54. Grace
fifty-four
One month later
*
“Everything okay, Claudia?’ I lean over the reservation system to find out what’s making her frown so profoundly. Even her lips are tilted down, like she just drank something sour.
“Why is she booked with Cheyenne?” she asks, pointing at a name on our nail artist’s column of reservations. Amy Keller.
“Hey, even Cruella deserves awesome nails.” We are the only game in town, after all.
Cheyenne, having heard her name, pops her head between the two of us to glance at the computer. “Oh yeah, I ran into her at Lazy’s the other night, and she wouldn’t stop raving about my nails. I told her to book online.” She shrugs. “That’s okay, right? We don’t hate her anymore. Right, boss?”
“We don’t hate anyone,” I confirm. “Especially not someone who wants to give us their business.”
“I suppose,” Claudia says. “I heard she’s buying a house up in the hills.”
“Really? Good for her,” I say. As far as I’m concerned, I have nothing against Amy, and I’m choosing to forget her not-so-glorious, mean girl episode. Carrying a grudge in a small town is unhealthy.
“From Richardson too,” Claudia continues. “You know, I never could figure out why he wanted to sell this house. It’s an investment property for him. D’you think he needs money?”
I shrug. Not my problem, but certainly a valid question.
“Usual spot?” Randy interrupts us, carrying a large bouquet of flowers.
“Awww,” everyone coos.
Ethan has been ordering flowers for the spa and our home ever since he decided to stay in Emerald Creek for good. “Just because I’m here doesn’t mean you don’t deserve all the attentions,” he said.
I blush, thinking at the little notes in colorful envelopes he hides in my handbag for me to find when I’m at work. They’re way more explicit than the ones he first made for me. They’re actually so explicit that I’ve started putting those new ones back in the jar, and I have him take one randomly every night and demonstrate exactly what he meant.
Most times, it ends in real hot sex. Sometimes, in a fit of laughter.
Of the two outcomes, I can’t tell which I prefer.
“How is the high school project coming along?” Randy asks.
“I think they’re about to wrap up,” I answer. I heard more than I should have, that night on the deck, when Ethan was summarizing the situation to his C.O. I know not to share anything. No one suspects it was ever anything more than a real bad virus, and we should keep it this way. “He’s about to move his operation into the Mill, actually.” Ethan snatched the space as soon as he was approved by the higher-ups to become a private consultant.
“I’m so happy for you,” Randy says, clutching his hands. Turning to our display of mugs, he adds, “I’m getting one too. Still thinking on what it should say.”
Alex comes in for her massage with Shanice, who I’ve finally convinced to expand beyond facials. Alex was the first person I practiced massages with, back when she had just moved into Emerald Creek, and she’s volunteered to be Shanice’s test client now. “Happy to brainstorm with you, Randy. We should make it catchy for socials.”
At lunch, sitting out on the deck for a quick break, I open the note Ethan slipped into my handbag. It reads, Is It Friday Yet?
I smile. Not a kinky note today, but certainly a promise. Fridays are for just the two of us now, to unwind at home. Saturdays are for our friends, and Sundays our families—although there’s a lot of overlap between the two.
“Are you coming to Game Nights tonight?” Kiara asks after her pedicure. She never gets fancy manicures, because of her being a pastry chef, but she goes all out on her feet.
Tonight is Thursday. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
That evening, in the back of Cassandra’s lingerie, Ms. Angela is all wound up. She wants to create a new Mystery Board Game. She calls it mystery, but it’s really gossip. “We have a lot of new material,” she explains.
“Such as?” her friend Cheryl asks.
“Don’t you wonder why Georgie is selling property? It doesn’t fit his profile.”
“I wanna know why the bookshop is called Shy Rabit,” Chloe interjects.
Ms. Angela takes out a notebook and writes in it. “That’s another one.”
Cassandra sips from Haley’s latest concoction—something deep blue. “What I’d like to know, is why we have so many beautiful young women who are still single. Emma, Autumn, Kiara…”
“You need to work your magic!” Ms. Angela says. “That’s not a mystery.”
