step onto the shoulder.
“You’re insane,” she breathed into his neck. “You’re insane and I love you.”
The ground moved under his feet. “Present tense, right? Love not loved.”
“Loved and love. Both.” She looked him in the eye. “I’ve loved and love you in every single way.”
Thanking the man upstairs with a whispered prayer, Travis eased back just enough to take her face in his hands. “I said those things to my father because he poisons everything he touches. He can poison anything he wants, except you. I couldn’t stand your name in his mouth. I couldn’t let him focus on you for a second, so I said something awful I didn’t mean. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“I know. I understand.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing him to lift her off the ground. “I’m sorry you had to face him alone.”
“I’m strongest when you’re around, but I’m going to get better at using that strength, even when you’re not standing beside me.” He laid the first of many kisses on her lips, almost drowning in the perfection of her taste. “If I ever start to lose strength again, I’ll just think of how it felt to lose the girl who loved me, even when I couldn’t love myself.
“And if you say yes to marrying me . . .” He had to stop for a breath. “If you say yes, Georgie, we’re going to live the next five, six decades out together. We’re going to fight and make up a thousand times. And we’re going to have babies. I want to have babies with you, more than anything, because you make me believe I can. Be a father. Be a good husband to you.” He dropped his face into the base of her neck and was reassured by the chaotic rhythm of her pulse. “Say yes,” he whispered. “Please, baby girl. Be my wife.”
Moisture filled her eyes. “Yes, Travis Ford. There isn’t a single other person on this planet I could imagine those things with. I’ll marry you,” she breathed. “At least long enough for you to finish my fireplace—”
His laugh booming across the expressway, Travis wrapped her in a hug and swept her off the ground. “You said yes. Thank God.” He staggered a little. “I thought I was fucked.”
Around them, horns started to honk. One at a time, until it became a cacophony of noise. Clapping and whistling reached them through rolled-down windows. His relief and joy turned everything to a blur, though, and he promptly forgot about their surroundings, despite the loud ruckus taking place. He drew her hand up to his mouth, kissing her knuckles and palm, before sliding on the ring he’d been keeping in his shirt pocket, as even louder cheers and beeps erupted around them. Travis leaned in to breathe with an open mouth against her neck, his hands riding dangerously low on the small of her back. “You just wait until I get you home, baby girl.” He drew her up onto her toes, grazing her neck with the barest hint of teeth. “I’m going to put you against a wall and—”
“All right. I think we get the idea,” said a dry male voice.
Travis turned his head to find Stephen at the wheel of the minivan, the other man clearly battling a smile. “Fine, I’ll be your best man. You don’t have to beg.”
Travis swallowed and brushed the hair back from Georgie’s face. “Thanks, man.” He looked at Stephen. “I’ll make sure she knows every single day that she’s the air I breathe. That’s a promise.”
Suspiciously teary-eyed, Georgie’s brother gave a brisk nod and rolled up the window.
Leaving Travis and Georgie kissing on the shoulder, long after the traffic cleared.
Acknowledgments
Every year at Christmastime, Port Jefferson, Long Island, turns into a Charles Dickens village. For two days, locals dress up like chimney sweeps and carolers, greeting visitors with their cockney accents. There’s apple cider, ice-skating, and old-fashioned puppet shows. Basically, it’s magical. I took my family one year, and I’ve been charmed by the small waterside town of Port Jefferson ever since. I’m so excited to set a series in this glorious little place, and I hope I did it justice.
Thank you, as always, to my family for lifting me up when I’m down and loving me through deadline weeks. Thank you to my editor, Nicole Fischer—for helping me turn our broken-down ex–baseball phenom from swoony to OH YEAH SWOONY. Thank you to my agent, Laura Bradford, for always looking out for my best