Chapter 20 - Ace
Ain’t She - Adam Doleac
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“And basically, that's everything that happened. The rest of the week she just giggled a lot saying how exciting it was that she was going to be as happy as us. Living in married bliss.”
The words married bliss echo in my mind and as much as I want to demand more information from her, hell, I'm tempted to run a full intelligence briefing to understand everything that happened. I still need to tread lightly to ensure I get as many of the important details as I can.
“Okay, so we've been married for just over a year then?”
I say, scratching my chin thinking as I pace the kitchen. She hasn't moved from her spot on the bench top, both of our coffees left abandoned once she started telling me how we ended up in holy matrimony. She's still wearing the old t-shirt of mine and her hair is messy from where we slept on the couch. Her bare thighs press against the countertop, her skin like silk and I keep having to remind myself not to look at them.
“Nova, you're telling me for the past year we could have created the perfect back story to this. Think of all the posts we could have made for the gram,”
I sigh. “Matching pyjamas. Hot chocolates by the fire. We definitely need a photo of you giggling at a joke I made,”
I say, looking at her, one eyebrow raised.
“You don’t even have social media and now you want pics for the gram? I've created a monster.”
She takes a dramatic deep breath, rolling her eyes at my suggestion but I can see the hint of a smirk on her lips. I want to kiss it right off her.
“Come on darlin', you’re pretty cute when you giggle,”
I say, toeing the line of us being more, even if we're meant to be married.
“Ace, this is serious. My family thinks we’re married! If we go to her wedding, who knows what questions we'll be asked. No doubt Mother will be looking for information, and she'll have her little minions out fishing for dirt ... and I don’t giggle, I laugh, like a lady,”
she sighs, as the weight of her family and everything they've done bears down on her.
This wedding isn't just about saving face but it's about proving them wrong too. Regardless of if they believe what happened to her all those years ago, they hate the fact that she still succeeded. That she grew stronger when she was no longer failing to meet their expectations. The love and affection Martha and Seth gave her made her the strong capable woman she is now, and they loathe that while they stew in the hate of the past, she is thriving in the present.
“Okay, no more pussy footing around. This is important. I'm going to need you to be real exact when you answer this next question. Right down to the letter. This could be a deal breaker. Everything could depend on how you answer it. I hav—”
“Oh my gods, what is it?”
She says cutting me off.
I might have come in a little hard with my questioning just then, but oh darlin', this is just the start. I don’t think she understands the gravity of the situation. Nervous, excited energy runs through me as I stand in front of where she sits. Her legs open, welcoming me back into a warm embrace we so seldom share as I lean against the bench.
“I want you to know that there is no wrong answer, that no matter what, we can work through it.”
“Ace, I'm starting to worry now. What do you need to know?”
Taking a deep breath, I ask the question that I've thought about since I understood the concept of what was being asked.
“How did I propose?”
Not quite hearing me, the words tumble out of her, “Look I'm sorry if I overstepped. It was a natural response seeing we were literally in a wedding dress shop. Wait? Did you say, how did you propose?”
Her eyebrows scrunch up in the cutest frown ever to exist, it's like watching a confused kitten ... minus the fur.
“Um, I don’t know, I don’t think I said anything about that.”
She pulls her lip into her mouth, sucking on it slightly as she thinks about what I've asked. Lord have mercy.
“Think, love. Was it on a tropical beach? A hot air balloon? Did I have a light-up sign saying Marry Me hanging on the side of a horse in a field? Was I wearing rhinestone-encrusted cowboy boots? Chewing on straw? I've always thought I could pull off a cowboy look but where do I even buy an outfit like that? This is important, Nova. I need to know word for word how I did it.”
My hands absently rub up and down her thighs, thinking of all the ways I could have done it.
“Ace?”
she laughs shaking her head, bringing her hands to my face, relief flooding her. “This is what you've been worried about?”
“This is important, Nova.”
I practically whine, pushing away from her so I can truly express the importance of this. “Every little boy dreams of the day he gets to ask his special person to be his! To live with him through the good and bad. The worse and the worserer.”
“I don't think that's a word,”
she says, interrupting my speech, chuckling.
Ignoring her, I continue, “That he knows no matter what, he will face the world with the most important person in his life standing by his side.”
“Ace, come here,”
she grins, trying to hold back her laughter as I resume my position snuggled between her thighs. Her hands move down my neck, resting on my chest, over my heart, and I want to tell her of all the ways I've thought about us becoming more. Of how I would ask her if we ever got to that point in our relationship. That I would choose a way worthy of her and everything she brings to my life that makes it better.
“I'm sorry, but I'm almost certain we didn't even discuss it. I think I just said we eloped and left it at that.”
Gasping in mock horror, I fling my hand to my brow. “Must I do all the work here, darlin'. Where did we get married? What kind of suit was I wearing? What colour? I know black is classic but I've always thought I was more of a navy blue kind of man. You know, the little pond behind the barn is beautiful in the summer, if you don’t look back at the barn that is. Oh gods, I'm sweating. I'm sweating and rambling. I don’t think I've been this nervous since the day I joined the service. But you said yes. You said yes to me. You're my wife, and I'm your husband.”
I have to take a moment to collect myself, this is like every dream of mine coming together all in the space of a few hours.
You need me to kill a guy. No worries. Am I making it look like an accident or is it a kill shot? But this, planning out my fictional perfect wedding to the woman of my dreams, that's fucking scary.
“I just want this to be perfect. You’re my family, love.”
I can't help the huge smile on my face now. I've had my second to panic and process. On my list of things to do today, I can say with utmost honesty, that I was not expecting this. The woman of my dreams told her sister we’re married, and even though it's not real on paper, it's real in every way that matters.
“Okay then, baby, we’re correcting some wrongs right now.”
Lifting her from the bench, I place her gently in the middle of the kitchen, the sun shining brightly in the warm summer air. It glows, sparkling behind her, making her look like an angel as her hair catches in the light.
Kneeling before her, she gasps as she realises what I'm about to do, stepping close to me and mumbling that I don’t need to. But that's what she doesn't realise. I do need to. Every fibre of my being needs to do this properly. I may not have had time to make a movie trailer of our special moments or a proposal scavenger hunt. But this, me asking for her hand. We don’t need to make up a story about this.
On bended knee, I’m almost eye level with the woman who captured my heart in every sense of the word. I take her hand, gently holding it as she covers her mouth with the other, her eyes glistening with unshed emotion.
“Nova Davis, from the first day we met I knew you were special, that I had to have you in my life. Then those feelings grew and changed and now I stand before you, well, I'm kneeling, but you know what I mean.”
Oh my gods, can I muck this up any further? “What I'm trying to say is, you’re my person, love. For better or better, you’re it for me. You’re my lobster, baby, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. If you would do me the honour of giving me your hand in marriage.”
“Ace,”
she cries, her voice hitched as tears overflow, a big smile spread across her face. “You have to stop watching re-runs of Friends.”
She throws herself at me and we come together like two magnets that will never part.
“It would make me real happy if you said yes now, baby.”
My balance falters and I fall back on my haunches, keeping her safe as I end up sitting unceremoniously on my ass in the middle of the kitchen floor.
“That was beautiful,”
she whispers, nuzzling into the crook of my neck.
You're beautiful
“You still have to say yes, darlin',”
I say, holding her tightly against me, gently rubbing her back as she nuzzles into the crook of my neck.
This is home.
She is my home.
“Yes, Ace. It's always, yes.”