Thirty-Three
Porter
“Let’s go to dinner.”
“Porter, we don’t have time.” Asher stood in the middle of the nursery, as I stood in the doorway, my hands holding the upper frame.
“Beautiful, we have nothing but time right now. It’s our last night. Let’s go to dinner.”
We got a lot accomplished in the last thirty hours. We had a moving company coming tomorrow to pack and move everything to San Diego.
We traded in Asher’s clown car for a Mercedes-Benz GLS-class SUV with a third row—the entire luxury car thing not exactly Asher’s preference, but fuck if I was letting her drive something that was subpar.
And Asher spoke with Sydney’s doctor through Skype, and scheduled an appointment for early next week.
We even lined up three house showings in San Diego over the weekend.
As for this place, we found an agent and hopefully he could get it sold, sooner rather than later.
For as shitty as the situation was, it was actually turning out to be not that bad.
I just had one last piece that needed to be accomplished.
“Do I have to put on better clothes?” She looked down at her typical attire and while I did love her yoga pants and shirts that showed off her belly, what I had in mind needed something a little nicer.
“A dress, maybe? I know you have one,” I teased.
She grumbled but I knew she was going to do it, as she moved toward me and, without looking at me, tried to step past me.
So not happening.
I wrapped my arm just under her belly, stopping her, and pulled her to me. I dropped my head to kiss her lightly on her cheek and when she lifted her face, I laid one on her lips.
“Thank you for being the calm one in all of this,” I told her.
She lifted her brows. “You’ve been surprisingly calm yourself.”
“Yeah. You shouldn’t talk to Jonny when we get there.”
Asher’s grin was wide. “Oh, I’m sure you had an earful for him.”
I nodded, but didn’t elaborate. “Go get dressed, beautiful.”
***
I was so fucking nervous.
Why, I wasn’t entirely sure.
Something could go wrong.
This whole thing, planned as it was, could blow up in my face.
I could feel myself sweating and my leg wouldn’t stop bouncing under the table.
Across from me, Asher dipped her bread in the oil plate, completely oblivious to me.
I had all these things I wanted to say, and I was pretty confident I was going to forget every single one of them.
“Dessert?” I asked as she popped the last of her bread in her mouth.
We were at Maggiano’s, the very one I brought Asher to on our first date. I don’t think she realized it, but we had the same meal; the only difference was, we’d be having dessert tonight, too.
She sighed happily. “I’m pretty full.”
I was so fucking glad she had an appetite again but I wasn’t doing ‘full’ tonight. “I already ordered it.”
“Porter, we can’t close the place again,” she said, her brows up. It did something to me, to know her head was back to that first dinner she and I had together.
God, it felt like ages ago.
We were two very different people then.
I looked past Asher, hoping to see our waiter. It wouldn’t do me any good to have this conversation without dessert coming.
And there he was.
“I know we can’t,” I said, reaching across the table for her hand, which she placed in mine. “We’ve been through a lot these last four and half years.”
She nodded, and I could see the wheels in her head turning.
“Did I ever tell you how nervous I was the first time I brought you here? Walking you out of the arena, I couldn’t figure out where to put my hands, and all I wanted to do was kiss you. Did you know that?”
Asher grinned crookedly. “No, I didn’t know that. You were pretty smooth.”
“I have never been more thankful for meddling family members than I was that weekend.”
“Even though they continue to meddle?” Asher lifted a brow.
“I will say that their meddling has mostly been useful, yes,” I admitted, a grin of my own on my face. “For what it’s worth, I would have come after you eventually.”
“I probably would have thought it was because I was pregnant. You did mail me back my things.”
I squeezed her hand. “I’d have proved to you that you’re it for me. Because you are. I knew it at nineteen, I knew it at twenty-one, and I know it now. Babies or no babies, you’re my person, Asher.”
Quietly, the waiter left the plate of brownies and vanilla bean ice cream on the table. A quick glance showed what I was looking for, but Asher hadn’t looked yet. She was watching me, and those eyes of hers…
Shit, the colors were swirling and I could tell she was going to cry.
“I would take your sass any day of the week, over not seeing your face first thing in the morning. I live for your laughter. And I have for years. Your laughs, your smiles. I hate when you’re sad, when you’re hurt. I would do anything to take your past from you, to ease some of that for you, but because of it, you are the strongest person I know. I love you so fucking much, you know.”
“I know.” Her voice had gone soft.
“I asked you once before,” I started, reaching with my free hand for the plate to slide it between us. She glanced down and I heard her slight intake of breath, knowing she saw her ring there.
“But Asher Spence, would you please make an honest man of me, and agree to marry me?”
With my eyes on hers, I caught her answer.
Between her nodding, her hand over her mouth, and the tears falling down her face, I knew her answer was the same one she gave me in a car, two years ago.
But this time, we were different people. We were a little bit older. We were a little bit wiser.
And I could definitely say we loved a hell of a lot deeper.
“Yes, Porter. A thousand times, yes.”