It’s one of my favorites and eerily on point considering the present hidden in my purse.
“And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard,” Shane continues. “And sore must be the storm, That could abash the little Bird, That kept so many warm.”
Tears stinging into my eyes, I make my way onto the patio, searching for Shane, but there’s still no sign of my sweet, wonderful man, only an empty space with his voice filling the air as he finishes the final verse. “I’ve heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest Sea, Yet—never—in Extremity, It asked a crumb—of me.”
He clears his throat lightly. “I was thinking about hope today, Bree, and how I might be able to convince you to have some hope for us. So I went looking for a poem, and this was the first one that popped up. And it was so perfect, like it was written just for us. But even more than that, it made me feel that brain buzz you always talk about.”
I curl my hands together into one fist that I press to my chin. “I’m so glad,” I whisper, not certain where he is or if he can hear me, but sensing that he’s close.
“Even more than that,” he adds in a thicker voice, “it made my heart buzz. It made me feel the way I feel when I’m with you, so overwhelmed by the beauty of the world and how lucky I am to find someone who gets me the way you get me that it hurts. But hurts in a good way, if that makes any sense.”
I nod as I sniff hard, fighting the tears pressing at the backs of my eyes.
“But the past four days haven’t been the good kind of hurt. They’ve sucked all the donkey balls, every single one.”
I laugh, but before I can shout, “Agreed!” Shane presses on.
“I don’t want to break up, doc. I would rather know you’re loving me from thousands of miles away than go to sleep in the same bed with anyone else. There is no one else for me. You’re all I want, all I need, and I promise if you give me a chance, I’ll do everything in my power to make being apart as painless as possible.” He pauses before adding in a more intimate tone, “I hope hearing my voice like this made you feel like I was there with you. Because, if you’ll let me, I intend to trick your apartment out with the best sound system money can buy so any time you feel alone, we can hop on the phone, you can plug in your cell, and my voice can surround you.”
I cover my mouth with my hand, losing the battle against tears as he continues, “But that’s not the only weapon in my love arsenal. I’ve got so much more to offer, doc. Grab the tablet on the bar and see what you think.”
Swiping at my wet cheeks, I cross to the bar and pick up the device. At the touch of a button, the screen flickers to life, showing a still of Shane standing in front of the flea market. I hit play, and my sweet love comes to life.
“Hey there, Bree,” he says with a grin. “If you’re watching this it means you didn’t run as soon as you figured out you were the only person who got an early invite. I’m so glad you’re here, and I can’t wait to show you what I have in store for you.” He waves a hand. “Follow me.”
He turns, jogging toward the front door. A moment later, the frame cuts to Shane standing by Niles in his book booth. “So you agree to help me keep Bree in books?” he asks Niles. “If I get my letter and book selection to you by Friday night?”
Niles nods, pushing his glasses higher on his nose as he nods. “I do. Letter writing is a lost art. Especially love letters. I would be honored to help.”
Shane turns back to the camera, holding up a folded piece of paper. “So it’s settled. Every Sunday we’re apart, you can come down to Niles’ booth and go on a scavenger hunt for a letter tucked into a book I’ve picked out just for you. It won’t be the same as being here with you to hunt for treasure, but I hope it’ll make you feel less alone.”
I’m openly sobbing now, and my nose is starting to run. By the time Shane chats with Mrs. Adamescu about his plan to have gourmet petit fours delivered to her booth for us to share each Sunday, I’m a mess. And then he keeps going, making stops at all our favorite places in town, chatting with our favorite vendors and street artists and chefs and my vinyl hook-up at the Lost Boys Record Emporium, arranging for secret surprises everywhere we loved to go together.
After, he moves on to our friends, arranging for Nick to help me out any time I need something heavy carried up to my apartment, for Stephanie to pop by with groceries Shane’s ordered to make dinner so I won’t end up eating every meal alone, and for Yoda to be on deck for emergency bear hugs, assuming I’m willing to meet at the beach since he doesn’t do cities.
