Her Best Friend's Dad

A sparkling flash catches my eye, and I look down at my ring. The diamond’s facets are almost twinkling with each movement I make thanks to the strings of lights. Twisting my hand to catch the light better, I admire the ring. “I still can’t believe you bought this ring!” The fact that a ring bought when I wasn’t even quite a teenager is a near perfect fit… I try to put my feelings into words.

Beck captures my lips in a soft kiss. “It was fate.” I love the feel of his mouth on mine, and it would be easy to forget our surroundings and lose myself in the sensations he causes. Tingles spread out from my lips, and I look forward to having time to explore his body without worry of being caught by coworkers or fear of losing Tasha.

“Do you want this, Lia? Truly? Now that we don’t have an audience clinging to every word… I need to know. Do you really want to marry me?” His fear of being rejected is plainly written across his face and in the taut lines of his muscles beneath his button-down.

Nodding, I carefully adjust how Beck is holding me so that we are facing one another. He’s so handsome that it makes my heart race. “I don’t want to give you a big head, but I’ve wanted to marry you since I was at least ten. It’s always been you.” His mouth parts in a huge smile, and bubbles of joy cascade through my chest as he beams. “I love you, Beck.”

“And I love you.” He lifts me in the air, spinning us around. It’s dizzying from more than the position. “Do you have any thoughts on when we should get married?”

I don’t have the heart to tell him that Tasha had considered running off to Las Vegas. Thinking of all the effort that goes into planning a wedding, I think eloping isn’t that bad of an idea. “Maybe before the baby is born but not right away?” Making my way down the aisle with a huge belly was not how I envisioned looking on my wedding day, but I want to have some time with Beck to make sure we’re doing the right thing. I’ve been set on him since pretty much forever; he’s been my one and only. I want him to make sure that he wants me for more than lust and the fact that I’m pregnant.

“Is tomorrow too soon?” he questions. “Maybe next Saturday instead?” He’s teasing as I protest. Beck brushes his lips across the diamond ring, grinning at me like he’s won the lottery. Yeah. I can so get used to waking up to that face on the pillow beside me, even if I sort of remember him snoring when I was there for sleepovers during high school.

Beck offers me the use of a fleet car to go home. “You should go have your talk with Tasha, and I’ll figure out how we can get through the rest of the planned events for this party in what little time we have left. Should I pick up an order of taco pizza from Mangia’s and a two liter of grape soda on my way home?” It was always Tasha’s favorite food for a late night emotional binge.

“Yeah. That would probably be good. I think she’ll need it.” My stomach growls and my mouth waters as I think of everything else at the restaurant. “Maybe their chocolate cherry brownie pizza for dessert?” I bat my lashes as I ask.

“We have an entire table of desserts here. We can box up anything you want.” Beck looks down at my upturned face as I frown. “What?”

I drag his hands to my belly. “Baby wants chocolate cherry brownie pizza from Mangia’s.”

He’s smiling indulgently as he kisses me. “Then I guess I better get a taco pizza, a dessert one, and the grape soda. Text me when you are ready for me to come home.”

The tree canopy is so dense I can’t make out the sky, and I regret not bringing a real flashlight to make my way through the darkness. Years of sneaking through the overgrown paths grant speed to my steps, and I run through underbrush, ducking past thorny vines and branches. One snags my hair, catching, and I tug free the strands with only a wince. The blackberries growing thickly here have done worse to me in the past.

Beck’s six acres blends into a nature preserve on the back of the property, and it’s in that no-man’s land of wilderness that Tasha and I discovered a treehouse when we were kids. We hid in the treehouse for most of a night when she accidentally broke a window trying to recreate a favorite movie scene. It was where I ran and took shelter from the world when my mom died. The treehouse witnessed all our important moments. It was where Tasha and I talked about what it was like having her parents divorced. We were even there at fourteen when she told me about letting a boy touch her barely-there boobs and how he’d gotten hard and ran away from her in embarrassment. We laughed about boys there, cried over boys there, and it was our special place long after we should have given up treehouses at the edge of spooky woods.