Letting Go: A Contemporary Romance of Snark and Feels

by Abbie Zanders

  Something told me that wouldn’t be an issue.

  I grabbed Ethan’s shirt and pulled it over my head. “Well, you’re the one that ripped mine,” I said when he raised his eyebrow at me. “Besides, you can get away with going shirtless. I can’t.”

  He grinned, a wicked, smug grin that got my well-worked girlie parts tingling again. I fought the whimper that tried to escape as he pulled on his jeans and tucked his happy stick away.

  “Well, not in public or in front of my father,” I amended.

  Oh, God. My father.

  Ethan must have read my mind. “Relax, kitten. Your father already knows.”

  “He does?”

  “I informed him of my intentions before I came looking for you.”

  Why was I not surprised? “You did, huh? You didn’t ask permission?”

  “No. I wanted his blessing, of course, but your answer is the only one that truly matters to me.”

  If I hadn’t already fallen in love with him, I would have in that very moment.

  We made our way back to the house, sneaking around to the back so we wouldn’t be spotted until we had a chance to pull ourselves back together. Ethan looked gorgeous as always, but I was sure I was a mess in a glorious post-coital I-just-got-engaged-to-a-sex-god kind of way. The glow would probably be sticking around for a while (I couldn’t do much about that), but I needed a quick shower and fresh clothes of my own before I could face Dad and Uncle Cal.

  With a searing kiss in front of my bedroom door that weakened my knees, he patted me on the ass with husky growls of “later” and told me he’d stall until I was ready.

  Our fathers didn’t seem at all surprised when we went in together and shared our news, which was kind of anti-climactic. They both seemed pleased. I might have caught a discreet fist-bump in my peripheral vision. We drank a toast amidst the congratulations, then Dad and Uncle Cal started talking about grandbabies and things got weird. Well, for me, anyway.

  I left them to continue, using the excuse of making lunch, my mind whirring with everything that had happened. In the span of a few hours, I’d gotten engaged and climaxed three times at the hand, tongue, and cock of my very own fiancé. It was hard to say which was more surprising. I’d all but given up hope of doing any of those things.

  Ethan came looking for me shortly after, probably to make sure I hadn’t ‘started thinking again’ as he put it and changed my mind. There wasn’t a chance of that. I could be stubborn and difficult, but I wasn’t an idiot.

  I could be mistaken, but I think his walk had a bit more cocky swagger to it. “Pleased with yourself then, are you?”

  “Immensely,” he admitted, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against him. “I did the impossible. I found the perfect woman and I got her to agree to marry me.”

  I laughed. He kissed the top of my head and released me to grab a couple of plates out of the cupboard. “They’ve already decided we should get married before the end of the summer.”

  “Hmmm. And how do you feel about that?”

  He shrugged. “Today, tomorrow, six months from now, doesn’t matter to me. As long as you’re wearing my ring and sharing my bed, I’m good. I told them it’s up to you.”

  I didn’t say anything right away, focusing on dishing out the chili I had simmering in the crockpot and arranging a tray of cheese, crackers, and grapes.

  “Probably the sooner the better,” I said as casually as I could.

  “Works for me. But my sister took a year and a half to plan her dream wedding.”

  “I don’t need that long. A simple civil ceremony is enough for me.”

  When Ethan didn’t respond, I turned around to find him staring at me, his head cocked slightly. “Something you want to tell me, Hannah?”

  Already he knew me so well. I pulled him over to the chair and made him sit down, then straddled his lap and put my arms around his neck. “Nothing definite,” I said. “But there are probably a few things you should know.”

  “Okay.”

  “Well, first, I’m not on the pill. I haven’t been for a while. There’s been no need.”

  “All right,” he said slowly, drawing the words out.

  “And second, well, my monthly cycle is pretty consistent.”

  “Okay.”

  “And... you chose to issue your challenge right in the middle of that cycle.”

  I saw the realization beginning to dawn and decided to press on. “What I’m saying is, I’m ovulating, Ethan. And some of those things you said behind the waterfall, well, they might just come to be sooner rather than later, if you know what I mean.”

  He blinked, then looked down between us. “Are you saying that you might be...?”

  “Pregnant? Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. It will be a couple of weeks before we know for sure, but it is a distinct possibility, and you need to be prepared for that.”

  Ethan

  My gaze raked up from Hannah’s midsection until I met her eyes. Her beautiful, dove gray eyes. Her voice had been even, but I knew my girl. She was holding her breath, waiting for my reaction.

  For several long moments, so was I.

  I’d meant every word I’d said earlier. I wanted to plant myself deep inside her and watch her grow round with my kids, a whole brood if possible. I just hadn’t expected that it would happen quite so soon.

  Yet even as her words sunk in, a new feeling came over me. One that was far beyond anything I’d ever felt before. Protective. Possessive. And wondrous. That’s not a word I use often. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever used that word before. But that’s the closest I could come to describing the feels that moved in and took up residence.

  I didn’t even try to voice that. Instead, I cupped the back of her head and pulled her lips to mine, pouring everything I was feeling into that kiss. I was vaguely aware of her melting against me, returning the sentiment with equal fervor. It was only then that I realized just how worried she’d been. Clearly, she still doubted my commitment, so I spent the next several minutes reassuring her.

