Something About Fireworks Page 8

“Okay, so what happened?”

  “Gray saw me, recognized me from the day before, and we just started talking. Somehow, the conversation flowed into me telling him about Camden and you and my history, and then before I knew it, he was asking me on a date.”

  “That’s so sweet. So, you spent the rest of the party with him?”

  “Pretty much. I don’t know how to explain it, Audrey. We connected so easily, practically spilling our life stories before the sun had set. You know my whole love at first acquaintance belief. Well, that’s what this feels like. I don’t know how else to describe it. Every day with him just confirms what I felt that first day.”

  “Ooh, what about your first kiss?”

  “Fireworks.”

  “What? Like that’s how you felt, or literally?”

  I snort a laugh. “Both.”

  “What is it with you and fireworks?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  I cock my head to the side, drawing my brows together. Audrey rolls her eyes just as the screen glitches a little.

  “Our first kiss was when we were watching fireworks.”

  I scour my brain for the memory and find it. “Oh yeah. What were we, like ten?”

  “You were ten. I was eleven.”

  “Wow. That seems like so long ago.”

  “Over twenty years.” Audrey gives me a heartfelt look. “Sometimes I wish you would have told me years earlier that you were gay, before we ever dated, but then I realize if you had—”

  “We wouldn’t have Camden. I know.” I let out a sigh and glance toward the hallway. “Just so you know, being with you was never horrible.”

  “I know. You told me, but you were still miserable. I’m not sure if I ever told you thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For giving me Camden and always being there for me, even when you were suffering.”

  I press my lips into a tight smile. “I’ll always be there for you.”

  “I know.”

  “Gray knows too. I can’t wait for you to meet him. Will you still be back before Christmas?”

  “Hopefully. There’s one thing I need you to promise me though.”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “No getting married without me!” Audrey laughs. “I call dibs on being your maid of honor.”

  “I guess that means no running off to elope,” I reply, lifting my eyebrows, my lips twisting into a mischievous grin.

  “Oh my God, you did not.”

  I shrug. “It actually came up in conversation once. But no, we didn’t.”

  “Good. Promise me you won’t. Even if you do just a civil ceremony, I want to be there.”

  I can’t help but smile, my heart swelling. I could never do anything to let her down, ever. Not after everything she’s done for me, including the way she handled my coming out.

  “I promise.”

  Chapter 13

  Ollie

  “Did everyone get hot chocolate that wanted some?” Zoe hollers from the sliding glass door.

  Russ repeats her question, holding a mug of his own. Most of the adults opted for Bailey’s added to theirs, including me. Gray insisted since he was driving, and I’ve always loved Irish cream liqueur, so I didn’t argue. Besides, with the temps in the thirties right now, I’m hoping the extra kick will help keep me warm, though Gray embracing me from behind is doing a pretty good job of that in itself.

  Camden abandoned his hot chocolate a few minutes ago to let it cool. He and Zoe’s boys are playing in the six inches of snow on the grass, throwing snowballs at each other. A stray one narrowly misses my leg and grazes Gray’s knee before hitting the wall of the house behind us.

  “Hey, don’t make me come out there!” he yells, his voice playful.

  I laugh a little, and Gray hugs me tighter with his one arm as he lifts his mug of hot chocolate to his lips. It’s something I’ve noticed anytime I laugh, and it warms my heart and soul more than spiked hot chocolate ever could.

  The New Year’s Eve ball drop countdown to midnight finally starts just as Zoe comes out to join us. Only family surrounds us on this get-together—me, my parents, Russ’s mom, Gray, Camden, Zoe’s husband and kids.

  Audrey’s here too, having made it back prior to Christmas as we’d all hoped. Turns out, Audrey and Gray get along like brother and sister. In fact, they’ve even spent the last few days exchanging furtive glances and quiet whispers when they thought I wasn’t paying attention. Little do they know that I know they’re up to something. I just don’t know exactly what.

