State of Grace (26 page)

Grace had stopped breathing the minute Sean had gotten on one knee. She soaked up every word, and it didn’t even register when her father growled when Sean said jail-bait. Her eyes welled up. 

“You’re making me cry now,” she whispered.

He looked up at her earnestly. “If I could drown in your eyes, I would die happy.  Every minute you’re not with me feels like an eternity, and every second we’re together feels like time’s passing too quickly. You’re my brilliant, beautiful, feisty brat. I know I drive you up the wall, but baby, our life together will never be boring.” She giggled through her tears, and he pulled out the oblong, velvet box that had been itching his fingers all night. 

It was unusually shaped for a jewelry box, but when he flipped it open, she saw why. Carefully, he extracted the glittery, bubble-gum pink die cast convertible car. A gleaming diamond solitaire had been inserted into the tiny space before the back seat.  She gave him a watery smile. For all his tough guy and devil-may-care attitude, Sean Holden was a sentimental mush.

“Gracie, will you do me the eternal honor of becoming Grace Maxine Holden?”

The color leeched out of his face as he waited what felt like endless seconds for her answer. He’d been positive she was going to say yes, but he’d been wrong about shit before. If she said no, he’d have to wear her down. He’d ask her every day if he had to.  Didn’t matter that he’d just made a fool of himself in front of both their families.

He was so focused on his contingency plan that when she spoke, he had to ask her to repeat herself. He wasn’t a hundred percent clear on what she’d said, but ‘yes’ wasn’t one of the words.

“Come again?” he frowned.

“Sinclair-Holden. I’m going to hyphenate my last name,” she said in a shaky voice.

“’Atta girl,” her father muttered in the background.

The blood rush made him heady. He shoved his ring on her finger quickly, before she could change her mind. 

Not that he would let her.

Laughter sounded from throughout the room, and she shook her head at him.  “What?”

“You put it on the wrong hand, moron,” Lucas hooted. 

“Oops. Sorry, baby.” He didn’t even feel embarrassed. She’d agreed to be his. He felt like the king of the world. He wanted to stand on the bow of a ship like Leonardo DiCaprio and scream it to the world, for everyone to hear. 

Grinning like a fool, he fixed his mistake before he stood up. Their parents were moving towards them. He needed to kiss her now though. He was glad he’d popped the question around their families, but he desperately wished they were alone right now. He kissed her chastely (her father was still around), before she broke away. 

“I’m glad you asked me now,” she murmured against his lips. “In another month or two, I was going to ask you myself.”

He chuckled against her mouth. She was as impatient as he was. 

“Can we get married soon?”

He would fucking love that. The sooner they made it official, the happier he’d be, but he wasn’t sure it would sit well with her in the long run. He remembered seeing her play with a bridal Barbie or two, decked out in poufy white dresses. She’d even had a Ken doll dressed as a priest, complete with a collar. There was no way she hadn’t dreamt of a big, white wedding. 

He looked at her indulgently. “Baby, I’m happy either way we go. But don’t you want a big wedding, the dress and cake, the works? Doesn’t that time to plan and book everything?”

“Yes, it does, young man,” her mother piped up. “Grace, you are not getting married in a ramshackle wedding. We can use the same planner that Lucas and Sophie did.”

“Of course, I want all that. But I want to get married sooner than later,” she insisted. 

“What’s the rush?” her mother complained.

“Because I don’t want to wear a maternity wedding dress,” she blurted out. 

Everyone stopped talking, and she slapped her hand over her mouth in dismay.  “That wasn’t how I wanted to tell you,” she whispered to Sean.

He was paralyzed for a few moments. The kind of paralysis like when a deer freezes in the headlights or when a fainting goat falls down.

He stared at her dumbly while she worried her lip between her teeth.

But then joy, blinding and bright burst through him. They’d made a baby together.  He was going to be a father. “We’re having a baby?” he asked lowly.

She nodded uncertainly, and he let out a whoop. He cupped her beautiful face—a face he would never tire of, between both hands and kissed her until she was flushed and breathless. Pressing his forehead against hers, he thanked the universe once more, and murmured his love for her. 

“One thing, Holden. I give you my blessing and ask you not to do
one thing
,” Max Sinclair bellowed. 

Oh shit.

Momentary panic coursed through him before he shrugged. At least they were already in a hospital. He turned to face the wrath of his future father-in-law … 

“
Daddy
!”

Acknowledgements

Thanks to my wonderful parents who always told me I could achieve anything I wanted. I’ll always be your Bird.

Candy Chew, I love you for always letting me be burst into your room to vent when I was blocked. Thanks for always pushing me (and allowing me to vent about other stuff too).

Cathy Z., I could never thank you enough for all of your help and feedback as I went through the creative process—while you were pregnant and even after you delivered that seriously adorable baby. 

S & J –I love sharing my stories and ideas with you both, and I don’t think you realize exactly how uplifting you both are to me. Thank you for gifting me with endless encouragement and unwavering support. 

About the Author

Delia Foster is a pen name for a hopeless romantic who fell in love with love after discovering her mother's old Harlequin novels in the garage--at the tender age of twelve.  A Texas transplant, she now works and lives in the Big Apple with her BFF and a seriously cute Morkie.  Her hobbies include writing, reading, copious amounts of wine, imagining she is Henry Cavill’s wife (or plaything, she’s not picky about status) and a serious addiction to handbags (it's bad). She still loves love even though she is single and seems to have encountered every dating disaster there is to be had. 

She's saving those stories for her next venture into the horror genre.  

PS.  Delia would really like to hear your feedback – you can reach her in any of the following ways:
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Gmail:  [email protected]