  When I finally released her, her lips were swollen and her eyes were glassy with unshed tears (happy ones), and the uncertainty was gone.

  “I love you, Ethan,” she whispered.

  “I love you too, Hannah. And the sooner I can get you to say ‘I do’, the happier I’m going to be.”

  I should have known the old men were already a few steps ahead of us. By the time we made it back with lunch, they had it all worked out.

  “Father Rogers says the church is free three weeks from this Saturday,” the Colonel told us, tucking away his mobile.

  “Three weeks isn’t a lot of time,” Hannah pointed out, which I thought was pretty clever on her part. Yeah, our dads wanted us together, but they didn’t need to know I might have already gotten her pregnant.

  “I don’t have a lot of time,” her father huffed. “And if you’re anything like your mother,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, “neither do you.” My dad laughed.

  Hannah blushed profusely as she told me, “My mother was pregnant when she and Dad got married.”

  Well, so much for that. I grinned, trying not to look too smug. “Three weeks from Saturday it is.”

  Time flew by in a blur of activity. Hannah took care of most of the arrangements. She was incredibly organized, and we shared simple tastes. As long as Hannah was happy and I got her to the altar, I was good.

  We planned a very small service, just the two of us and our fathers. No maid of honor, no best man, since neither one of us could think of anyone we wanted to stand beside us. We took a trip into Dixon, where Hannah walked into a bridal shop and came out with a simple, off-the-rack wedding dress she declared to be perfect. I was a little concerned that she picked out something so quickly, but Hannah looked me right in the eye and said, “When you find the right one, there’s no reason to look any further.”

  Couldn’t argue with that now, could I?

  Despite our intentions to keep
things small and low-key, the church continued to fill right up until the service began. Apparently weddings are a big thing in Muskrat Falls, and since the event had been noted in the church bulletin, word had gotten around fast.

  No one was more surprised than us when, after pronouncing us man and wife, Father Rogers announced that the reception would be held immediately following in the church hall. We hadn’t planned a reception, just a nice dinner with the dads.

  “Did you know about this?” Hannah whispered as we walked down the aisle. I shook my head. “No. Maybe it’s a trap. Think we should make a run for it?”

  She laughed. “Probably. But I’m curious.”

  I had to admit, I was too. It wasn’t something either of our fathers would have done, and from what I knew, Hannah was friendly, but not real chummy with any of the Muskrat Falls locals.

  We walked the short distance from the church to the hall with half of the town following in our wake. The other half was already there, and they’d been busy. The place had been decorated with twisted white streamers hanging down in arcs from the ceiling, accentuated with paper honeycomb bells in various sizes. Folding chairs flanked long tables covered in white cloths and adorned with centerpieces of fresh flowers. On a small stage to the left, five men were setting up microphones and instruments, including the largest accordion I’d ever seen. Beyond that, two guys in snappy vests and slicked back hair tended bar.

  We were guided to a table for four that faced the rest of the room, passing a six-tiered wedding cake that looked nothing like the small chocolate number Hannah had picked out. Women with aprons draped over their Sunday finest bustled about with crockpots and hot pads, beaming at us. We stopped and stared, trying to piece it all together.

  “Congratulations, Hannah. You are a beautiful bride. Ethan, you are a lucky man indeed.” I turned to find real-life Mario holding out his hand to me. Since Hannah was now officially mine, I decided I would shake his hand.

  “Jake, what’s going on?” Hannah asked.

  Jake grinned. “You didn’t really think you were going to get away with a small private ceremony, did you?”

  “But...”

  “But nothing. You know Muskrat Falls is a party town. We couldn’t let an opportunity like this slip by without a celebration. You’re one of us now. Both of you,” he added with a nod in my direction, which I thought was a decent, classy move. The MF Mario rose a couple notches in my opinion.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything. Just relax and enjoy it.”

  Oddly enough, we did. Oh, it wasn’t like we fit right in and everything was perfect; there were some awkward moments. As long as Hannah and I were together, it was all good, and most of the townspeople did seem genuinely nice. The highlight of my evening was when this rather round, pink-faced woman asked me to dance and Hannah told her point blank to find someone else (though Hannah’s precise wording was more colorful than that). It seemed my woman was every bit as possessive about me as I was with her.

  I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Epilogue

  Angus

  Time is winding down for me. Has been for quite a while, in fact, but I’ve lasted longer than anyone thought I would. It’s getting harder to breathe now. The oxygen helps, but death is inevitable. Not just for me, for all of us. There can be no other ending. We like to pretend we have forever, but forever is no more than the blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things, really.

  I’m not bitter, not at all. On the contrary, I consider myself one of the lucky ones. I had advance warning. I was able to plan, to put things in order, and make sure everything was exactly as it should be before I close up shop and follow Elvis out of the building.

  I’d reconnected with my daughter. It took a while, but eventually we started talking. Really talking. It wasn’t like you see on those talk shows. There were tears, angry words, hurt from wounds that went far deeper than I’d ever imagined. But once we cleaned them out and bandaged them up, they started to heal.

