Birthday Girl

One Year Later

“I’ll learn on my own if you stop micro-managing me!” I scold, trying to push Pike’s hands off my handles.

He sits behind me on my new four-wheeler and revs the gas, vaulting us up out of the ravine and out of the mud. I gasp, leaning back into him and my stomach dropping to my feet as I clutch his forearms to steady myself. I laugh.

“Well, if you’d wear the helmet…” he says.

“But I can’t see in the helmet.”

We’re mudding. It’s not like we’re cruising at thirty-five miles an hour out here. I don’t need a helmet for this. And plus, I’m just learning how to use the quad today. He’ll be lucky if I top out at twelve miles an hour.

But if I won’t wear the helmet, then he won’t let me drive it alone until I’ve been given proper instruction. Hence, the driver’s ed lesson.

We race across the bank, mud splattering all over my new red ATV, my boots, and jeans. I also feel a few drops of something cold periodically land on my hair, held out of my face with a baseball hat, and on my shirt.

My finals just ended this week, and I’ve had lack-of-sleep headaches non-stop, but I feel so much better today. I’m glad he surprised me with this. A day of him, fun, and fresh air is all I needed.

He’s been so great through my bad moods the past couple weeks as I study, making me snacks and doing well to not distract me while I get work done.

Although he did come into the library—my old bedroom—and tempt me with a quickie here and there under the guise that I needed a study break.

Yeah, okay.

I smile, remembering him walking in while my nose was buried in a book, pulling off his shirt, and telling me he’s going to get a shower, but I know what he really wants, because he knows the sight of him in only jeans is my frickin’ porn. I didn’t put up a fight. I never do. I want him just as much as he wants me.

But now finals are over and so are classes until next fall, and I’m all his.

His truck is parked ahead, and his ATV still sits on the attached trailer, clean and shining just like new.

He pulls to a stop and turns off the motor, burying his lips in my neck and kissing me.

“I have a present for you,” he teases.

I turn my head, grazing my lips over his cheek. “You already gave me my present.” I run my fingers over the handles of my new four-wheeler and also remembering the orgasm I got at six a.m. this morning. It’s been a very good birthday so far.

“The four-wheeler was just an excuse to get myself one, really,” he explains.

I nibble his jaw. “So, what is it then? More antiques for my collection?”

“Cassette tapes aren’t antiques, Jordan,” he states firmly.

I laugh. “You’re right, you’re right. They’re considered classics. Like cars over thirty years old. Like you!” I chirp. “You’re a classic.”

He clamps his hand over my mouth, stifling my laughter and shaking his head. He’s not offended by my running joke. I only tease him about his age, because he still thinks it’s an issue, and I’m trying to lighten the mood.

And to a few people around town, it is strange. But they mean nothing to us. Cole, my sister, and Shel have all come around, albeit Cole a little slower than the others, but they’re all that matters.

I bite at his fingers on my mouth, playing, but suddenly, he holds up a small, black leather box in front of me, and I stop.

My face falls, and I’m no longer laughing.

Lowering his hand from my face, he remains silent as I stare at the case, a million different thoughts running through my head right now, but I can barely hear them, because the pulse in my ears is deafening.

Oh, my God. It’s not a…ring, is it? I mean, we haven’t talked about this.

I always hoped it would come to this, but Pike doesn’t take big steps without a little help. I had no idea…

Slowly reaching out, I take the box out of his hand and open it, my mouth going as dry as a desert when I see the diamond ring inside.

Tears sting my eyes, and my mouth falls open.

It’s a rose. Like the ones on the birthday cake he got me last year and the flowers I planted around the house this spring. A large diamond sits in the middle of platinum petals, adorned with little stones themselves, and it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Beautiful and special and completely me.

He wants to marry me?

I let out a little sob, overwhelmed. “Are you kidding me right now?” I snap. “I’m covered in mud!”

He’s doing this now? When there were hundreds of dinners and breakfasts in bed this past year when I was pretty and clean?

His chest shakes with a laugh behind me and he wraps his arms around my waist. “You’re beautiful.”

I rub my thumb over the large stone. It’s real. All this is real.

“I’ve been planning this for a long time,” he says. “You think I’d know what I wanted to do or say, but I can’t think right now.” His breath falls across my hair as he whispers. “I guess I should’ve gotten down on one knee, huh?”

“No, don’t let go of me.” My voice shakes.

I swallow the hard lump in my throat and pull the ring out, setting the box down and trying it on. The cool band slides on perfectly, and I take his hand, putting it on the handle again with mine on top of it.