Shane’s gone above and beyond to be here with me without actually being here.
The entire city will be haunted by him.
No, haunted is the wrong word. Shane won’t be a ghost, he’ll be alive and well and sending these messages of love to me through our friends and family. And a part of him will be there with us when Niles gives me a book Shane thought I would like, or Stephanie and I gossip in the kitchen while making a recipe he picked out. He’s doing everything he can to make sure I can weather the loneliness of separation, and I know I can do the same for him.
My mind is already racing, thinking of all the ways I can be with him in spirit as he starts his new life in Kansas City.
We can do this.
We have to do this because there’s no way I’m ever getting over this man. He is mine, and I am his, and I just thank God he made me see the truth before we lost this chance at forever.
A soft squeaking sound catches my attention, and I look up to see Shane emerging from the pool house and starting through the grass toward me. Setting the tablet down on the bar, I don’t walk—I run.
I race across the lawn and hurl my entire body into his arms. And of course, he catches me, holding me tight as I wrap my arms and legs around him for a full-body hug. “I’m so sorry I doubted us, babe. But I promise I’ll never let you go again,” I murmur into his ear. “Never.”
“Never sounds good,” he says, squeezing me even closer. “We can do this, doc. There’s no doubt in my mind.”
I pull back, nodding as I gaze into his beautiful face. “Mine, either. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove. O no! It is an ever-fixed mark, that looks on tempests and is never shaken.”
“Dickinson?” he asks.
“Shakespeare. But I do have a volume of Dickinson in my purse for you. It was going to be my goodbye present.”
His eyes go wide. “Get out.”
“I will not get out,” I say, grinning. “I’m staying right here with you. I intend for us to be joined at the hip until you leave. I’m calling in sick to work the rest of the week, and you will be staying at my place, where we don’t have to look at boxes until the last possible minute.”
“Perfect,” he says, an unspoken question lingering behind the word.
“What?” I ask, brushing his hair from his forehead.
“Nothing, I’m just happy. And relieved. I want to remember this moment. The way you looked when you ran to me.”
Throat tight with emotion, I nod. “Me, too. Thank you for all of this. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”
“Yes, I did,” he insists. “You’re worth it. And I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I say, followed quickly by, “Is anyone in the pool house?”
He shakes his head. “No. Your sister and Will went on a liquor store run. They said they forgot white wine, but I think they wanted to give us some privacy.”
“Privacy is good,” I say, biting my lip. “But being naked together in the pool house is even better. I have condoms in my purse.”
“And I have a hard-on for you that won’t quit,” he says, laughing at the wicked grin that stretches across my face in response. “You’re a sex fiend.”
“Only for you, baby.” I kiss him again before whispering against his lips, “Only for you.”
Less than a minute later, we’re slamming into the pool house, clothes flying as we strip down. Shane gets a condom safely in place, and
we surge back into each other’s arms. And as he makes love to me on the floor by the bed because we couldn’t make it the extra few feet without coming together, the last of my doubt evaporates in a flood of certainty and the richest, deepest kind of hope.
This is the kind of love that nothing can destroy—not time or distance or any other challenge that might come our way.
My buddy with bennies is mine for keeps, and tonight I’m the luckiest girl in Portland or any other city on the planet.
Epilogue
Shane
Eleven Months Later
We’re back where it all started for us, and damn, it feels good.
It’s good to be back in Oregon, surrounded by my favorite people, drinking the coldest craft-brew beer I’ve had in months and watching the love of my life tie a pair of tiny green horns on Stephanie’s sleeping pug.
The gold and gray-whiskered pup is zonked out in a dog stroller, surrounded by the discarded pieces of Stephanie’s astronaut costume, which she decided was too uncomfortable to tolerate two hours into the Alien Days festival.
We’re taking in the festivities from the ground this year and having a blast.