“Hmm.” Cassandra looks around the room, eyes narrowed on my single friends, but tonight, she doesn’t call anyone into her boutique.
When I get home that night, my heartbeat picks up as it always does when I come home now. Ethan installed twinkling lights around the frame of the house, that turn on as soon as it’s dusk, making the house super welcoming. Lucas and Thalia just finished our three-car garage, and we decided to have an upper level framed in above it. When we can afford it, we’ll easily be able to add two bedrooms or an office and a bedroom. Ample space to grow our family.
Right now, I’m content pressing on my garage door opener and sliding into my parking spot between the chick magnet (that nickname stuck) and Ethan’s new SUV, and going home to my man and my cat.
“What was that note about Friday?” I ask Ethan as he greets me with a kiss.
“Officially done with the high school project tomorrow, and starting on Monday, I’ll be at the Mill.”
“That’s awesome.” I knew this was the timeline he had in mind, but there was always the possibility of last-minute delays. “Do you want to go celebrate? Lazy’s? Growler?”
“Not tomorrow. Tomorrow is for us. We can go celebrate Saturday.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeats, booping me and smiling adorably at me.
The next day, I make sure to get home early. The deck is all sparkling with twinkly lights, the table adorned with candles. It’s a little cool out but there are blankets on the couch.
Ethan pulls me to him and lays a big kiss on my mouth. “Take a shower, get comfy, and join me outside.”
After a quick shower (why didn’t Ethan join me? I need to set that straight), I grab one of the hoodies Ethan got me “for the cold weather” with his name on it. The walk-in closet is filling with his clothes now, thick sweaters and thermals and jeans and snowboarding gear. His smell is everywhere and ohmygod… it’s the best. Winter with Ethan is going to be so cozy.
As I walk out to the deck, I’m surprised to see a glow coming from a brand-new gas firepit I hadn’t noticed earlier. “What’s that?” I lean over it to warm my hands, then plop on the couch, pulling a blanket over me.
“Not as spectacular as a real firepit, but hey,” Ethan says, setting a small tray with hot toddies on the ottoman.
“I love it. It’s…” It’s ours. Cozy and all. It’s all we need. I reach out for the drink, but Ethan takes my hand. “Hold on, there’s something I need to tell you.”
I turn to him. Is he going to propose? Eyes bright, I smile at him.
“Damian, where are you, buddy?” he calls out.
I guess not. That’s okay. Next time.
Ethan pulls out the laser beam that still drives Damian crazy, and whistles softly. A little jingle sounds behind me. “Who’s a gooboy,” Ethan says under his breath, playing with the laser beam.
Turning around to see what’s up with Damian, I see he’s wearing a collar with a bunch of little bells all around it. I laugh. “That’s going to drive him crazy! Come here. Come to Mommy.”
Ethan directs the laser beam to my lap. “Yeah, come to Mommy.”
Damian jumps on me in a mess of jingles. The poor thing is shaking his head to try and get rid of this new gadget. “Come here you poor thing. What did Daddy do now? We’ll keep this for Christmas only.” I go to take the collar off him, then notice a small pouch attached to it. “What is this?”
“I dunno,” Ethan says, as he glides off the couch and drops to his knee.
Not both knees.
One.
My palms get moist.
This is it.
My Ethan is proposing. Forgetting all about Damian, I straighten as he takes my hands and starts talking. “Do you know how long I’ve loved you, Grace?”
I shake my head softly, tears pooling in my eyes.
“So long I don’t remember ever not loving you. Even as children, you captured my heart in the purest way. You made me better. You made me stronger. You made me braver. I was who I was because of you. Because I knew you were watching me, and I didn’t want to disappoint you. Because I loved you. And it’s just as true today.” He drops his head down for a beat, then looks back up. “Somewhere along the way I messed up. I failed you—”
I shake my head. “It wasn’t y—”
He gives my hands a soft tug and smiles softly. “Lemme finish, beautiful.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Somewhere along the way, I messed up. I failed you, and we both suffered for ten long years. Three thousand six hundred and some days, wasted living without you. Three thousand six hundred and some nights, sleeping without you by my side. Ten unnecessary years apart from each other. Now that I found you again, each day and each night is a blessing.”
