Authors: Shelly Crane

Wide Open (33 page)

BOOK: Wide Open

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Her eyes lifted and they spilled over with tears as her lips parted with her gasp, as if she were just now understanding what the ring was for. My body took a hit like a physical blow.

God help me…she didn't want to.

"
Good night
," I groaned and licked my lips as I leaned back a little to give her some room. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done this here—"

My feisty little girl yanked me down to her just like that very first time and proceeded to suck the tongue right out of my head. Little did we know that the party had basically stopped behind us and were now very privy to our not-so-private-very-public proposal. The claps in our ears made her gasp into my mouth and we both turned to find a roomful of happy people. Mason mouthed for me to put the ring on her finger.

I realized I hadn't even done that; we'd just jumped right into our favorite part. "Sweetheart?" I whispered.

"Yes," she laughed and I saw the tears on her cheeks. "I can't believe you even have to wait for the answer. Yes."

Maya joked from that day on about Will's last word. He wanted her taken care of—well, he definitely got that.

We wasted no time. Three weeks later, we got married in a very small ceremony. It was a hard day for her, I knew. It was another reason to keep it small and not make a big monstrosity out of it. Her brother, Dad, and mom weren't there for the big day, and I actually felt pretty guilty for asking her when it came down to it because of that, but she said she would get through it and she did. Emma and Mason helped a lot. And baby Jackson of course. No one could be sad with Jackson around.

We got a little cabin in the mountains for a week for our honeymoon from Mason and Emma as our wedding present and it was the perfect thing. To be away from everything and everyone, to just get lost in each other and fall, over and over and over again.

I chased Maya all over that cabin, and the sounds of her giggles and laughs and many of her
other
sounds would follow me forever into our life together. All I really wanted was someone I could love who would love me for who I was and not expect me to be someone else. Someone I could fall completely for and know that no matter what, she'd always be there when I needed her. And I promised to be that for Maya every day, every second. I was hers—body, soul, and every future Chinese fortune cookie. And she was mine.

Because when you fall, all you really want is for somebody to catch you.

THE VERY END

PLAYLIST

Hide : House of Heroes

Pompeii : Bastille

Fall Asleep : Jars of Clay

Just Like Heaven : The Cure

Between The Raindrops : Lighthouse, Natasha Bedingfield

Stubborn Love : The Lumineers

Wants What It Wants : Andrew Belle

Centered On You : Atlas Genius

Wild : Parade of Lights

Things Ain't Like They Used To Be : The Black Keys

The World I Know : Collective Soul

Dust To Dust : The Civil Wars

Let Her Go : Passeger

Run : Shorelines End

Welcome Home, Son : Radical Face

Let It Be Me : Ray LaMontagne

Say Something : A Great Big World

This Is What It Feels Like : Armin Van Buuren

Falling Slowly : Glen Hansard

THANK YOU:

God, thank you that I'm still here. Thank you for everything.

Thank you so much to my family!

My three guys are always there for me and I'll always love you to pieces for it.

Thank you to my street team, Sweet Street!

You're awesome. I appreciate you. I see the ones who are always sharing. You may not think I see it, but I do. I see 

To the HELLCATS, thank you for ALL you've done for my sanity this year—not just for this book, but for them all. When I have a problem or a good thing, you're the first people I want to run and tell. You always know the right thing to say. You're the best advisers, the best friends, the best authors, the best people I know. Personal, professional, and otherwise. I love you girls. You know how hard I heart you all! Massively!

To the book bloggers and readers, you rock my socks off as always. I do this for you. Even with all the craziness with my health and personal stuff going on, you've all been so awesome. I appreciate all the well wishes! More books to come.

And thank you, Mom. No one out there knows that my mom has Leukemia, on top of lots of other health issues. With my health stuff plus her health stuff, I usually avoid books that deal with cancer and illness and such because they hurt to read. So the fact that this book sprung itself on me was as much as surprise to me as anyone. When I got to the second chapter and Maya is fixing Will's drinks for him, thinking about how all she wanted was for him to get better, I almost scratched the whole project right there. Honest to God. But, I put the book aside for a few days and came back to it. My mom deals with her illness much like Will, and her illness is diagnosed much like Will's. It is what it is and there is no medicine for the type of Leukemia she has. In a way, I guess this book helped me to understand the way she copes and handles her illness better. This book was healing and therapy in more ways than one for me, not just for my own health issues and my mother's, but also for the fact that I grew up around alcoholics and drug addicts. Both the kind that were in denial and the kind that wanted help so badly, like Milo.

If nothing else, I hope this book could be just a little bit of therapy for you, too. Best wishes, and happy endings.

Shelly Crane

Shelly is a
New York Times
&
USA Today
bestselling author from a small town in Georgia and loves everything about the south. She is wife to a fantastical husband and stay at home mom to two boisterous and mischievous boys who keep her on her toes. They currently reside in scorching North Florida. She loves to spend time with her family, binge on candy corn, go out to eat at new restaurants, buy paperbacks at little bookstores, sightsee in the new areas they travel to, listen to new music everywhere, and LOVES to read.
Her own books happen by accident and she revels in the writing and imagination process. She doesn't go anywhere without her notepad for fear of an idea creeping up and not being able to write it down immediately, even in the middle of the night, when her best ideas are born.