When Bree first suggested we book a room for the weekend, I wasn’t sure I would enjoy two days surrounded by people who think the army is hiding the bodies of little green men in a secret bunker somewhere, but I couldn’t have been more wrong about the crowd. The attendees are campy goofballs who seem to love dressing up, beer, and playing hacky sack like it’s the nineties—in that order.
And my girl looks unexpectedly gorgeous dressed like a sexy robot, complete with a silver bustier, cone shaped skirt, and moon boots that reach all the way to her shapely thighs. Not even the gears and fuel gage she’s painted on her face can detract from how undeniably sexy she is. I can’t wait to get her alone tonight, to have her back in my arms and know I won’t ever have to let go again.
I’m glad Bree invited all our friends to join us for the first day of the festival and a rooftop dinner, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t counting down the hours to when I won’t have to share her.
When she’ll be all mine and I’ll be able to show her how much I’ve missed her these last two weeks apart.
“What do you think?” Bree glances over her shoulder at me before she turns back to the dog, making an adjustment to his radiation-colored antlers. “Does that make him look like an alien? Or a zombie reindeer?”
“Zombie reindeer. Most definitely,” Stephanie says with a laugh.
“But a cute zombie reindeer,” I add, grinning when Bree props her hands on her hips in frustration. “He’s not going to have a chance anyway, doc. Have you seen the greyhound dressed up as Spock from Star Trek? He’s a shoe-in for first.”
“But Sniffles might still have a chance to place. Especially if I can get the three-finger alien booties on his paws.” Bree motions to Stephanie. “Lift him up, and I’ll fish his front legs out from under him.”
Stephanie shakes her head. “Huh-uh. Mr. Sniffles is like an infant. If you wake him from a nap before he’s ready, he will make your life a living hell with his bad attitude. Let’s just push him over to the judging area while he’s asleep and hope for the best.”
“Will they judge him if he’s asleep?” Bree asks, nibbling on her thumb.
“I think half the judges are asleep,” Stephanie says dryly. “Have you seen how much beer those people are drinking? If any of the organizers are conscious for the fireworks display, I will eat my astronaut helmet.”
Bree nods. “Good point. You get Sniffles to the judging area; Shane and I will go grab more beer in case the judges are open to bribery.”
“Sounds good.” Stephanie fishes a five from the back pocket of her jean shorts. “And get me a water, too, will you? I can’t believe how hot it is today.”
Bree waves away Steph’s money. “Your money is no good here, woman. All the water you can drink is on us. Our thank you for driving down here after teaching two classes this morning.”
“Well, thank you, ma’am.” Stephanie grins as she turns the stroller around. “I like this new high-roller side of you. I hope you’ll remember me when you’re even more rich and famous.”
“Right.” Bree rolls her eyes. “We just got into the black two months ago, woman. Don’t jinx us!”
“We’re unjinxable,” I assure Bree. “As long as you keep letting me stock the shop. Since I have the keenest treasure-hunting instincts around.”
Six months ago, I bit the bullet and opened Funky Junk, my unique antique and creepy craft emporium in the Portland Art’s district, finally putting the inventory I’d accumulated throughout the years for sale in a kitschy venue inside an old arcade. Bree convinced me to create a play station at the back with the few functional arcade games and arranged all the display stations herself. By the time she was finished, the space looked so incredible I knew she was the only person fit to run the store.
I hired her as my manager, and within four months, she’s earned back all the seed money and put us firmly in the black. If business continues to build the way it has, soon we’ll both be earning a nice income from the store.
I could retire from the NHL tomorrow if I wanted to.
I confess there were a few moments this past year, when I was missing Bree like an arm or a leg or something even more vital to survival, that I considered leaving it all behind.
But just when I wasn’t sure if I could take another year of long-distance love, a hockey miracle landed in my lap.
A miracle Bree doesn’t know about yet, but I’m not sure how much longer I can hold the news in. I need to spill it all, to see her face light up when she realizes how our lives are about to change.