His jaw trembles and his eyes mist. I know what’s coming. I know it and I’m prepared and I want it, and yet it’s the most emotional moment of my life. Tears flow freely down my cheeks, and I fall on my knees in front of Ethan.
“Grace, you’ve always been mine. In secret. But you’ve always intimidated me too. And so it’s no surprise that I’m freaking scared right now, right here, asking you to be my wife. Will you?” Uncertainty paints his features. My strong, brave Ethan is unsure.
“I’ve always been yours, you know it. You make my life complete. Of course I want to be your wife,” I whisper, too emotional to speak in a normal voice.
He takes my face in his hands and kisses me softly. Then his eyes dart to the couch. “Damian, buddy, where are you?”
I pull him back to me. “Kiss me more.” And he does, but his heart isn’t in it. “What’s wrong?”
“Damian.”
I bunch his shirt in my fist and pull him to me. “Leave him be and kiss your future wife.” He kisses me, but his eyes are darting everywhere. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“The ring.”
The ring? Oh, right. He got me a ring. Ethan King got me a ring! The teenager in me is going crazy. Present me is trying to rail her in. So… where is the ring? Suddenly, understanding hits me. “Damian? The pouch around his neck?”
Ethan shuts his eyes briefly. “I knew I shouldn’t trust him with that. But I can’t believe he’s messing up the proposal!”
I start laughing. “I know! After everything he’s done for us!”
Ethan cups my face again. “Do you have any idea of how perfect you are? Sorry—of how you fit my dirtiest fantasy? You naked in my sweatshirt…” he briefly sweeps a hand up my hips to confirm the statement “laughing because me and Damian messed up the proposal?”
“That’s your dirtiest fantasy?”
“You naked under something with my name on it will always be my go-to dirty fantasy. You happy as can be because the ring that should be on your finger is who knows where—guarantee that means a happy-as-hell marriage, Grace.”
“Is that a thing? Like rain on your wedding day?”
“It is now.”
“I’m sure it was a beautiful ring.”
“It’s more than beautiful.” He lifts me back on the couch, then hands me my hot toddy. “You keep warm while I hunt down the feral thief.” Then he stomps into the house, threatening Damian with all sorts of terrible things if he doesn’t appear “right this fucking second.”
As his voice dims into the house, I take a small sip, trying to rein in all the emotions battling inside me. I knew this day would come… and yet, it’s so big. And so strong. I can’t even describe it. It’s like—
I’m pulled from my inner contemplation by the sound of tiny little bells chiming under the couch. “Sneaky little guy!” I coo Damian out. He jumps on the couch, sits on his rear end, and slits his eyes at me. Then with one paw, he claws the pouch open, and a small ring lands on my lap. I pick it up and blink, emotion choking me as I take in the tiny blue flowers linked together by a gold twig. I barely register as Damian jingles back into the house, and Ethan surges back on the deck.
“Thank god,” Ethan grunts. “D’you like it?” He’s standing above me, hands on his hips. “I had it made at Gems. They said they had your size… Hey, what’s wrong?” He runs his knuckles softly on my cheek. “Babe? You okay?”
I hand him the ring, my fingers shaking. He drops back to his knees—both knees this time—and slides the band on my finger.
“You like it?” he repeats, running his thumb on the intricately carved gold band and small blue stones.
“You-you-you got me… forget-me-nots?” I can’t believe Ethan had a custom-made replica of a ring he made for me a quarter of a century ago.
He nods. “Well, sapphires, but the design is… yeah, it came really—”
I shut him up with a kiss, and this time he takes it slow and deep and thoughtful, until I lean into him, and we topple onto the floor and end up making love on the deck, under the cool moonlight.