  Gray hugs me against him in the same spot we stood for the fireworks last July as we all watch the countdown on Lily’s tablet. Apparently the city does a New Year’s Eve fireworks show at the same park as they do Independence Day, so we’re all huddled and waiting for the show.

  The first firework launches right on time, and I sink back into Gray’s embrace the moment it begins. My dad pulls Camden onto his lap to watch as the other kids settle down, and my mom cuddles against him.

  The brilliant display lights up the crisp and cool night sky beautifully, and ushers in the new year with new hopes and new promises for a bright future.

  As I stand with my back to Gray, his arms circled around me, I can’t imagine any other place I’d rather be.

  Gray’s warm breath cascades over my ear as he leans in close. “I love you,” he whispers, as he so often does. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of hearing those words.

  I twist and tilt my head to catch his gaze, the burst of fireworks reflecting in his eyes.

  “I love you too.”

  Gray captures me in a brief, tender kiss and as I turn to continue watching the luminous display, Gray’s lips hover near my ear and he whispers two of the most beautiful words I’ll never forget.

  “Marry me.”

  In that moment, my heart stops as he holds his hand in front of me and unfurls his fingers, revealing a simple but elegant brushed platinum ring.

  We’d talked about getting married almost since the day we met, so much that I never really stopped to think neither of us had actually proposed. But Gray’s words burrow deep into my heart and fill me with a joy I’d never known was possible until now.

  There’s only one answer that I could ever think to give him.

  “Yes.”

  Epilogue

  Gray

  This is the first time I’ve been here that I didn’t feel broken or lost. I only visit Jason’s grave once a year on my birthday—the very day I lost him—but this time, Ollie’s with me. And even though I’ve moved on with my life, I know Jason will always be in my heart, and I’m grateful to have found someone who can understand that.

  “Thank you for coming with me,” I say, squeezing Ollie’s hand.

  “I can’t imagine being anywhere else right now,” he says.

  I smile and release the petals from my pocket as I always do—the ones I collected from his tree in our backyard. I can’t help but think of the pre-wedding gift he gave me the other day. Dog tags he had made, specifically designed to hang on Jason’s tree, as we both now call it.

  A year ago, my heart was still shattered over a loss from which I thought I’d never recover. In a few days, I’ll be married again, to a man who pulled me from the depths of my grief and made me whole again, and it all started with a touch, a laugh, and fireworks.

  *** The End ***

  A NOTE FROM SAVANNAH

  You may have noticed as you read this story that there are few if any physical descriptions of people. I did this purposely so that you, as the reader, would be free to indulge your own imagination and see the characters as you would see them. I hope this added to your enjoyment and welcome you back for more.

  Thank you for reading!

  If you enjoyed Something About Fireworks, please read on for an excerpt from Stay, book 1 of the Troubled Hearts series, and checkout more of Savannah’s stories, all available on Amazon.

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nbsp; Chapter 1 from Stay (Troubled Hearts Book 1)

  Asher pulled on Bandit’s reins and the Palomino mare came to a gradual halt. She whinnied softly as he rubbed her neck. “Just another stop, old girl. You know the drill.”

  Bandit and he took one of the many horse and hiking trails at least once a week on their own, ensuring a clear path for the young campers to trek during the summer. Maintaining the trails throughout the year prevented heavy overgrowth from overtaking the paths and ultimately meant less work. Besides, he enjoyed riding and this offered him the perfect excuse. It also gave him time to think and helped him to appreciate what he had while taking his mind off what he didn’t.

  A year ago, the guy Ash thought he would marry someday decided to leave. It took him months to get past the crushing blow to his heart. Though the pain had numbed, he still missed Lucas and wasn’t sure he’d ever be completely over him. Growing up, and even throughout college, it was rare for Ash not to have a boyfriend. Every break-up he’d been through had hit him hard. When Ash thought he’d finally found the guy he was looking for in Lucas, he thought those terrible weeks spent licking his wounds and moving on were over. But after two years together, Lucas took a job across the country and left Ash behind to recover from yet another broken heart. Those first few months were the hardest in his entire life.