  She and Ethan have been married seven years next month. I have to admit, that boy has exceeded every one of my lofty expectations. He has not only proven himself a man worthy of my baby girl, he has also given me four grandchildren with another on the way. Yep, you heard right. Five kids in seven years. Two strapping boys and two beautiful little angels, with one unknown arriving soon. Blue eyes, gray eyes, and a mix of the two. And none of them have Cal’s bright red hair, thank God. With their combined Scots-Irish parentage, I have a feeling my son-in-law is going to need every bit of his specialized Ranger training to keep some semblance of order in the ranks.

  Cal comes by almost daily. He has his own room here now so he doesn’t have to worry about driving back late at night when the kids talk him into staying past dinner. We added on a new wing to the house, too. When my great-great-grandparents first built this place, they had twelve people living in what amounted to one big room. Now everyone has their own space. I think that’s a good thing.

  I can hear Maggie’s voice sometimes now. She comes to me in my dreams and tells me it won’t be long before we’re together again. My boy, too. It will be hard to let go, but they assure me that I’ll still be able to watch Hannah and Ethan and the grandkids from where we are, so I have to believe it will all work out.

  In the meantime, I promised my grandson Liam a game of checkers...

  About ALS

  It’s important to note that Letting Go is a work of fiction, and the portrayal of Angus’s condition and life expectancy is more optimistic than realistic.

  Commonly known as “Lou Gehrig’s Disease” for its most famous victim, ALS stands for Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis. It’s one of the more well-known MNDs, or “Motor Neurone Diseases”.

  ALS is a fatal, degenerative disease with no known cure. Over time, it grows progressively worse, damaging areas of the brain and spinal cord that control muscle function. Mental and sensory awareness are not typically affected, but every case is different. Little by little, victims lose control of their muscles and limbs until even breathing becomes impossible. It is heartbreaking.

  Recent estimates are that nearly half a million people worldwide suffer from ALS, with someone new diagnosed every 90 minutes. It generally affects people over 40, and occurs most often in people with no family history of the disease.

  As per ALifeStory.org, “...early signs and symptoms include muscle cramps and twitching, weakness in the extremities, and difficulty speaking and swallowing”. ALS is not terribly common, so it’s important to contact your healthcare provider and get properly diagnosed and treated as soon as possible if you or someone you know is experiencing these early warning signs.

  For more information, please check out one of these helpful resources:

  https://www.alifestoryfoundation.org

  http://www.mndassociation.org/

  http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/amyotrophic-lateral-sclerosis

  Thanks for reading Ethan, Hannah, and Angus’s story

  You didn’t have to pick this book, but you did. Thank you!

  If you liked this story, then please consider posting a review online! It’s really easy, only takes a few minutes, and makes a huge difference to independent authors who don’t have the mega-budgets of the big-time publishers behind them.

  Log on to your favorite online retailer and just tell others what you thought, even if it’s just a line or two. That’s it! A good review is one of the nicest things you can do for any author.

  As always, I welcome feedback. Email me at abbiezandersromance@gmail.com or connect with me on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/AbbieZandersRomance/

  To receive info on new releases, sales, giveaways, and other good stuff, sign up for my monthly newsletter: https://abbiezandersromance.com/newsletter-signup/

  Thanks again, and may all of your ever-afters be happy ones!

  Abbie

  If you like snarky contemporary romance...

&n
bsp; ... then check out this excerpt from the The Realist...

  “Earth to Rissa.” Travis’ deep voice rolled through me like a wave, tugging me away from my reflections. His shortened address felt warm, intimate. No one had ever called me that before. “If you’re finished ogling me, I’m going to head back to my place.”

  I felt the heat rise in my face. Yes, I had been ogling him, but I’d zoned out for the last couple of minutes. I don’t know what bothered me more – the fact that he’d caught me in the act or that I’d wasted several minutes of prime ogling time.

  “I’m done,” I said casually, waving my hand in a shooing gesture. “You can go now.”

  He grinned cockily. “Lasagne.”

  “What?”

  “That’s what I want for dinner. Lasagne. With lots of meat and that chunky homemade sauce of yours.”

  I blinked, looking at him blankly.

  “Our deal,” he reminded me. “You get manual labor. I get food. Your roof is fixed. And I’m hungry for lasagna.”

  “Right,” I nodded. I knew that. I did.

  He leaned down and petted Ripper, who had become my shadow. The scent of clean male sweat and heat-activated deodorant tickled my nose and I discreetly filled my lungs with it.

  “I’ll be back around sundown. And Rissa?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t stare at my ass while I’m walking away. It’s objectifying.”

  I openly gaped at him, but he just winked and strutted – yes, strutted – out of my kitchen like a big male peacock.

  I showed him, though. I stared at his ass the whole way.

  Praise for The Realist:

  “I loved this book. Loved the characters and the way the story was told. There was no bad guy, etc. just these two and how they come together. Great read. Very entertaining and I definitely recommend it. Feel good when you are finished reading!!” ~ Amazon Top 1000 Reviewer Gatorfan