There’s no goodbye
I hold my breath it seems, for the whole song, until his fingers scrape the strings and the music cuts off and silence is thick with just the sound of his shallow breaths. He can’t meet my eyes. The guitar makes a hollow, clanking sound as he jars it awkwardly against the grass.
“So that’s it,” he says.
Sienna lets out a sob, then she’s up and stumbling for her brother, pulling him up and hugging him. She cries into his neck, and then Aiden joins, then Whit. Emory and I smile at each other across the grass. I feel like crying too, but happy tears.
It feels like coming home.
“What did Alexis pack us?”
We’re digging into the food after Whit demanded another rendition of the song and claimed he was going to get it tattooed on his chest.
“Hard cider.” Tristan digs around. “Hot chocolate for you.” He holds up a bag of marshmallows. “And all the right accoutrements.” He looks around furtively before he dips a hand into his pocket. “And this.”
He holds out his palm, still closed around whatever it is.
“Alexis packed me whatever is in your hand?”
“No.” His mouth tilts into a small smile, but his gaze is searching mine, like he’s nervous. “I did.” His throat moves in a hard swallow. “I wanted to wait until your birthday, but I couldn’t make it.”
“A t-shirt can’t fit in your hand,” I tease. The tension melts from his shoulders.
“I upped my game this year.”
“I don’t know. A t-shirt’s pretty—oh.” My words stumble, then stick in my throat. Tristan’s hand is open now, and in his palm is a ring. A lovely ring that shines in the firelight.
“It’s an heirloom,” he says gently. “Part of the family. Because I’d really like you to be part of it too.”
“I already said yes, Tristan.” I give him a watery smile. My heart is throbbing so hard in my chest that I think I’m shaking.
He lifts my hand. “I wanted to do it right. Will you marry me, Katie Bailey?”
I nod, smiling and crying at the same time.
He slips the ring on, lifts my face, and kisses me. It’s gentle. Clinging. No tongue. Just the soft graze of his lips and his hand on my jaw that tilts me toward him.
“I love you beyond words,” he says huskily. “Beyond reason.”
“I love you too, Tristan Prince. And I got you something to prove it.”
He barks a surprised laugh when I give him my back and start to shuck the coat I have on. “Bailey, much as I’d like a strip—oh.”
My heart is tripping in my chest. I press a palm to my throat. “Sienna gave it to me,” I say quickly. The jersey is Tristan’s old sailing shirt and on the back is PRINCE in huge block letters. “I didn’t take it.”
“It was meant to be yours,” he says huskily.
“What?” My eyes widen.
“Yours,” he repeats, smiling now. “We were supposed to give the jerseys to a girlfriend. I never gave mine away. I guess Sienna knew that.”
“I wanted to show you how much I want you too.” I look down at the faded jersey and its green and white stripes. “I guess it’s not as good as a ring.”
“You? In my name? It’s better.” His voice is husky. He pulls my hair free of the collar with gentle motions that make fissures open in my chest. “I don’t think I can handle—fuck.”
The curse is muttered before his lips find mine, fumbling briefly in the dark, but good, so good, when we finally connect. So infinitely right. My hand clutches at his neck, his fingers tighten on my jaw, and I float. It feels like my body has come free of the earth and Tristan is the only person in the universe.
Until his siblings start whooping, and we both wrench away. I bury my face in my hands.