  Months after, Ash made the decision to just let things be and not go looking for a new relationship. He believed with all his heart that when the time was right, the guy he was waiting to spend the rest of his life with would one day fall into his life. Until then, as hard as it was for him to simply wait, he convinced himself he was content in being alone.

  A rustling behind him drew his attention, relieving Ash of his past heartaches and not-so-happy memories. He looked back over his shoulder and caught two squirrels scurrying up a nearby pine tree. Bandit shifted on her feet and whinnied again, reminding him of the time.

  He and Bandit had taken to this particular trail just before sun-up. The camp counselors would be arriving later this morning and Ash wanted to make sure he returned in time. He, his parents, and the permanent staff had a little more than one week to prep them before the tweens and teens descended on Spirit Lake—a camp for kids during the summer months and a cozy, peaceful bed and breakfast and private ranch the rest of the year.

  Dismounting, Ash walked to the edge of the trail, worn from about fifty years of routine trail rides, and gazed across the valley not too far below. The narrow lake in the center glistened orange and yellow as the early morning rays peeked over the eastern range. He took in a cleansing breath, enjoying the woodsy, pine scent. A light breeze blew across the back of his neck, cooling his skin. He lifted his hat from his head to let the wind ruffle through his hair.

  This was Ash’s favorite place to come when he wanted to be alone. Today was one of those days. Not only because it was the one year anniversary of his break-up, which he was really trying not to think about, but also because today was the first day of their summer season and it would be a solid three months before things around here were this peaceful again.

  This particular spot was the highest point in all nine thousand acres Ash’s parents owned. All but fifty of which remained dedicated to the camp and lodge his grandparents started back in 1967. Tucked away in the White Mountains of eastern Arizona, it was originally a summer camp for disabled kids because back in those days, that kind of thing just didn’t exist. The idea was born shortly after their oldest child—Ash’s uncle—broke his back when he fell out of a tree and ended up bound to a wheelchair, paralyzed from the waist down. Since the seventies, all kids were welcome, but they still dedicated two weeks of the season to only those with disabilities.

  After a brief respite, Ash mounted Bandit and they made their way back down the trail. By the time they arrived back in the paddock, some of the regular staff that worked the camp all year long were already greeting the first arrivals. Ash relieved the mare of the saddle and set her loose in the paddock. He climbed over the wood pole fence and leaned back against it.

  Most of the counselors were high school juniors and seniors volunteering in order to get their community service credit for graduation. The rest of the counselors were paid and brought with them a variety of skills and experience, often dedicating themselves to one or two activities they were particularly passionate about. Many of them were teachers and retirees who joined them each summer, and Ash recognized a few repeats.

  Cars and trucks lined the gravel, u-shaped driveway as parents dropped off their sons and daughters and said their goodbyes. Off to one side, the dirt lot slowly filled with vehicles. Senior staff members helped unload and direct the new arrivals while Ash stood back and watched. He didn’t often engage in the whole meet-and-greet or the specific operations of the camp. Until ownership passed to him, the horses and stables were his primary responsibility, though he did act in the capacity of general owner and manager if the situation called for it.

  As Ash stood there, watching the ebb and flow, a young man walking along the edge of the gravel drive caught his eye. From a distance, the man looked disheveled and dirty, almost like a transient, with his worn jeans, scuffed and dirty military boots, and a dark green, sweat-stained t-shirt covering his broad chest and shoulders. His scraggly brown hair fell just below his ears.

  The man walked with confidence, which seemed contradictory to his outward appearance. The closer he got, the more Ash took in every detail of the guy. His gold-rimmed, aviator-style sunglasses. The authentic, brown Stetson on his head. The ink on his bicep, half hidden by the sleeve. The hard lines of his jaw, covered in several days of stubble. Everything about the young stranger intrigued him, and he had to admit, turned him on.

