A Long Time Coming (31 page)

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Authors: Heather van Fleet

BOOK: A Long Time Coming
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Narrowing his eyes, he sat
back. “Stop doing what?”

“Looking adorable and…stuff.”
Ugh, she was getting
way
too
far off track here.

Scooting closer, smiling once
again, he reached for her hands, interlocking them with his. “You’re wrong. I’m
not the cute one in this relationship—you are.” And then
he
kissed
her
nose. Okay, so she had to admit that the nose kissing thing coming from his
lips was entirely more swoon–worthy.

“Fine, whatever—let’s just
call it a tie for now. Now, finish up what you were saying please.” She
motioned him along with her hands, her own cheeks heating as she did.

“So, the key…it opens
something.” He grinned, pulling himself up to stand. He reached for her hand,
motioning her upwards with the flickering of his fingertips.

“Um, usually they do…” Did she
want to actually go with him somewhere? No, probably not. But still, she found
her hand in his and then felt the bottoms of her feet touch the carpet. She
wasn’t in control here anymore. David was. And the next thing she knew, he was
pulling her forward towards the front door.

“Don’t, worry, Miss Smart
Ass,” he grinned from over his shoulder, “we’re only going outside.”

The light shining down from
the late afternoon sun was almost blinding as she walked hand in hand with
David down the sidewalk. The pitter patter of her bare feet on the cool cement
was definitely not pleasant. Late November had brought no snow yet, but the
temperatures were another story. She hadn’t thought to bring a jacket, just
followed whatever her body told her to do as David led her outside. Shudders
wracked her body, and her teeth chattered like tiny little drums beating inside
her mouth.

“Christ, let me get you a coat
and some shoes. I’m so sorry, Abs.” David’s arm went around her shoulders,
pulling her into his chest. The rub of the fabric from her sweatshirt caused
her broken parts to ache again, but being in his arms was worth a little bit of
torture.

“I’m good. Let’s just hurry,
’kay?” He nodded, pulling her alongside him down the walk, right up to the
street. And it was there that she saw it. A car—a black Mustang car—the same
black Mustang that David used to drive, pre–accident. Suddenly, she knew
exactly what that car was. David’s freedom. David taking another step in life.
The boy had finally gotten his driver’s license again.

“I know it’s not a huge
romantic gesture, but I just…I don’t know, wanted you to see. If you don’t want
to ride in it right now, I completely understand,” he turned to face her full
on. His gentle giant hands gripped her waistline, slipping under the hem of her
sweatshirt. She shivered at the sensation of his warm fingers pressed against
her skin, loving how the tips stroked the area sitting just above the seam of
her sweatpants. She tipped her head back, fully focusing on his face, needing
to see his eyes, wanting nothing more than to get lost in them. She was so
proud of him. So damn proud of how far he’d come in two years. David was an
angel—her angel—and he needed no wings to prove that. Heaven sent, perfect—he
was the only man she’d ever love.

“I don’t need romantic
gestures.”

Tipping his head to the side,
his dark brown hair falling over his eyes, he grinned at her, melting her
insides as though they were wax, and he was the flame. “How about a little more
wooing then? Can you handle that?”

The door opened and with the
outstretch of his hand, he encouraged her to get into the car. Shaking her head
at the goofy, googly grin on his face, she obliged, slipping into the cold
leather seat. He practically skipped around to the other side, moving at a pace
that shocked her. His therapy had started up again and he was exceeding in all
he did—it was like he was finally letting go. Finally healing.

“Um, yeah…so welcome to my
car.” Blinking she stared over at him, noticing the pink tone to his nose and
skin from the cool air. First thing she did after that was gaze into the
backseat.

“I think there’s room enough
for two back there.”

Inching forward, at a speed
she could hardly see coming, her face was in his hands. And before she could
question his sudden aggression, he closed the distance left between them,
consuming her mouth with lips that she would never tire of. Cool, soft, and
perfect…home. David was her sanctuary.

“Mmm, as much as I’d like to
christen my back seat with you,” his heavy breath traveled to her cheek, to her
ear a second later, “I promised you wooing first. And I’m a man of my word.”
Unable to open her eyes, she reached for the neck of his shirt—non–verbally
saying screw the woo shit—she was ready for the entire performance.

“I don’t need wooing…I need
you. I need you now.” Damn, she was a slut. But David turned on that switch for
her, spiked her libido to overdrive, and made her insane with the simplest
words and movements. His mouth on her ear was the biggest trigger point of all.

His hand slipped between them,
reaching into a compartment. And against her wishes, he separated their bodies.
Seconds later, a cotton shirt was pulled from the area. “What’s this?” She
grinned, staring down at the material, while rubbing the material between her
fingertips.

“A shirt.”

“For…?”

“You, of course.” He snapped
it and shook it out, only so it would open flat on her lap a minute later. “Go
on then…read what it says.”

Frowning, hating the unknown,
she glared down at the lettering. “Holy shit.” Scrambling back in her seat as
far as her body would let her, she shook her head and stared back up at him.
Was he for real here?

