out negative. I didn't think I was expecting, but I didn't start the next day or the day after that. I took a test every other day, and finally, nearly a week later, the test came out positive.

  I was so anxious about the conflicting tests that I took several in a row, and they all showed that I was indeed carrying a child.

  I kept that whole week of testing and confusion to myself. Owen was a typical man who didn't keep track of my cycle to the day, so he had no idea what was going on. I decided not to tell him. Even after the test came out positive, I kept it to myself.

  Part of me did it because I was a little skeptical about the home pregnancy test, but mostly, I just wanted to surprise him. I made an appointment with my Ob-Gyn, telling them that I had taken a pregnancy test that came out positive and that I wanted to surprise my husband with an ultrasound instead of a stick. They set up an appointment for two weeks later, which seemed like another eternity since I was so excited and was chomping at the bit to tell Owen.

  I don't know how I did it, but I kept the secret for two whole weeks. I told Owen I wanted him to come with me to a doctor's appointment to see about some possible fertility treatment, and that was enough to make him not ask me about my cycle, or ovulation, or any of that.

  So there we were.

  I made it through the two weeks, and now it was finally time for the hard evidence that I was carrying his baby. I had on a hospital gown, and Owen was standing next to me. He had no idea what was going on and still thought we were there to see about fertility treatment. I had filled out paperwork that gave the date of my last period, but he wasn't looking over my shoulder and hadn't seen any of it.

  The ultrasound tech came in with a huge smile. She introduced herself as Jill and came to sit next to me on the opposite side of Owen. She had no idea that I was surprising Owen, so she said some things that could have clued him in, but they were vague enough that I just smiled at her and didn't even look at Owen to see whether or not he was reacting.

  "Okay, so your last period ended on the third, right?" she asked, pulling the cotton gown to the side and exposing my still-flat stomach.

  I nodded.

  "This will be warm," she said as she squirted the clear gel onto my stomach. "That'll put you at about seven weeks," she said.

  I had already done the math a thousand times, and I nodded in agreement when she glanced at me. I looked at Owen, who stared me with a look of ever-growing confusion. His eyebrows were furrowed as if he was trying to understand all of the nurse'
s jargon. I giggled at his expression, but at the same time, tears sprang to my eyes.

  "Is there a baby in there?" he asked, staring straight at me. I was resting my head on the back of the padded chair as I nodded.

  "Was this a surprise?" the nurse asked.

  "Not for me," I said.

  "Yes," Owen said.

  I watched him glance at me, and then my belly, and then the nurse, and then back at me again, doing his best to take it all in. I held his hand in mine, bringing it to my mouth to kiss the back of it as I looked at him.

  "I took a test a couple of weeks ago, but I wanted to wait till I could show you a picture," I said.

  He reached out and touched his fingertips to the side of my stomach, being careful not to interfere with the gel.

  "And, here's the picture you've been waiting for," the nurse said, holding the wand in position with one hand as she gestured to the screen with the other. She moved it around a little bit, trying to bring everything into focus. "Do you have a history of twins in your family?" she asked.

  "No," I said.

  And at the exact same time, Owen said, "Yes."

  My head whipped around to stare at him because I didn't have twins in my family—at least as far as I knew. There were no twins on my dad's side, and I barely knew anything about my mom's side.

  Owen wore a perplexed expression like he couldn't believe I would say 'no' and I wore a perplexed expression like I couldn't believe he would say 'yes'.

  It only took a few confused seconds for me to realize what was going on. "Oh my gosh, your dad and Aunt Jane, huh?" I said.

  Owen nodded like that was obvious, and I slapped a hand to my forehead. "I thought she meant my family," I said. "I didn't even think about your dad."

  "Why'd you ask that?" Owen asked, looking at the nurse.

  She smiled and pointed at the screen. She used two fingers like she was holding up a peace sign. I had no idea what she was pointing at. They looked like blotchy little black beans on the screen, but the nurse was clearly and confidently holding out two fingers instead of one as she pointed at them.