Stephanie waves as she dives into the crowd, maneuvering the stroller through the street full of aliens, monsters, and a flock of three-eyed crows I think have something to do with the local brewery’s new sour ale.
As she leaves, I wrap my arm around my favorite sexy robot, drawing her close.
“Alone at last,” I murmur into the hair at the back of Bree’s neck, loving the way she shivers in response.
“But not for long.” She turns in my arms. “We have to find Hailey and Will and make sure they don’t run off before the kiddie costume contest. I didn’t paint Isabella green for them to go take a nap in their room during the most vital competition of the day.”
I shake my head. “I can’t believe your sister let you paint her two-month-old baby green.”
“I can’t believe how awesome she looks in lime,” Bree says as she pushes onto tiptoe, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of my nose. “And how much more awesome she’s going to look when I put Mr. Sniffles’s booties on her instead.”
“You think Isabella is going to put up with that?” I run a hand up and down Bree’s back, relishing the feel of her against me. One good thing to come from our long-distance love—it’s made me appreciate every second with her in a way I’m not sure I would have if I hadn’t learned first-hand how hard it is to be away from her for more than a day or two.
Bree leans into me. “Maybe. If she’s asleep. And considering how much she sleeps, we’ve got a shot. You want me to hit the beer tent while you go look for Will and Hailey, or vice versa?”
“I’ll hit the tent and meet you at the pet costume contest judging area,” I say. “But after the costume contests and parade are over, I’m stealing you, okay? I have a surprise that can’t wait until dinner.”
Bree’s eyes light up. “A surprise, huh? I have one of those for you, too. What’s yours? Is it a puppy? The more time I spend with Mr. Sniffles, the more I realize how much I need a puppy in my life. Isn’t he the cutest thing ever? Except for Isabella of course.”
“He is cute, but it’s not a puppy. It’s smaller than a pug but bigger than a pair of zombie reindeer antlers.”
She chews her lip as her gaze lifts to the cloudless sky overhead. “Hmm…bigger than antlers, but smaller than a pug. Is it a book?”
“A record?” She crosses her fingers. “Maybe that live Miles Davis with John Coltrane we’ve been trying to find?”
I cluck my tongue. “Nope, though I have been hunting for that one. Two guesses down. Do you want another clue?”
Bree shakes her head. “No, no more clues. Let me think on it while I track down Hailey and the baby.” She starts to pull away, but pauses, cupping my face with a tender smile. “I love you. I’m so glad you’re home with me for the summer, baby.”
“Me, too, doc. So glad.” The secret rises inside me, threatening to spill out right here, right now. But a crowded street filled with sweaty humans dressed as aliens and smelling faintly of spilled beer isn’t the place.
I hold my tongue, kiss Bree firmly, but chastely, and head to the beer tent.
Thankfully, the rest of the afternoon passes quickly, in a haze of laughing and eating copious amounts of popcorn while watching the alien-themed floats wheel by from the shade of our hotel’s generous awning. Mr. Sniffles doesn’t place in the pet costume contest, but Isabella takes first in the infant division. The trophy is bigger than she is, and she preciously sleeps through the entire process, even having her picture taken propped up next to her prize.
And then, finally, it’s the moment I’ve been waiting for all day.
Bree and I step out of the elevator onto the roof, where the hotel staff is busy preparing for dinner service, including setting the giant table where Bree and I are hosting dinner for our friends tonight. But no one stops to stare as we cross to the still-closed bar. I arranged this visit with the hotel’s concierge a week ago, and clearly, the staff has been apprised of what’s about to happen.
Shit…
What’s about to happen…
This is it, the moment I’ve been dreaming about since Christmas, when I bought the ring burning a hole in my pocket. I just hope it’s as perfect as I want it to be, a proposal uniquely suited to my girl that she’ll remember forever.
Puck Buddies Page 17