“Abigail Ann Zane… I’ve loved
you since I was six. You are my life, and the only woman I will ever love. You
saved me when I needed saving, you beat me up when I needed my ass kicked, and
you loved me when I felt unlovable.” Yeah, he was totally doing it. Her hands
shook as she reached for the sparkly diamond tied to the shirt. But she
couldn’t pick it up. And it’s not like she didn’t want the thing on her finger
or anything, she just didn’t want to look like that super eager bitch that
couldn’t wait. So instead, she traced the words written there with her nails.

Marry me…

“Abs, I’m not expecting this
today, or even next year. I’m nowhere near ready to be the protector or
provider you need and deserve,” trembling fingers reached for the circular
band, but they weren’t hers. His warm breath grew uneven as he brought his body
closer to hers. Reaching for her left hand, he settled it in one of his, his
other hand hovering palm up in front of her face. “I wasn’t able to ask you out
on a jersey, but this was the best I could do on such short notice. I’ve never
in my life felt something so right as I do now.”

“David…”

“Abigail, I actually have
goals now—a plan to start living my life—even if I’m never going to physically
be whole again. And I want nothing more than to start living that life, knowing
that you will be my beginning, middle and end. Could you do what the t–shirt
says Abs… would you be my fiancée? Marry me? Be my life and my wife someday?”

Blankness took over her
mouth—the words were in her head.
Yes…god yes…always, forever.
But what
came out of her mouth wasn’t quite as graceful.

“Jesus…I thought you’d never
ask, dammit!”

And with those words, with the
quickness of his hands, the beating of her heart, David grinned, slipping that
ring on her finger. And together, they sealed the forever kind of promise, with
a forever kind of kiss.

 

Epilogue

 

Three years later…

“I… am so in love with you…
whatever you wanna do… is alright with meeeee. Because yoooooou make me feel,
sooo brand newwww. And IIIIII want to spend my life with youuuuuu. Baby
leeeet’s, let’s stay togetherrrr…”

“Damn, who knew surfer boys
liked to sing?” Abigail threw an elbow back, digging it into his ribs. He
groaned, but smiled anyways, pulling her back, closer to his chest. She was as
feisty as ever, and he loved the hell out of her even more each and every day.

“I think it’s romantic and
sweet that the
groom
wants to sing to his
bride
. I mean Jesus,
why didn’t you do that for our wedding, hmm?”

“Mason’s a pussy.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot. You’re
Mr. Doom and Gloom.”

“Proud of it, especially when
it means I get to keep my man card.” She groaned, and he shut his eyes, resting
his chin on top of her head. God he loved egging her on, loving the way her
rounded belly felt between his palms even more.

And the dress she had on…shit,
all blue and silky, and entirely too low… The thing had his body responding to
attention against her backside. Dammit. How in the hell would he ever make it
back to their hotel without ravishing his wife in the taxi?

Smiling at that one word,
wife,
he whispered in her ear, knowing it drove her crazy when he did. “
I
don’t sing, Abigail. And we got married in Vegas, so that was Elvis’s job
anyway.”

Giggling, she rested her hands
on top of his. “Well, I seem to recall your dad doing a little Elvis
impersonation that night.”

Damn, that felt like forever
ago. His father, carrying his mother across the threshold of the chapel,
singing Blue Suede Shoes moments after the two of them renewed their vows the
very same night that he and Abs had tied the knot.

Yeah, those were memories to
be proud of—drunken father and all.

His mother’s hair had fully
grown back, and her smile was reflecting beautifully off the swinging crystal
light that hung above the dance floor. It was almost as if she felt him staring
at her, because her glance wandered until she found him over his father’s
shoulder. For a woman who was told she wouldn’t live, she sure as hell beat
some odds. Fighting back, giving it her all—his mom told the big guy in the sky
to suck it, and she kept on living. And damn, did she look amazing. Healthy,
happy, glowing, and most importantly she was one year in remission. She winked,
mouthing, ‘love you’ before settling her head against his father.

If there was ever a night when
perfection was at its fullest, it was this one. Everyone he loved was
there—together—where they belonged.

“Yeah, Dad was a little
toasted that night, wasn’t he?”

“I’d never seen him so—”

“Enamored? In love? Yeah, he
was high on life, and the vodka only emphasized that.”

Turning to face him, Abigail
lifted her soft hands. Her delicate fingers sprawled out over the length of his
blue tie, before settling right above his thundering heart. “That was well
worth it, you know, getting married in Vegas just to see the two of them renew
their vows. They’re so lucky to have found each other.”

One shoulder shrug later, he
was nodding in agreement. Yeah, it really had been worth it. “What about us?”
He teased pulling her closer, running his hands across her ribs—the end of his
fingers just barely grazing the sides of her full breasts.

Moaning slightly at his move,
she adjusted her arms higher until they were fully wrapped around his neck. The
only thing that could possibly separate them was her perfectly rounded, five
month pregnant stomach.

