Stolen Course (Wrecked and Ruined #2)

“I’ve been seeing Emma Jane Erickson for months now, and last weekend, I finally grew a pair of balls and I told her I love her.” I let out a loud sigh. “Jesus Christ, I was scared to death at first, Manda. This whole thing with Emma has been a whirlwind. It’s been fast, but it’s the realest thing I have felt since I met you. I know she’s Sarah’s sister, but no matter how fucked up it is for me to be with her, I couldn’t stop myself from falling in love with her. I even feel like you may have had a little something to do with that—which is why I’m here today.

“I loved you, angel, but this thing with Emma is something completely different. I don’t know where it’s going for sure, but I know where I want it to go eventually. So I hope you understand that I need to leave this with you.” I spin the black box around in my hand. “I don’t feel right about carrying it around with me anymore. It’s time. Jesse has told me repeatedly that I should leave it here, but I just couldn’t let go.” My voice chokes in my throat at the admission. “It’s just that we never talked. I never knew your reasons, but I hope you know there is nothing you could have said that would have changed my mind. Nothing.

“You were right. We didn’t need a piece of paper or this”—I hold up the box—“to bind us together. You were my wife the first time you said yes. We both knew it in our hearts.”

My head falls into my hands as a single tear rolls down my face.

“I’ll still visit. You can’t get rid of me that easily. But that belongs to you now. It always did.”





“IT’S A super small detour,” I say, turning down a side street.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see soon enough.”

“Caleb!” she screeches in frustration.

“Manda!” I yell back, squeezing her leg with a teasing smile on my face.

“We’re going to be late. You know Brett gets pissy because we are always late.”

“He’ll get over it. He always does.” I brush off her excuse as I pull up in front of Hip Huggers—the club we met at almost exactly three years earlier.

“Um…you may have to wait until later if you are planning to get your dance on,” she says, running her hand through her hair, flipping the red curls out of her face.

“I don’t want to dance, but this will only take a second.” I jump out of the car then open her door, dragging her out to join me.

“What are you doing?”

“Just come on.”

I lead her to the front door of the club. After I knock twice, the door finally opens. I nod to the bald bouncer named Mick. I’ve known him forever, and thankfully listening to his stupid hunting stories has finally paid off.

“Hey, Mick!” Manda calls over her shoulder as I drag her down the short hallway and into the bar area.

Just as Mick showed me last night, I walk to the DJ booth and press the flashing red light. With the press of one button, Daniel Bedingfield’s If You’re Not The One blares over the sound system.

“What are you doing?” she asks, stepping away from me as the white lights begin dancing around the floor.

“What I should have done months ago. I’m re-proposing.”

“You’re repro-whating?”

“We only have ten minutes, but I’m not leaving until you agree to be my wife.” I intertwine our fingers and tug, forcing her to collide with my body.

“I already did that.”

“No, you said yes, but based on the last six months, we both know you have no intentions of actually marrying me.”

“That is not true.” She pulls away, suddenly aware of where this conversation is going.

“Oh, it’s very true, beautiful. However, that all ends tonight.”

She shakes her head and turns to walk away. She always gets so pissed when we talk about this. “I’m not having this conversation again, Caleb.”

“I believe we are, because it’s obvious we have conflicting ideas about how it’s going to end.”

False confidence rolls off me. I’ve been having this argument with Manda for a while now. She never budges, but I’m not letting it go tonight. I want answers, and I want her to give them to me. I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out a velvet black box containing a wedding band covered in diamonds.

“Manda, I met you here three years ago, and that night was the most amazing night of my life. I walked into this stupid club looking for a girl, but what I found was the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. Funny how one night can change everything, huh? I’m not going to play this game with you anymore. I love you. Marry Me.”

“I’ve already said yes!” She begins to chew on her top lip and pace a circle around me.

“No, I’m asking you to actually commit to marrying me this time. Don’t just say it—do it.”

“I said yes, damn it!” she shouts again, continuing her nervous pattern.

“Manda, stop. What the hell are you doing? We share a house and a bed. The only thing we don’t share is a last name.”

“Why is this so fucking important to you? Can you just give me a little space? I love you. Forever. Is that not enough for you?”