“The ultimate spit pact?” I asked, giving him a teasing smile. “What do you say, Banks?”
He grinned back at me, causing my heart to melt at the deep dimples in his cheeks. “Well, I thought a ring would seal the deal, but you’re right.” As he stood, he spit in his own hand and placed it in mine. It was wet, slimy, and oh so unbelievably perfect.
My heart flip-flopped as he repeated his question.
“Will you marry me, Sierra?”
“Yes!” I shouted.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and twirled me around. I cupped his cheeks, gazing down into the gorgeous eyes of my future husband.
“A better ending than Copper and Tod. Much, much better than Dawson and Joey.”
“That’s because a new it couple has taken over. From now on, it’s Jeremy and Sierra.”
“That’s the way it’s always been.”
“And always will be.”
“Always?”
“Forever.”
WHEN I WAS A teenager, I once told Jeremy I didn’t need fancy. I just needed him. Even though we were now in our twenties and could afford fancy, the thought still rang true. So that’s why, just four short weeks later, I was back to where it had all begun and more than ready to say, “I do.”
After Jeremy had proposed, we’d finished dinner, celebrated with our families, and then snuck away for a celebration of our own. We were lying in his bed, breathless and sated from commemorating our engagement in the most intimate way. I held my hand out, admiring the solitaire square-cut diamond he’d given me. Knowing it’d been his grandmother’s meant the world to me, and I’d wear it proudly for the rest of my life. His fingers came to mine and he kissed my hand. I rested my chin on his naked chest and grinned up at him.
“So, now that we’re engaged, you don’t mind having sex in my parents’ basement?” I teased.
He growled at me, flipping me onto my back and sinking slowly back into me, filling me to the hilt. I nearly forgot what I’d said as he held himself inside me. His eyes were glazed with lust, and he held my hands just above my head.
“Marry me,” he whispered.
“I believe I already said yes,” I panted, breathless as he resumed making love to me.
His movements were slow, methodical, and with how close we were, he was creating a delicious friction on my clit that had me writhing beneath him, wanting…needing more.
He leaned down and peppered kisses along my jaw. “Marry me, baby,” he said, his lips finding my ear.
“Mmm,” was all he got in response.
And that’s when he stopped—and when I whimpered. I lifted my hips, rolling them, but he pushed down, holding me in place on the bed.
“Marry me.”
As my orgasm began to recede, I frowned. “Yes, Jeremy. I’ll always says yes,” I whispered.
He lifted up and gazed down into my eyes. “As soon as possible. I want that ring on your finger. My last name on your license. You livin’ in my house, where I can make you scream my name and you won’t have to hold it in so your parents won’t hear.”
I nodded, and he entered me with a driving thrust that stole my breath. I was nearing the precipice of my climax and he was fully aware. With three more deliberate thrusts, I was seized by a rush of sensation so intense I swore I saw stars.
“As soon as possible,” he said against my lips as he pulled out and spilled his release on my belly.
That’s when I realized I wanted soon, too.
Those four weeks dragged, and they also flew. They were frantic at times, but knowing I was going to marry the love of my life in less than a month made every ounce of the stress I experienced worth it.
It was simple. It was relatively easy. It was just like us, and it was beautiful.
We were getting married in the place where we’d met. The place where we’d first loved. The place where I’d set my hand in his and gave him my forever. The place where he had done the same.
Since we were back in Navarre, we could’ve invited all of our old friends. Had a huge party. Celebrated all night long. But, at the end of the day, we decided to keep it low-key. We just wanted each other and our families. That would be enough.
As I stood in front of the walkway, part of me wanted to run, sprint, even fly, because I knew what was awaiting me. Jeremy. Forever. My husband. The other part, however, wanted to glide slowly, soaking up every single detail along the way.
It couldn’t have been a more perfect day. Even though it was late June, the temperatures were unusually cool that evening. The sun was setting. The breeze was blowing. And the waves were chipping in, creating their own beautiful soundtrack to highlight this day and where we were.
The beach.
Our beach.
This place had always been home for me, ever since I’d met my best friend, the love of my life. At least, it had been until we’d moved to Ohio and I’d realized Jeremy was my home. My head against his chest, our fingertips laced and held on his stomach as we stole moments of intimacy. The way he reverently paused for a split second every time he sank into my depths and whispered my name, a sound so perfect coming from his lips. As if he really did believe that it was his love sanctuary and he was offering his reverence. Jeremy’s arms, Jeremy’s embrace, Jeremy’s heart. That’s where I was home. That was my home. It always would be.
“It’s time.” Mom’s soft whisper interrupted my thoughts. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”
I smiled and answered straight from the heart. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for thirteen years. Yeah, I’m ready,” I said.
She smiled. “I love you, Sierra.”
“Love you, too, Mom,” I replied, keeping it simple, already overwhelmed with all the emotion bubbling up inside me.
Dad approached, and Mom gave my hand a squeeze then laughed when Dad kissed her cheek. She ventured down the walkway to the gazebo, where my groom was waiting. I wanted to follow quickly, but then Dad cleared his throat and I turned to look at him. The shimmering tears in his eyes startled me, causing my own to form.
“My baby girl,” he whispered, placing a thumb and forefinger underneath my chin. “This day came a hell of a lot sooner than I expected.” He chuckled. “This day came a hell of a lot later than I expected, knowing that boy. He would’ve proposed when he was twelve years old if he could have.”
It was my turn to laugh. “I think we did it right,” I told him, unashamed of how unabashedly proud I was of the path Jeremy and I had taken.
Sure, we could’ve gotten married and started our forever at eighteen, but instead, we had taken our parents’ guidance and assistance, and now, he was a twenty-one-year-old college graduate with a steady job, and I was nearly done with my nursing degree. Neither of us had any student debt, and we’d be comfortable as we began our lives as a couple. Like I said, relatively easy. Completely comfortable. Pretty much perfect.
“You did,” Dad said, interrupting my thoughts. “And I couldn’t be prouder. That kid, as much as I hated to admit it, was always going to be the one who’d put a ring on your finger. You couldn’t have picked a better man to love you, Sierra. As much as it pains me that I’m giving you away today, I know it’s to a good man, which lessens the pain a little.”
Tears pricked my eyes. “You can’t make me cry, Dad,” I laughed. “It’ll ruin my makeup.”
He leaned in close and placed a kiss on my forehead. “The guy at the altar? He wouldn’t care.”
“Just another reason to love him.”
He smiled and took a deep breath. Then he slowly exhaled and held his arm up, and I set my hand in the crook of it.