Page 72 of Final Proposal

“Good God, woman.” He presses a kiss between my breasts. “Good fucking God.”

I run a hand through his hair, reveling in the feeling of our hearts pounding against one another’s. In our chests moving in unison.

“Should I take that as a compliment?” I tease as I twist a strand of his hair around my finger.

“Mm-hmm. Mistakes. They’re a beautiful thing, aren’t they?”

“Only when it comes to you.”

Ford

Twenty-Six Years Ago

The world seesaws back and forth with every push of her foot on the porch. The swing creaks with the motion, and if I close my eyes, I feel like I’m spinning in space. But the smell of the barbecue and the sound of my brothers playing Marco Polo in the pool bring me back to earth before I can even pretend.

My mom’s fingers play absently with the back of my neck.

“Please don’t tell Dad I cried.”

“Ford. There’s no shame in showing your emotions.” I look over to my mom and shrug. Her brownish-blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail and her brown eyes hold mine.

“I’m a boy. Boys don’t cry.”

“That’s nonsense and you know it.”

“Dad says men shouldn’t show their emotions.” I sniffle.

“You want me to tell you a secret?” she asks, and I nod. “I’ve seen Dad cry before.”

“Yeah. Right.” I roll my eyes. There’s no way.

“I’m serious. I can remember the times clearly. The day we got married. He teared up when he saw me coming down the aisle. He was in front of hundreds of people, but he didn’t care. He said it was because he knew how lucky he was getting to spend his life with me.”

Yuck. Love stuff doesn’t count.

“That’s once.”

“And I remember the day you three were born.” I love the look on her face. I don’t know what it means, but she looks happy. Like when she was holding her friend’s baby and making that weird humming sound as she rocked her. “You were all in bassinets lined up next to each other in the hospital room. He stood in front of you with this look on his face I’ll never forget. Love. Pride. Disbelief. Like you were his everything and his greatest accomplishment all rolled into one. He was crying then too.”

“Did you cry then?”

“Of course, I did. It was one of the happiest days of my life.”

“Do you think it was his?”

“I know it was.” She ruffles my hair. “Now do you want to tell me what else is on your mind other than Ledger being mean to you? Because you’re moping around here today and it’s not because of him.”

“Just thinking is all.”

“Does that have anything to do with why you aren’t out there playing with your brothers?”

Another shrug as she pushes to keep the swing moving. “Maybe.”

“Okay.” She gives that slow nod of her head that says she’s listening. If it’s a sharp nod, you’re in trouble. If it’s slow, it means she’s ready for you to talk to her.

But I don’t know if I want to talk.

The summers in Sag Harbor are my favorite. There’s the beach and sailing and playing anywhere and everywhere so long as we’re home by the time the sky is dark.