by Karen Cimms
“Nothing.” I smiled some more.
Chase was dropping off some old junker that Wally wanted for parts. I’d ridden over with him in the tow truck. As I stood at the window, he uncoiled the chains on the rollback. The wind was blowing, and he kept pushing his hair out of his face with his forearm. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but judging by the way he and Wally were laughing, I assumed there was some good-natured ribbing going on between them.
“Seriously,” she asked, looking at the two of them and perhaps not finding Wally still as adorable as I found Chase. “What are you smiling at?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just like watching him, I guess.”
Chase moved around to the front of the truck, pulled open the door, and climbed inside.
“If you like looking at him so much, why don’t you just say yes? Then you can look at him anytime you want.” She stared up at me and blinked her baby blues, then slowly raised her eyebrows in a silent and prolonged “Hmm?”
“Other than when he’s at work or under that race car in your garage, I do get to look at him whenever I want. We don’t need to be married for me to be able to look at him.”
She let out an exaggerated sigh.
“Is he or is he not the best man you’ve ever known?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Does he or does he not treat you better than any man you’ve ever known?”
I nodded.
“Is he or is he not the best sex you’ve ever had?”
“Diane!” I laughed. “I never told you that.”
“You don’t have to. You’re not the only one who can read minds, you know.”
“Since when?”
“Baby, all I have to do is look at your face when you look at him. Jeez, even Wally can read your mind, and the only thing he reads is the TV Guide and the directions on the back of his Hot Pockets.”
“Why do you still let him eat that crap?”
“Because I can’t cook for him six times a day, and don’t change the subject.”
I shook my head and went back to spying out the window. All Chase was doing was unhooking a car from the rollback. It was probably something he did two or three times a day. I could even understand if he’d been shirtless, but it was May and he had on a T-shirt, thick work gloves, and steel-toed boots. But just watching him move, laughing, comfortable in his own skin—well, I could’ve watched him all day.
“Oh, my god. Please don’t tell me it’s Preston.”
My heart leaped to my throat. “What?”
“Preston. Please don’t tell me the reason you won’t marry Chase is because of Preston, that you have some sick, misguided idea in your head that he’ll be back.”
I wanted to clamp my hand over her mouth. I shuddered. Call me superstitious, but I still believed in the Betelgeuse rule, and I didn’t need what’s his name appearing in Diane’s dining room. Or anywhere else in my life. I hadn’t heard from him in months, and I didn’t want any reincarnations, thank you very much.
“Of course not,” I said, horrified. “How could you think that?”
She settled her hands on her hips. “How? Because you’re with a gorgeous man who worships the ground you walk on, whose baby your carrying, yet you refuse to marry him. Why wouldn’t I think that? It’s not like you’ve ever been clearheaded when it comes to Preston.”
I cringed. Four times. She’d said his name four times. That couldn’t be good.
“And I’ll tell you another thing. I’m not the only one who thinks that.” Her eyebrows inched upward.
“Who would think that?”
“No one’s said anything to Chase, of course, at least not that I know of. But the guys talk, and you know Wally. He’s an old lady in a forty-two extra long.”
I faced the window again. The old Impala was parked outside Wally’s garage. Chase was rewinding the chains. Of course there was a reason I wasn’t marrying him: his family. I couldn’t imagine willfully avoiding his mother for the rest of our lives.
My own mother would never have been this pigheaded about something. Even with Preston—oh my god, five times—but even with what’s his name, she let me know she disapproved, yet she never threatened to disown me or turn her back on me.
Chase saw his brother five days a week, but their relationship was still strained. I could only imagine what Dylan and Lorraine had said when they learned I was having a baby.
I thoroughly believed that Dylan had tried to convince Chase it wasn’t his. And if I was right, that would’ve made things that much worse between them, even though Chase knew Dylan could be right.
But the idea of Chase’s thinking I wouldn’t marry him because I was still in love with he who shall remain nameless? That I couldn’t bear. That would destroy any chance we had for happiness.
Chase reached up to secure the chains. As he did, his shirt inched up, exposing the skin around his waist. I went weak in the knees.
When he saw me at the window, he grinned. Warm and tingly, it went straight through to my spine. When he and Wally began walking toward the house, I grabbed my purse.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” I said, hoisting the strap over my shoulder. “We have to go.”
Diane was dumping chips into a basket lined with a paper napkin.
“I thought you were staying. I made dip.”
“You stirred onion soup mix into a container of sour cream.”
“I had to rinse the spoon and put it in the dishwasher, didn’t I?” She folded her arms and gave me a long look. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just remembered something I need to do. I’ll call you tomorrow.” I beat a path out the door, cutting Chase and Wally off before they reached the house.
“What’s wrong?” Chase asked as I came barreling through the door. I pulled it closed behind me.
“Diane has a headache, so we’re going to take a rain check.” I slipped my hand into his and started pulling him toward the truck.
