I winced as my muscles debated whether or not they were going to work or cease from functioning and let me fall on my ass.
“Wes?” Kiersten’s pretty voice floated through the air. The sound of her voice was always like a balm to my soul, it reminded me of the first time my name had the honor of being formed by those beautiful lips. I could be in the worst mood—and just hearing her voice, my name and her voice mixed together, was enough to fix everything.
Moving slowly because I felt like an old man with a walker, I turned and gave her a bright smile.
“What’s wrong?” She ran towards me and grabbed my hands. Her blue eyes filled with tears.
“Why do you assume something’s wrong, baby?”
Her lower lip quivered. “Your smile’s fake.”
“Aww…” I pulled her into my arms, knowing that it was going to hurt like hell when she squeezed around my midsection. “I’m just in a bit of pain, that’s all.”
Her eyebrows furrowed together in concern. “Your chest?”
“No.” I chuckled stroking her red hair with my fingertips. “My entire body. Those workouts are rough.”
“Oh.” She sighed in relief, almost melting against me. “So you’re fine? Your heart’s fine? Everything’s fine?”
“Sweetheart…” I slowly released her and looked into her deep blue eyes, framed by dark lashes and flawless skin, she still took my breath away. “Are we going to have to have another one of those talks where I tell you not to freak out every time I’m doing something other than smiling?”
Her shoulders sagged. “Probably. It’s just everything with Gabe and Saylor—it just reminds me of last year and… I don’t know. It’s too close to home, you know?”
“Yeah.” I sat back on the chair, pulling her down with me until she sat in my lap. “I know.” My hands instinctively dug into
her red hair, my fingers twisting her silky locks. Each strand had a mind of its own as it wrapped around and slid through between two fingers, only for me to grab another piece and repeat the process. Each touch of her hair shot an obsessive need to have her—straight through me.
With a groan, she laid against my chest. “It’s kind of cold out here. What were you doing anyways?”
I swallowed the panic and told myself that being nervous was ridiculous. Kiersten had seen me at my best and my worst. She could take anything.
“Remember last year? When I told you I wanted to marry you a year after I woke up from surgery?”
She tensed in my arms. “Yeah.”
“So…I don’t want to do that anymore.”
Kiersten immediately started fidgeting with her hands. “Wes—”
“I can’t wait.” I stopped her from pulling completely away from me. “If I have to wait one more week I’m seriously going to lose my mind.” I kissed her exposed neck and sighed against it, my body finally relaxing now that I was in her arms. “I want to get married now.”
“But—”
“I lied. I wanted to be married the day you said yes.”
“But—”
“I’ve spent my entire life being patient, Kiersten. I’ve spent my life waiting. Waiting to live, waiting to die, waiting to hear good news, waiting to hear bad news. And for once, I really, really, want to be selfish and screw the whole waiting process. I want you. I want you right now. I want you in every way a man could want a woman. I want you every second of every day. I want to give you my name. I want to live with you. I want to take care of you. I want to have kids with you. I want to massage your feet after a hard day. I want to hug you when you’re sad. I want to hold your hand when you’re sick. I want to hold you in my arms and never let go—even waking up in the morning with our bodies intertwined, won’t be enough for me. Breathing your air destroys me because I can taste you in everything—even when your lips aren’t anywhere near mine—damn, I can taste them, I taste you. I want you so deeply etched in my soul that I don’t know where I end and you begin. So, Kiersten, I’m going to pull the whole “I was dying and this is my dying wish card”—because every day I’m not with you. Every day that goes by when I don’t get to share every single moment with you…is like waiting to die all over again. So, will you marry me? Not in another eight months—will you marry me….now?”
“How…” Kiersten’s hoarse voice shook. “How in the world do you expect me to answer that?”
My chest ached deep inside like I’d held my breath for too long and my lungs were about to explode. Was she rejecting my proposal?
“I would have married you the second you asked, Wes. Had the doctors said they could only keep you alive for five minutes, I would have spent those five minutes in your arms—loving you. Time is precious—and I want to give you all of mine. So marrying you today? Even if I was in nothing but jeans and a t-shirt. Even if I was running a fever or got hit by a car…I’d do it. I love you. My heart’s been yours since the minute you needed it to beat for you. So Wes…” She cupped my face and peered deep into my eyes.
With one look, she exposed everything I had ever been or would ever be. I stopped breathing.
Then her lips tipped upward in one of her gentle smiles. “My answer’s yes.”