34. Evie Wilder
Chapter thirty-four
Evie Wilder
I shiver as a gust of October air cuts through my jacket. A cold front came in recently, so our temperate fall has turned chilly. Even the cold weather can’t deter my excitement for today though. Maverick and I are going on a date, alone . Kayla offered to babysit so we could have some alone time, and Maverick planned an adorable date for us.
We’re taking his motorcycle to a scenic lookout for a picnic. I’m bringing my camera to take tons of photos, and Maverick said he’d let me take as many of him as I’d like. I’ve been trying to convince him to update his social media and website for the bakery, but he thinks his brand is about his work, not his face. Today though, he’s giving in and letting me, which I’m so excited about.
After placing our food and a blanket in his saddlebags, he grabs my helmet off a rack nearby. Yes, my helmet. He bought one just for me that even comes with a headset so if we need to talk to each other we can. He slides the helmet on over my head, then clips it below my chin. His warm fingers on my cold skin make me shiver again.
“Do you have enough layers on? It’s going to be even colder once we’re on the road,” he says, flipping up the visor so he can look into my eyes.
“I’m good. I should have zipped up my jacket before you put this helmet on me though.”
He smiles in the way that makes me all warm and gooey inside, before pulling the zipper of my puffer up. Then he takes my backpack strap and clips it across my chest so my camera bag doesn’t fly off.
“Thank you,” I say with a smile of my own hidden by the helmet.
“You’re welcome. Now, let’s get going. I don’t want to miss the sunset.”
He flips the visor shut again, then pulls on his own helmet and swings his leg over the bike. I follow suit, snuggling up close to him and wrapping my arms around his waist. This is my favorite part about riding with him. I’ll take any excuse to be this close to him, not that I need one though. If we hold eye contact for a second too long he’s pulling me in for a kiss.
“You ready, Wilder?” His voice comes through my headset.
“More than ready, Carter,” I reply.
He pulls out, going slow on the bumpier parts of his driveway, then speeding up as soon as we’re on the road. My smile is so wide it hurts as we wind through back roads. Various autumnal shades paint the trees in a fiery watercolor. The late afternoon sun casts dappled light through the canopy of trees above us. The windchill would be biting, but pressed against Maverick’ s back it’s not so bad. I’ve tucked my hands into his fleece-lined jacket pockets too, which helps.
We lean into every turn, and on each straightaway it feels like we’re flying with how fast he goes. I squeal when he takes a turn a little faster than I’m used to, and I hear his low chuckle in response.
Soon enough–almost too soon–we’re arriving at the lookout spot. Maverick said he found this little-known stop on a solo ride. There are hardly any cars out here, and no people either.
“Wow,” I breathe out as Maverick gets off the bike. He holds it steady while I swing my leg over, then lets it rest on the kickstand. “It’s gorgeous,” I say while he unclips my helmet and slides it off for me. Even though I can do it, I let him. I know he likes taking care of me and it feels good to have him do it in this small way. The bigger ways–like him buying me a car a few days ago–are more difficult to swallow. But I managed, especially once I drove said car. Heated seats are worth letting go of my pride, let me tell you.
“I thought you’d like it,” he says as he places our helmets on the bike.
While he gets our picnic supplies out, I get my camera. It doesn’t take long for me to get lost within the photos. Up here in the glow of the setting sun, everything is worthy of photographing. I snap a few of Mav’s motorcycle, then of him setting up our picnic, plus plenty of the surrounding nature.
“Am I going to get to see your beautiful face any time tonight, or just the camera lens?” Maverick jokes. I take a picture of his smirking face, then lower my camera.
“It’s just so beautiful up here,” I say and his smirk softens into a smile.
“I’m glad you think so. Do you want to eat now or keep taking photos for a while?”
I look around. It’s golden hour. Everything is drenched in the hazy glow of the setting sun.
“Do you mind if I take a few more first?”
“Of course not. I want you to make the most of it. Do you want me to set up your tripod so we can get a few photos together?” he asks.
I grin. “I would love that. Have I ever told you that you’re the best?”
“Hmmm…” He pulls me in, the only thing keeping us apart is my camera. “I’m not sure, but I wouldn’t be opposed to hearing it more.”