“She was fine twenty minutes ago,” Wally argued.
“It came on all of a sudden,” I said. “You should go see if she needs anything.”
He glanced up at his back door. “Yeah. Hey, I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s okay,” I called over my shoulder.
Chase helped me into the cab and climbed in beside me. “That’s too bad. I have to drop the truck off at the station, but we can stop at Blondie’s if you want or go to a movie or something, since Izzy is spending the weekend at your mother’s.”
I shook my head. “I have a better idea. It might be a little crazy, but I hope you’ll say yes.”
“Does it involve one of your cravings? Other than a pitcher of margaritas, I’ll get you anything you want.”
“Is that a promise?” I held my arm across the console. He took it and kissed the back of my hand.
“You know it is.”
“Good. Let’s drop this off and head home.”
Chase hadn’t proposed to me in at least a month. It was possible that he’d gotten sick of asking or that he’d changed his mind, but I didn’t think so.
It was time for me to worry about my own happiness, and to hell with anyone who wanted to stand in the way.
If he wasn’t going to ask me to marry him again, then I’d just have to ask him.
And I knew the perfect place.
Chapter Fifty
We hadn’t been back to Cape May since Chase first brought me here to see the sunrise. But with it being such a special place for him and now me as well, it was the perfect place to take the next step.
I’d checked the weather report last night before we left. It called for clear, sunny skies in the mid-seventies, which meant we would have a perfect sunrise.
It didn’t matter. Even if it had predicted rain, I would have hauled Chase out here, gotten down on my knees, and begged him to marry me. But this way was much better. Rain makes my hair frizz, and I wanted to look my best.
“I still can’t believe you t
alked me into this,” Chase said, grumbling as he helped me waddle over the dunes near the lighthouse. I had a towel tucked into my bag, as well as a bottle of Heineken. The stores had already closed when we left last night, so I couldn’t get any champagne, which would have been festive. Of course, Chase wouldn’t have let me have any, and honestly, he probably preferred the beer.
I planned to propose as soon as the sun broke the horizon. I wanted it to be perfect. I couldn’t have come up with a better plan even if I’d had more than two hours to come up with one.
Trudging through the sand was wearing me out, and I was already winded. My flip-flops were slowing me down, and we should have been in place already.
“Stop,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “Let me take my shoes off.”
I could see the first threads of orange and pink stretching across the horizon and reflecting on the water. I kicked off my shoes and tried to pick them up, but my belly wouldn’t allow me to bend.
Holding on to me with one hand, Chase snatched them up, and we kept walking.
I scanned the beach until I found the perfect spot, and we trudged toward it. I dropped my bag, which was a big mistake, because now I couldn’t bend to pull out the towel.
“Could you hand me the bag?”
“You just put it down.”
“I know, but I forgot I needed something.”
He picked up the bag and peered inside. I snatched it from his hands before he saw the bottle of Heineken. “Hey! I have personal stuff in there.”
Even in the dim light, which was growing brighter by the second, I could tell he wasn’t too happy with me. This might all blow up spectacularly in my face.
“I just want everything perfect. And I don’t want to miss the sunrise.”
“We could’ve been here a lot earlier if you hadn’t needed to put on a full face of makeup. It’s the beach. No one cares.”
“Don’t be grumpy. I want this to be a special day for us.”
He looked out over the ocean, then back at me.
“I do too. I’m sorry. I guess I’m just a little stressed out.”
“Why? This is your favorite place, right? You should be unstressing.”
“I’m not sure that’s a word.”
“Well, it should be.”
The first rays of brilliant orange broke the horizon. I grabbed hold of his arms and tried to lower myself to my knees, which wasn’t easy, especially with Chase trying to pull me back up.
“Stop,” I said. Struggling against him was useless; he was insanely strong. He pulled me back to my feet.
The sun continued to rise.
“I want to get down on the sand.”
“Let me get the towel.”
“Forget the towel. Just help me get down!”
Ignoring me, he pulled the towel closer and smoothed it out. Then he sat and held his arms out to help me down.
“No. You get up. I need to go down.”
He looked at me like I was crazy. “I can’t sit on your towel?”
“No. You stand.”
Grumbling and cursing under his breath, he stood. Not expecting much help from him at this point, I grabbed onto his belt loops and began lowering myself, tugging his pants down along with me.
“What the hell are you doing?” He grabbed my wrist just as my knees hit the towel. So much for a lifetime of squats. Where were they when I needed them?
Apparently my little exercise had given him the completely wrong impression.
“Are you kidding? We can’t do that here. Someone might see us. If you wanted to do that on the beach, we should have gotten here while it was still dark.”
Oh, for crying out loud. Did he think that was the only reason a woman would be on her knees? Although, other than scrubbing the floor, I couldn’t think of any.
“That’s not what I was about to do.”
“Well, then what are you doing besides missing the sunrise?”