  As he neared, Ash pushed off the fence and moved to intercept him. “Hi. Can I help you?” Ash asked, plastering a friendly smile on his face.

  The stranger stopped a few feet in front of him, his expression unreadable, especially with his eyes hidden behind his dark lenses. He stood a few inches taller, with well-defined muscles gained from hard labor, but not too bulky. Perfect in Ash’s eyes.

  “Yes, actually. I’m looking for Mr. or Mrs. Collins. I was told they own and run this place.”

  “That they do,” Ash answered, still sizing up the guy. “May I ask the reason for your visit?”

  The man removed his sunglasses and nudged his hat up an inch with his index finger, revealing gorgeous, amber eyes. It took everything Ash had not to bite his lip to stifle the gasp that threatened.

  “Well, sir, my name’s Blake Stevens,” he said, his voice deep with a twinge of an accent Ash couldn’t quite place. Somewhere from the south. Texas maybe. “I was passing through town and heard that sometimes they hire extra help this time of year. Thought I’d swing by and see if maybe they’d considering hiring me on for the summer.”

  Ash pulled his brows together and cocked his head slightly to one side. “You do realize this is a summer camp for kids between the ages of eight and fifteen, right?”

  Blake shrugged his shoulders and gifted Ash with a brilliant, slightly crooked smile. “Kids don’t bother me none.”

  Ash wasn’t about to redirect this guy. His heart was already doing flip-flops over those soulful eyes and beautiful smile. This was one of those instances where he would gladly put on his owner slash manager hat because it would mean getting to know a little more about the handsome stranger standing not more than three feet in front of him. He pulled off his sunglasses and heard a swift intake of air from Blake. Or maybe he imagined it.

  “Well, we’ve got a full staff this year, but Mrs. Collins never was one to turn down someone looking to put in an honest day’s work. That being said, we do have a lot of kids here during the summer and their safety is our number one concern above anything else. So, consider this your job interview and you have once chance to get it right.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ash arched his brow. That’s the second time he’d called him that. “How old ar
e you?”

  “Twenty-three, sir.”

  “You drink much?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Where you from?”

  “Small town outside Austin, Texas, born and raised.”

  “The ink on your arm. May I see it?”

  Blake dropped his backpack on the ground and pushed his sleeve up, revealing the Marine Corps emblem bisected by a tan line on his bulging bicep. Not exactly what Ash was expecting, but he supposed it might explain why he kept calling him sir.

  “You serve?”

  “Four years.”

  “Why’d you leave?”

  Blake’s eyes darkened. Ash thought he caught a flicker of pain before Blake tilted his head down and to the side a little and looked toward the ground, pressing his lips together. He hesitated and Ash watched him suck in a deep breath and release it. After a few seconds, Blake met his gaze again. The pain was gone, hidden behind an impassive gaze. “It was no longer the place for me.”

  Ash didn’t press further. By the somberness of his tone and the way he looked away, he knew whatever his reason, it centered deep inside him. He was almost certain Blake had lost someone.

  Ash repositioned the hat on his head and redirected the conversation. “How long you been out now?”

  “Eight months.”

  “Driftin’?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Why not go back home?”

  “Honestly?”

  “You answer honestly, you got yourself a job with room and board for the next three months.”

  Blake straightened and looked around, perhaps checking for someone who might hear. Seemingly satisfied with what he found, he stepped a little closer and dropped his voice down.

  “When I was eighteen, my dad walked in on me kissing another guy. He threw me out and told me never to come back until I got myself straightened out, no pun intended.” He huffed a small laugh, but it was sad. “Needless to say, that wasn’t ever going to happen. I spent a few weeks on the streets and finally enlisted in the Marines. It seemed a reasonable thing to do with my life at the time, especially since I had nothing.