Everyone ignored him.
Anna’s gaze lingered on Gavin just as much as Mom’s did. Griffin, either oblivious or indifferent, didn’t notice. Then again, he was still trying to puzzle out who Gavin was. A pleasant smile on her lips, Anna asked, “So, Gavin, is your wife here as well?”
Gavin looked down at his children sitting on the floor finishing out a board game. “No, I’m not . . . I’m not married.” He looked back to Anna, a sad smile on his lips. “Widower . . . since Riley was two.” Hailey glanced up at her dad, her expression equally glum.
Anna’s small smile fell. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
There was a moment of silence as everyone reflected on Gavin’s statement. Griffin broke it by walking over to Kellan and whispering, “Dude, seriously, who are these people?”
Chuckling, Kellan socked Griffin in the shoulder. “Come on, I’ll get you a beer and draw you a diagram.” Laughter eased the tension in the room as Kellan led his bassist into the kitchen to tell him the truth about his origins. Griffin would be the first band member to officially know that Kellan’s deceased father wasn’t actually his father. Hopefully the imbecile could grasp the concept.
By the time everyone parted ways, it was late into the night, nearly morning. Anna and Griffin headed off to her apartment to make the most of their limited time together. Gavin and his children went back to their hotel; they had a flight in the morning. My parents shuffled off to the guest room to spend yet another night on my old, lumpy futon. Dad sighed when Kellan and I waved good night from the doorway of our bedroom.
Reluctant to waste what little time we had left together sleeping, Kellan and I stayed up the remainder of the night. Still dressed, we cuddled together in bed and talked until the gray, early morning light filtered through the window. Kellan stroked my hair as I rested my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and his soothing voice. The comfort I felt in his arms was palpable. His embrace cocooned me in a warmth that would hold back the deadliest ice storm, I was sure.
Wishing he didn’t have to leave me in a few hours, I clenched his shirt and hugged him tight. He stopped speaking and kissed my hair. After a moment of silence, he whispered, “Kiera?”
I peeked up at his face. His eyes were dark in the faded light, but glowed with happiness. A small smile curving his lips, he asked, “Will you marry me?”
My heart raced against my ribcage as I sat up on my elbows. “What?”
His smile widened. “Will you marry me?”
I glanced at the ring on my left hand, then the ring on his. “Didn’t we already get married?”
Kellan’s chest under my arms rumbled as his amusement bubbled up in a deep laugh. “Yes, but I just realized that I never actually proposed to you.” Sighing, he brought his finger up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. When he was finished, he stroked my cheek. “And you deserve a proper proposal.”
After he said that, his face shifted into an expression of contemplation. Before I could answer his question, he gently pushed my body away from him. I tried to pull him back, to eagerly tell him yes, but he slid out from under me and stood up. Walking around to the other side of the bed, he stared at me for several long seconds. Just as I was about to ask him what he was doing, he let out a slow, controlled breath, and slowly sank to one knee.
I’m not sure why, but just watching him move to the floor made a sob rise up my throat. My vision hazed and I swiped my fingers under my eyes to clear away the tears. I wanted to see every part of this.
His eyes glossy in the dim light, Kellan stared up at me. “Kiera Michelle Allen, will you do me the absolute honor of being my wife? Will you marry me?”
I was nodding long before he finished speaking. Reaching down, I grabbed his face. “Yes, of course, yes.” I kissed him over and over as I pulled him back into my arms.
His body settled over mine and we kissed, laughed, and even cried a little, until the faded morning light turned into brightly streaming rays of sunshine. I heard my father exiting the spare bedroom that had once been the room I’d shared with Denny. Kellan and I paused in kissing each other to stare at our closed bedroom door.
Dad took an inordinately long time about it, but he eventually shuffled downstairs to make some coffee. An ecstatic grin on his face, Kellan looked back at me. Lacing our fingers together, he whispered, “Why do I feel like I should be hiding in the closet?”