“I’ll be sure to make the sentiment known,” I say as he leans down. His lips brush mine in a tender kiss.
“I love you,” he says against my lips.
“I love you,” I reply before sharing a smiling kiss.
It feels so good to hear him say that and to say it back. I know down to my bones he means it, because he shows me every day. There’s no second-guessing or wondering. He’s earned my trust right alongside my affection.
I continue snapping photos of everything in sight while Maverick works on setting up the collapsible tripod I brought. On top of not having many photos of himself, we don’t have many photos of us together. The ones Maddie took are beautiful, but they were from before we were actually together. So I’m hoping to get at least one good one against this sunset backdrop.
“Okay, it’s set up,” Maverick says and I turn around from where I was photographing a butterfly that had landed on a nearby tree branch.
“Perfect! Can you go stand about ten feet away so I can get my settings right?” I ask him and he nods.
I set my camera on the tripod, screwing it into place so it doesn’t fall off. Then I start to adjust the settings so that the lighting and focus is perfect. Maverick stands with his hands in his jacket pockets, facing toward the cliff drop off. I snap a few of him like that, all stoic and mysterious, before taking my bluetooth remote out and making sure it works.
“Can I hold the remote and take some?” he asks.
“Are you trying to steal my job?” I tease, but hand it over. “What has you wanting to take them?”
I wrap my arms around his neck. He puts one hand on my waist, but leaves the other in his pocket to hide the remote as he snaps a photo. I hear the click of the camera, letting me know he’s already started.
“I just thought it would be fun to compare the difference in my photos versus yours,” he says, but there’s something in his voice–even in his gaze–that seems off. I can’t place what it is though.
“Well there won’t be much to compare besides the timing. We’d have to take turns on the camera to have a true comparison.”
“Maybe we can do that after.” He clears his throat and shifts on his feet.
It’s then that I realize: he’s nervous. That’s why he’s acting so strange.
“Why are you nervous?” I ask him without preamble. “If something's wrong, just tell me.”
He lets out a soft chuckle. “Nothing is wrong, I’m just failing at surprising you right now.”
“Surprising me? What–”
He steps back out of my arms and lowers to one knee. I gasp, my hands flying to my mouth.
“Evie Grace Wilder,” he begins. My heart is galloping in my chest. “I have known you for the majority of my life. We’ve grown up alongside each other, and most of my memories have you in them in some way. But we’ve also had time apart, during which we went through pain and difficulties. I’m grateful for that time though, because I can say I’ve known life both with and without you, and I never want to feel what it’s like without you ever again.”
He pulls out a ring, the simple princess-cut diamond on a silver band glinting in the rays of the setting sun. Tears begin to fall down my face.
“I’m so in love with you, Wilder. I want it to be you and me for the rest of our days. I want to raise Beckham, to give him brothers and sisters and a life filled with happiness. I want to cook every meal with you sitting on the counter and to go to sleep each night with you cuddled up against my chest. I want it all. The good and the bad and everything in between. I want you. Will you marry me?”
I’m nodding before he even finishes the question. “Yes, yes, I’ll marry you.”
He puts the ring on my left hand, and before he can stand I lower myself to the ground instead and throw my arms around him in a hug. We melt into each other with a long, heartfelt kiss. Each brush of our lips is a declaration, a promise that we’ll love each other from now until our last breath .
Maverick lays me down on the nearby picnic blanket, hovering over me with a soft grin. It dawns on me why he took the remote.
“You got photos of the whole thing,” I whisper and he nods.
“I wanted this moment to be private, but I knew you’d want the photos too.”
“Thank you,” I say as more tears start to blur my vision.
He closes the distance between us and kisses me. The peace I feel in his arms is so foreign to everything I’ve ever known. My childhood was spent hiding from the shrapnel of the war that was my parents’ marriage. I left that battleground for one of my own though when I met Ezra. I fell for the idea of him, rather than seeing him for who he really was. I built walls to hide my most vulnerable parts. My fear of getting hurt again felt insurmountable, but Maverick persevered. He was–and is–patient, kind, and loving. He waited while I learned what I know now:
I’m safe. I’m loved, and I’m safe.