His finger doesn’t yet have a ring as I entwine our hands.

But it will.

My heart swells like it’s too much for my chest to hold, and I’m speechless. He certainly surprised me. I can’t believe he did this without giving me one clue what he was up to.

I stare at our hands together, leaning back into him and even more excited now for everything that’s to come. I think part of me—a small part—was still waiting for him. It was always in the back of my mind, that fear that he might still see me as too young or not ready for this or him, but he has to know…

I’m happy every day. There’s nothing that feels better than him.

A few raindrops hit my arms, the clouds overhead darkening, and I finally find my breath, inhaling deeply.

“So, you going to say ‘yes’ or…” He trails off.

I smile at the small ounce of fear I hear in his voice at my silence. “Yes.” I turn and kiss him. “You make me so happy. I love you.”

He presses his forehead to mine. “I love you so much it hurts, baby.”

His mouth sinks to mine again, and he takes my face in his hands, kissing me and teasing my tongue to where I feel it everywhere. My breathing turns ragged, and I’m about to suggest we take this to the truck, since we’re all alone out here, but the rain picks up, hitting my body much faster now.

I break the kiss and look up, squinting against the rain to see the storm clouds overhead. Summer storms are starting early this year.

He climbs off, helping me, and we both jog to the passenger side of the truck, him opening my door for me.

“Can we do it today?” I ask, taking my brand-new, unused helmet off my seat and setting it on the floor.

“Get married?” he asks. “You really don’t care about the wedding, do you?”

I look over to see him grinning at me as he pulls off his muddy shirt and tosses it into the bed of the truck.

I stand in the open door and shrug. It never occurred to me growing up to care about a party and fancy clothes. When other young women dreamed up their theme colors and bridesmaids’ dresses, I just wanted everything after that. The husband, the kids, the home with the smell of cookies after school, picnics and road trips…

I climb the step, about to get into the truck, but he pulls me back around and into him. I fall into his naked chest, my feet still planted on the step, and wrap my arms around his neck.

“I kind of do care about it,” he admits, flinching a little as if in apology. “I’ve never been married before, either, you know? I’d love to see you in a dress.”

Now how can I say no to that? I nod, kissing him again. It might be fun, actually. Engagement photos in the mud? Yes, please.

“I was thinking Mexico,” he tells me, peering up at me. “A beach on the Sea of Cortez and just you, me, and our close and personals?”

I smile. “Hell, yes.”

Sounds right up our alley. Quiet, private, and perfect. And I’d be lying if I didn’t say it excited me to go somewhere I’ve never been. I’ve barely been out of this town, and the idea of having to get a passport thrills me as much as now having to shop for this dress Pike is going to die when he sees me in.

I’m already bubbling with excitement at the look I hope to see on his face.

He looks up at me, growing quiet and his eyes serious. “You gonna want kids?” he asks.

My heart thumps, knowing this is a potentially sensitive subject.

“One, at least?” I broach, timid. “Is that okay?”

I understand that starting over is a lot to ask of him, but I would love to have his baby.

Eventually.

To my surprise he barely hesitates before nodding. “I’m okay with it,” he answers. “Can’t wait too long, though, or I’ll be getting the senior citizen discount at the kid’s graduation dinner.”

I break into a laugh.

“After you get your degree, though,” he tells me, “it’s on, okay?”

“Okay.”

I sit down in the seat and pull off my muddy boots, throwing them in the bed with Pike’s shirt, and I take off my hat, my hair falling around my face.

“You know…” I start, “I’m a little nervous.”

“Oh?”

I shake my head, tsking. “Marrying an older man with so much more experience…”

He comes up to me, grabbing my hips and pulling me to the edge of the seat and into him. I run my hand up his naked chest.

“I don’t need my wife to know what other men like,” he states. “Just what I like.”

My eyebrows shoot up, getting an idea. Slowly, I unbutton the flannel shirt I’m wearing and watch his eyes go round when he sees I have nothing on underneath it. I open it slightly, inviting his eyes to rest on my bare breasts.

“And what do you like?” I taunt like that night in the kitchen when I put a Band-Aid on his finger.

His gaze is locked on my chest, and I let the shirt fall down my arms, my nipples hard from the chill of the rain in the air.

I drop my voice to a whisper. “I think I need more practice.”

His eyes grow dark and full of desire as he looks up at me. Pulling himself up on the step, he dives into the truck and out of the rain, his body coming down on top of mine. I fall back on the seat, opening my legs for him as I work to open his belt.

Our lips hover over each other.

“Whatever the birthday girl wants,” he whispers.