Hallowed Ground
Page 83“We can ride the chairlift?” Her eyes lit up, and I wanted to fist-pump, to shout to the world that I was this woman’s man.
“We can, dress and all.”
She laughed, her smile wide and bright, clear of the shadows that had dragged us both down lately.
“Mr. Walker?” a woman asked, walking over to us with a clipboard. “I’m Mrs. Patricks, the wedding coordinator. What do you two think? Is it what you’re looking for?”
“Well, Miss Howard, what do you say?” I lifted her hand and kissed her palm.
She spun, taking everything in one last time while she deliberated. Then she turned back to me, radiating happiness from every line in her body. “I think it’s absolutely perfect.”
“Yes!” I shouted, scooping her into my arms and lifting her above my head. She braced her hands on my shoulders, and her laugh healed another broken line in me, stitched it together with love and the promise of our future.
I slowly lowered her until I could kiss her, and then I didn’t give a hot damn if the wedding coordinator was there or not. She tasted like summer and felt like home.
We broke apart, and I turned to the open Colorado sky and shouted at the top of my lungs. “I’m marrying December Howard!”
She laughed, and damned if it didn’t put a little more life into my soul. “Louder, babe. I don’t think they heard you in Kansas.”
I took a deeper breath and yelled even louder, pretty certain the whole world got the message that time.
EMBER
The next month passed in what was my idea of working perfection. We talked, laid everything bare, and accepted each other’s fears, doubts, ugly little truths. The nightmares were down to a couple of times a week, and he managed to sit through an entire movie at the theater without leaving because of the crowds.
But no matter how much progress we made, I still saw the moments where he wasn’t with me. That vacant look came over his face, his eyes focused in the distance, and I knew he was…there.
The scars faded to a light pink, his air cast came off after one week longer than he’d originally been told, and he’d even admitted that he’d screwed up by taking it off for the race. He was getting stronger in physical therapy and, two and a half months after the crash, had almost full mobility.
I took my GRE’s and was waiting on my scores. Waiting to decide if I was really going to Ephesus in a few weeks. I still leaned toward no. After all, we were finally in a great place after surviving a shit storm, and these last couple of months had been the longest we’d ever lived together. I wasn’t exactly in a rush to run off to Turkey, not when it could jeopardize what we’d worked so hard for. But we talked, we loved, we touched. We did easy, simple things like cooking dinner.
We lived.
We planned our wedding, which may end up being the single biggest reason we’d never divorce. Hell if I was ever going to go through this crap again. “Ugh. Who seriously needs that much time to book out?” I groaned, nearly throwing my iPad onto the couch as Josh did shirtless pushups on the living room floor. Good God, that man was a marvel of creation.
“Who now?”
“Photographer. We need to find a different one. If we want the one that’s recommended on the wedding site, he needs ten months.”
“Well. We’re. At. Ten. Months.” He spoke between reps, just breathless enough to make me want to slide under his body, sweat and all.
He paused. “Damn.”
“For a deposit.”
He hit the floor. “Okay, well, I don’t plan on getting married more than once, so give the man what he wants and book him.”
“Between this and the reception…”
“Yeah, well, I married a girl with good taste. It will be fine.”
“Mom offered.”
“No,” he answered, coming to his feet. He stretched his arms above his head, the lines of his abs rippling, and I damn near fell off the couch. “Your mom is still paying for April’s school and supporting Gus. The answer is no.”
“Maybe I should think twice about grad school,” I muttered. “The money Dad left me for college is dwindling.”
“You’ll get a scholarship. I’m not stressed.” He headed for our kitchen, grabbing water from the fridge. “And if you don’t, we’ll pay for it.”
He came over, kissed my forehead, and walked toward the stairs. Even the man’s back was sexy. “Want some company in the shower?”
There was a knock at the door. Crap. I hopped up and checked the window. “Paisley’s here.” With awful timing.
“Well, have fun, and don’t forget we have that barbecue tonight.” He disappeared up the stairs.
“Hey,” I said, opening the door.
“Morning,” she answered, a small gift bag in her hand. Her eyes were slightly puffy, and her smile forced.
“Why don’t you come in?”
She nodded. “Just for a second.”
I shut the door behind her and turned to see her pacing my living room. “Is everything okay? Jagger? The baby?”
She paused, startled. “Oh, yes, they’re okay.” Paisley ran her hand over her belly like she could actually caress their son. “Everyone is fine. I just got a box from Will’s mom. I’d taken all his things down to Alabama for her to sort through, but I must have missed this.” She handed over the bag. “It’s for Josh.”