Until Trevor (Until, #2)(45)

I watch him from the passenger seat as he too kneels down in front of Dad’s headstone. I can see his lips moving, but can’t make out the words. But then, he reaches out, pats the top of the headstone, stands up, and makes his way to the driver’s side of the truck.

Once back in the truck, he takes the blindfold out of his pocket, wrapping it back over my eyes. “One more stop,” he says. I feel the truck reverse, and we drive for a good while. When he parks the truck, he drags me out on his side, carrying me again, but this time, just a short ways. When he stops walking, he sets me on the ground, leads me by my hand, and helps me sit; I can tell it’s a swing I’m sitting on. When he removes the blindfold, he’s kneeling in front of me. I look around to see where we are.

“Why are we here?” I tilt my head back, looking up at the tree I was sitting under. The swing is one I used to swing on all the time when I was young. The old rope ties up high in the branches of the old giant weeping willow; the outer branches of the tree creates its own private escape for whoever was swinging.

“I talked to your mom, and she told me that the two of them would spend time here when they were dating. She also told me that this is where your dad asked her to marry him.” His eyes are warm when he’s talking about my parents.

“It is; this was my dad’s favorite spot,” I tell him, remembering coming here when I was little. “I used to make my dad push me on this swing for hours. Sometimes he would bring a picnic; once, he even had a tea party here with me and dressed up.” I laugh, and so does Trevor.

When he looks over my face, I see so much love in his eyes that my palms start to sweat and I hold my breath. “Your mom told me that this was a special place for you, a spot full of love and happiness. That’s why I wanted to bring you here.”

“Oh,” I say, watching Trevor lean forward and pull something out of his pocket, before returning to his kneeling position.

“You are my best friend. I can laugh with you—and fight with you—but I always know that I will be with you. You are the person I want to start a family with, grow old with, make memories with, dream with, cry with, and live this life with. Will you marry me?” He holds the ring out to me between two fingers. I cover my mouth, looking down at the beautiful ring with an emerald-cut stone my eyes shoot up to his. “This is the part where you say, ‘I can’t imagine living my life without you’…and say yes.” He actually looks nervous.

“Yes,” I struggle to get out with my mouth still covered. He takes the hand that’s covering my mouth, brings it to his, and kisses my fingers, before sliding the ring on.

“Perfect,” he says, kissing my finger before pulling me down to him.

“This has to be the best proposal in the history of proposals,” I tell him, laughing.

“I figured I f*cked up the first one pretty badly; I needed to make up for that.”

“The first proposal was you,” I tell him, pulling my face away from his neck so I can look at him. “You’re very bossy and demanding; that’s one of the reasons I love you.”

“You’re stuck with me for life.”

“I know; maybe I’m crazy, but that makes me very happy.” I laugh when he starts tickling me.

“Let’s go home crazy girl.”

“Let’s go home and celebrate,” I clarify.

“Oh, we’re definitely going to celebrate.” He picks me up, tosses me over his shoulder, and walks us back up to the truck.

On the ride home, I ask him what he was saying when he was alone for those few minutes at my dad’s grave. He tells me that he was asking Dad’s permission to ask me to marry him. I didn’t think I could fall any more in love with Trevor, but apparently, I was very wrong. My heart swells with love for my fiancé—wow…my fiancé—and when we got home, we celebrated all night long.




Chapter 9

Trevor

The night after the “bar-b-que”—, which was really a surprise engagement party—I flip on the bedside lamp when I hear the phone ring. “Yeah?” I answer, when I see Cash’s number on the display.

“Meet me at the barn in twenty,” he says, before he hangs up. I look down at the phone in my hand, wondering what the hell is going on. Since we were kids, if one of us has a problem, we meet at the old barn on my parents’ property. I look down at Liz, who is sleeping soundly beside me. Her face is tucked into the crook of my arm, her breathing even, and her hand with her engagement ring laying across my abs.

“Baby,” I whisper, running my fingers down her smooth cheek.

“Go away,” she mumbles, smacking at my hand. I chuckle, running my hand down her cheek again, making her swat at me, before rolling away from me. “Baby,” I say again, this time near her ear, making her groan and hide her head under the pillow. “I need to leave; I’ll be back,” I say. Her head comes out from under the pillow, and she looks at the clock, then me.

“It’s three in the morning.” Her voice is soft, her eyes sleepy and concerned.

“Cash called, and he needs me.”

“Is he okay?” She sits up, her white tank top hiding nothing. “Should I come with you?” she asks, pulling her hair out of her face, looking around the room, adorably confused.