A strange, uncomfortable feeling came over me, and I held onto his leg a little tighter. He was so tall I was having trouble seeing his face, given how close I was to him.
“Can you come down here?”
“You just yelled at me to stand up.”
“I know. Could you just humor me?”
He dropped down onto his knees in front of me. “What?”
This could go down as one of the worst proposals of all time. I tried to regain my focus.
“Chase, I love you very much. I should’ve known the first night we met when we shook hands, but I was too stubborn. And I should’ve known the night of my birthday when you kissed me, because I had never in my life been kissed like that. And I should’ve known the first time you brought me here to see the sunrise.
“But that’s when I started to know. And from then on, it just kept growing. Each day, I think I can’t possibly love you more, but I’m always wrong, because with each new day, my love for you gro—oh, shit.”
Panic flashed across his face. He gripped my shoulders. “What?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. I’m just uncomfortable.”
“Then sit. Why are you kneeling?”
I shifted my weight a bit, trying to relieve some of the pressure on my legs.
“I’m fine. Where was I?”
“I have no idea. I think you were telling me how much you love me.”
“Right. I do. More than I ever believed it was possible to love someone.”
“You’re squeezing my hand really hard. Are you all right?”
I sucked in a lungful of ocean air and nodded vigorously. “Yep. Fine. I just need a moment.”
“Okay. While you’re catching your breath, can I say something?”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
He settled a hand on my hip, and when his eyes met mine, they were shiny. “I’m not sure where you were going with all that a moment ago, but I’ve been in love with you for just as long.”
He opened his hand, and in it lay a diamond ring. A simple round solitaire that had to be far too expensive. The most perfect ring I’d ever seen.
“Will you marry me?”
I gave him a shove and blinked back the tears that had sprung to my eyes. “Damn it, Chase. I was trying to propose.”
He looked dubious. “Seriously? That was what you were doing?”
Nodding, I wiped at the stray tears that tracked down my cheeks and held my arms up for him to help me to my feet. Then I held out a shaky hand, and he slipped the ring on my finger, which hummed and sparked at his touch.
And then he kissed me, and the electricity coursing through me a moment earlier was nothing compared to what his lips were doing to me now.
When we stopped to take a breath, I told him I’d brought him a Heineken to celebrate.
“It’s not even six o’clock in the morning.” He kissed me again. “How about we go back to the room, celebrate another way, and then I’ll drink that Heineken?”
“We can’t.”
“Sure we can.”
“No, we can’t. We have to go.”
“Why?”
“Because my water just broke.”
Chapter Fifty-One
My arm supported Rain’s back. Her hand gripped mine, and I raised her into a sitting position. The grunts and groans coming from her barely sounded human, and the louder she cried out, the harder my gut twisted.
Why would any woman in her right mind want to give birth?
“Okay, stop,” Dr. Hart ordered. “Good girl. One or two more good pushes and we’ll have ourselves a baby.”
I lowered Rain gently against the pillow. Strands of damp hair clung to her face. I brushed them out of the way and kissed her forehead. “You’re doing great, babe. Really. And if you never want me to touch you again after this, I’ll understand.”
She laughed. It was weak, but it was still a laugh. “Let’s see how it goes, and I’ll get back to you on that.” She squeezed my fingers. It was a far cry from the punishing grip of just a few moments earlier.
The pressure on my hand intensified.
“Again,” she said through gritted teeth.
I wished there was a deep-breathing exercise to calm my racing heart.
I helped her into a sitting position. “C’mon, baby. You’re almost there.”
“Make it count, Rain,” Dr. Hart said.
I didn’t think she was strong enough to break any of the bones in my hand, but the way she was gripping me, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had cracked one or two. She grunted and her body sagged against my arm.
“I see hair,” Dr. Hart said.
I didn’t move, not wanting to let her go, until Rain tilted her face toward me. I’d never seen her look more exhausted or more beautiful. I leaned forward, trying to peek over the top of Rain’s knee, but before I could actually see anything, she grabbed my hand.
“Are you ready to push again?” the nurse standing on the other side of the bed asked.
Rain nodded as I scrambled back into position.
“Deep breath now, and push,” Dr. Hart said.
“C’mon, baby, you can do it. Push.”
“Good girl, Rain,” the doctor said. “Keep pushing. Deep breath. And push, push, push.”
The nurse continued the chant, repeating what the doctor had started. I held my breath in sympathy as Rain pushed until her face turned beet red, and I thought she might burst a blood vessel. She released her breath in a rush of air and slumped back. I heard a low mewl, then a much stronger, much louder cry that sounded like it was being played on tightly strung rubber bands.
“It’s a boy!” Dr. Hart stood and placed our tiny, wriggling son on Rain’s chest. His pale lavender skin was about two sizes too big. His face was pink, but the more he howled, the pinker he became, until he was almost red. What little hair I could make out was wet and blond and plastered to the top of his head. A nurse briskly rubbed a soft blanket over his skin, cleaning him.