“Well…I do believe
we
got very lucky too.” Little did she know that luck had nothing to do with it.
The two of them together…? That was all Fate’s doing. And he’d never been so
happy to have zero control over something in his entire life.

Pressing his forehead to hers,
he sighed, “Yeah, I’d have to agree on that one, Mrs. Anderson.”

With another soft giggle, she
settled her head against his chest, sighing as they swayed to the soft ballad
of his brother–in–law’s voice.

Damn, he couldn’t believe
they’d done it. The surfer boy and his sister had finally taken that forever
kind of step. But what he couldn’t believe even more than that was the fact
that his sister was no longer an Anderson. Harley freaking Daniel—he shook his
head. He’d never get used to that.

He stared over at her, smiling
as she gazed up at her husband on the stage. She looked incredible—her long
brownish–black curls pulled back low at her neck, a simple white dress that
trailed a few feet behind her. Harley was a princess, and she had found her
prince. The love that the two of them shared was almost as powerful as the
feelings he had for Abigail. But almost was the optimal word there.

“Abigail?”

Damn was she
incredible–looking! She was glowing too—gleaming with a happiness that would
never fail to rub off on him. She was everything he never thought he would be
lucky enough to have.

“Yeah?”

They stopped dancing, backing
away to look at one another. David brought his hands to her neck, stroking the
underside of her chin as he did. She was both beauty and pride wrapped as one,
even with minor scars she still had on her face from her accident. She’d once
told him that the scars were her beauty marks, as well as memorials, of sorts,
for the baby they’d lost.

They’d talked about the baby,
the what–could–have and should–have–been. They’d cried about it too. Lots of
tears, lots of hugs; lots of long nights where they would simply lay in each
other’s arms, healing as they reveled in each other’s bodies. At times, he
could still see the pain in her eyes, the memory would always plague her, he
was sure of it. But he was proud of her nonetheless. The girl was amazing. And
now, to top it off, legally his—seven months in the making.

“Where do you think we’d be
right now if we’d never slept together that night in your car?”

“Honestly?” She blinked up at
him. Those blue eyes of hers were definitely the epitome of honesty.

“Yeah, honestly.”

She seemed to think about his
question, one eye shutting as she chewed almost violently on her thumbnail.
Then boom, both eyes were there once more, bright, open and fully focused on
him.

“I think we would have found
each other somehow or another. I mean, I never gave up on you, David. And I
knew we were one of those couples that had no choice but to actually
be
together someday. But apparently life has a way of making that happen on its
own, whether it’s with our help, or not.”

“God, you’re amazing, you know
that?” She curled her nose, looking adorably…bunny–like. He felt like a
complete numb nuts for even thinking that, but that’s exactly what she looked
like. All adorable and pale white, like a bunny. Completely huggable—not to
forget kissable, sexy, and of course,
his
.

“Ehh, I try. You’re not so bad
yourself, you know that?” Tipping his chin down, he pressed his lips to her
forehead, falling in love with her more every second of the day, even after
three years together as an official couple.

“Well, Abs, let’s just call it
a tie then, shall we?”

She stared up at him, no
longer dancing. Her hands dropped to his shoulders and she focused fully on
him, no wavering of her gaze, just a stead–fire stern look in her eyes that
didn’t seem to cease. “I don’t like ties, David. I think that maybe we should—”

“Have an all–night competition
maybe?”

“That’s not fair. I can barely
stay awake past ten anymore,” she pouted. Her lower lip jutted out, and her
eyes blinked accordingly. Dammit,
she
was the one not playing fair here
when she threw in
that
look.

“I promise to play fair…”

“That’s impossible. You don’t
play fair—ever.”

“Oh yes I do, and you…” he
lowered his lips to her ears again, playing his own dirty game, “are the most
incredible fucking card shark I know.”

Her body shivered, her breath
came out in pants, followed by a tiny moan as his mouth found her neck. He
kissed her, just below the ear where he knew she would melt and agree with his
coercion. Being evil and devious when it worked in both of their favors in the
end was well worth it.

“Fine…but can we make it
strip
poker tonight at least?”

Chuckling, he nuzzled his nose
against her cheek, inhaling the smell of delicious skin. “That’s a damn good
idea, Mrs. Anderson.”

“You drive a hard bargain,
Mr.
Anderson, but as long as you promise to give me a head start first… Maybe take
off your shirt first, or I totally wouldn’t oppose the pants either…” she
reached for his belt, her eyes narrowed, her lips parted. Damn—screw the
game—his
wife
apparently needed catering to.

“Deal. I’ll take off whatever
you want me to. Now let’s go, before I lose control right here.”

Stepping up on her tiptoes,
Abigail brushed her lips over his, grinning when she pulled back again. She
looked just as flustered as he felt. Good, very good. He had her right where
she belonged.

“Let’s go then. Take me home,
David Paul.”

Pulling her into his hold,
taking all she offered, giving all he had in return, he nodded back at her,
“You’ve got it, Abs.”

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