Page 44 of Falling for Ezra Thomas
“Well,” I say and lick my lips, pausing our walk. “See, I guess I kind of am making a pitch. I’m not positive where I’ll be sent, but there are a lot of places I can go where you can…you can come with me…if…I mean if you want to.” My voice wavers on the last few words, but only because her eyes get wider the longer I talk.
“Right. We talked about that, too. Are you okay?” She looks up at me, eyes narrowed. She’s right. I’m only repeating things we’ve already discussed. I nod, unable to vocalize anything at this point.
“I mean, I won’t have a job per se, so I’m not sure about getting a visa or something like that to even live wherever you go, but I’ll do my best to—”
“Lore,” I say and grasp her flailing hands. “Lore, I meant…as my wife. You’d live with me, and I would support us. You could work on your books if you want to, but it’s up to you.”
She’s quiet, and it takes me a moment to realize she’s utterly speechless. I’ve probably made a huge mistake, rushed things even faster than we’d discussed, and now she is questioning my sanity.
“Is that a proposal?” she asks.
I run my hands over my hair, which is a habit, but it feels so odd when it’s this short, and sigh. “Oh my gosh, I’m so bad at this.” I fish in my pocket and pull out the ring that Beck and Vivien picked out for me. I’ve seen it, stared at it until my eyes crossed, and I’m still certain this is what I want. I love her, and I want her to be my wife.
I kneel and take a breath.
“Lorelai, I know it’s only been a few months of completely untraditional dating, but I love you. I want to keep learning about you and build a life together. We don’t have to rush. We can plan and I can go to Ranger school, even to my station, and you can come when you’re ready. Whatever you want, I’m willing to do, but I would be so honored if you would agree to marry me.”
I completely suck at this. It’s not romantic at all. My voice cracks with emotion, and I can barely maintain eye contact with her. But her gaze softens and her lips curve into that beautiful smile that I think about every time things seem too hard. My hands shake while her gaze shifts from my face to the ring.
“Ezra,” she whispers and takes my hands in hers. “There was never any chance I would say no. I’ll marry you and go anywhere with you.”
I swallow. “So…you will?”
“Yes. We can have a quick wedding. You go where they tell you, I’ll pack our stuff, and when you get done and know where they’re sending you permanently, well…well, I guess we’ll go.”
“No regrets?”
“Never. I love you.”
I stand and slip the ring on her finger before taking her into a hug. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me, reminding me that even things that seem too good to be true are possible even if they aren’t part of the original plan.
“Are you sure you don’t want to plan a wedding with your mother? Beck and Vivien’s was kind of great, but it’s up to you. I’m going to be happy to be your husband. The rest is just a party.”
“Mmm, I don’t think I want that. It was fun, but I think I’d rather have something really small. Just our families and a few friends. Maybe this fall or winter depending on your schedule. Is that okay?”
I grin and kiss her again, knowing I’m the luckiest guy in the world.
“It’s fine with me, but I have a question,” I say. “Who is going to tell your parents I might be dragging you to another state. Or worse, another country?”
“Pretty sure they know that since you already asked their permission to propose,” she says with an unmistakable glimmer in her eyes. She smiles and leans closer. “Dad wasnotquiet about his celebration when he got off the phone.”
“You were there when I called?”
“Hey, I was hungry, and it was free food. I’m not turning down my mother’s lasagna.”
“I can’t believe I stressed over this for weeks and you already knew. It wasn’t even a surprise. I’m so sorry, Lore.”
“I’m not. It gave me time to think about it and everything that comes along with marrying into the military. I’m ready. Let’s get married and start the rest of our lives.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lorelai
Two months later…
“Hey, I got themail. Did you remember to put it on hold or send it to my place?” Vivien asks when she enters the front door of the apartment we’ve shared for years. She waves the single letter at me and grins. It’s from Ezra.
“Uh, yeah. I’m having it diverted to your place until I figure out what my address will be. It should only be a few things like bank statements and the like,” I say.
