Chapter Eleven

Tiffany tucked the blanket up to her chin. The sun wasn’t too bright through the window yet, but she wasn’t ready to wake yet.

She adjusted on the bed and the jingle of her bracelets caught her attention. She never went to bed with her jewelry on.

Slowly she opened her eyes and panic rose in her chest. She wasn’t in her bed.

It was only a moment later she heard the distinct sound of deep breathing coming from behind her.

Tiffany turned to see who was in the room, only she was too close to the edge of the bed and she fell right onto the floor. That startled the man in the chair and a moment later he fell from the chair, bouncing his head on the table next to him, and landing right beside her.

“Oh, crap!” he said as he sat up with his hand on his head. “Are you okay?” he asked her when he was clearly the one who was hurt.

Tiffany looked at Blake, blood dripping from his forehead.

“You’re bleeding,” she shouted as she moved to him quickly. “Let me see.”

He pulled his hand back and sure enough, there was a cut over his eyebrow where he’d caught the edge of the table when he’d fallen from the chair.

“I’ll get a towel.”

She hurried to the bathroom and grabbed a towel from the rack.

Nearly tripping over her own shoes, she knelt down next to him and pressed the cloth to his head.

“We should get you to the hospital and get this stitched.”

“It’ll be fine in a few minutes.”

Tiffany pushed back her hair and pointed to the raised scar, which her hair always covered. “Three stitches. I know what I’m talking about.”

“How did that happen?”

She felt the heat rise between them as she settled in next to him. “I was jumping on the bed.”

“Alone?”

Narrowing her eyes, she was doing her best to look mean, but he only smiled. “My sister and I. She pushed me. I fell.”

“Is that what you did to me?” he asked reaching up and running his finger over her scar. “Did you push me out of the chair?”

“I fell out of bed. I think I startled you.”

“That would do it.”

“Why was I in your bed?” she asked.

“Why were you sleeping in the hallway?”

Tiffany laughed. “I was waiting for you. I guess I got really tired waiting.”

“You were waiting for me?”

She nodded and pushed her hair over her shoulder and out of her way. “The guy across the hall said you went to church.”

“I told you, I always go to church.”

“I was waiting.”

“You must have waited a long time. I had to have Waffle House breakfast too.”

She laughed. “You brought me in here?”

“Carried you in,” he said reaching for her free hand and entangling their fingers together. “You didn’t even stir.”

Tiffany licked her lips. “Why didn’t you sleep with me? There was no need for you to sleep in a chair.”

“Gentleman, remember?”

“You don’t look like one.”

“Looks can be deceiving.”

“I love you.” The words simply broke free and she hadn’t even meant to say them in such a way.

His eyes lit up as he looked at her, still holding the towel on his forehead. “Where did that come from?”

Tiffany swallowed hard. “My heart.”

He smiled and it warmed her insides. “Why did I scare you off last night?”

“I’ve never really been in love,” she said. “I thought I had, but I know now I was wrong. Oh, and Spencer’s grandmother said they all knew it. It was in my eyes.”

He laughed. “You asked her advice?”

“She just gave it really. But she was right. I didn’t even give you a chance.”

“A chance to what?”

“Ask me to marry you.”

Blake took hold of the towel and maneuvered so that he could stand up. Tiffany followed and quickly regretted everything she’d just said. Obviously she’d made him very uncomfortable by saying it. Especially since he hadn’t said…

“I love you too,” he said wincing as he removed the towel from his head. “This isn’t the romantic way I imagined this.”

He looked at the towel and then back at her.

“Is it stopping?”

She shook her head and pressed the towel back to his forehead. “You need stitches. I told you.”

“Okay. I suppose it’s no worse than another tattoo, right?”

That made her laugh. “I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

~*~

It was stupid, really, to be nervous of the doctor coming at him with a needle and thread. He’d nearly vomited on the nurse when she started to clean his cut. Then he almost passed out when they came at him with the needle.

Tiffany laughed as he squeezed her hand so tight she had yelped.

“How did you let someone draw all over you with needles and this hurts?”

“Don’t ask me questions I can’t answer,” he said wincing. He couldn’t feel the stitch going in, he could just feel the tug, but it was enough.

“What would your mother say to calm you now?”

“She’d tell me to sing something,” he said as he grit his teeth.

“Then sing something.”

“Here?”

She laughed again. “You’re a musician. Can’t you do it on cue?”

It seemed like the most horrible time to sing it, but he began to sing the song he’d written about her. The one that had launched her right into his arms at the store.

As he sang the chorus of forever mine, a tear fell from her eye and streaked down her cheek. With the doctor still finishing his sewing job, Blake couldn’t reach for her and wipe it away.

“Don’t cry,” he said softly.

“They’re happy tears, really.”

“Are you happy?”

Her lips turned up into a beautiful smile. “I am happy. I truly am happy.”

“I believe you now,” he said as the doctor finished the stitches, wished him well, and was on his way. The nurse excused herself to finish the paperwork.

Tiffany slid up onto the bed with him and examined his newest “tattoo,” on his forehead. “That’s going to leave a mark.”

“Not as big as the one you’ve left on my heart.”

She sighed and leaned into him. “Are you always going to talk to my lyrically?”

“Does it make you swoon?”

“It seems to.”

He chuckled. “Then, yeah. Expect it to happen.”

She sat back and looked at him. “We have a lot of things to discuss if this is going to work. How do we handle your touring? When will I see you? Where will we make a home?”

Blake pulled her to him and covered her lips with his. She molded against him and it only made him love her more knowing how well she fit in his arms.

“My home is where you are. As for handling my touring, there’s nothing more to handle than to make sure we have a good Internet connection so I can see you every day.” He raked his fingers back into her hair. “I’ll never stray from you, Tiffany.”

She batted her damp lashes. “I know that. I don’t know how I know that, but I do.”

“Because you love me.”

She smiled. “I do.”

“Will you marry me?”

She chuckled and nodded. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

“I’m going to ask you again, when I’m not covered in my own blood.”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think I’d ever have a story to rival your parents’ fall in love story, but maybe I do.”

“Merry Christmas,” he said nipping her lips with one more kiss.

She sighed as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Merry Christmas.”