Us for Life - Feltson

Chapter 5

Tom sat on the bench overlooking the Pacific Ocean, Emma facing him, leaning against his chest, letting him kiss her. Their first kiss had been a dare. Their second was a mistake. Their third,  the night before, had confirmed their abiding attraction to each other. The fourth, soft and chaste in his kitchen this morning, had been their agreement to try this on. This fifth one was full of feeling, emotional, an exploration of whether there was enough between them to support what they wanted to build.

Tom's hand moved up her back, beneath her hair, holding her head, bringing her into him as he opened to her. One of her hands stayed on his face and the other reached for his hand, bringing it between them and pressing it low on her stomach, as if there was a tiny someone between them already, though there wasn't. She held him there, his hand covered by hers, as she pulled her face away to look at him.

"Right," he said, clearing the huskiness out of his voice. "When you're facing me like this, you can't see the view -- this life changing view I promised to show you."

She smiled. "I think your view might have already had the intended effect on me."

Tom's head tipped back as he pulled in a huge breath. "Not quite. Look, it's the ocean, the sky, infinity, everything. Take a bit more time with it."

Her face was falling, as if she he had put her off. She was taking on a sadness he stopped when he traced her chin with one finger. "Come on, turn around now," he said, shifting her to sit beside him, keeping her close with his arm across her shoulders. "There's a good girl."

She moved but left her legs draped over his lap, and clasped her arms around his waist, her face in his shoulder, breathing him into her head.

"Now, look out at the sea and listen carefully to me while I reframe today's -- discussion," he said, his arm holding her legs just below her knees.

"Reframe," she repeated. "What do you mean by that?"

He took another immense breath.

She looked away from his shoulder. "Are you quite alright, Tom?"

"Yes, I'm good. Not in danger of hyperventilating at all," he said, laughing weakly at himself and letting his breath out, hoping she didn't hear the slight trembling in it. "Now listen to me, Emma Charlotte Dewberry Potpourri Watson -- "

She giggled and patted his cheek, embracing the teasing, so familiar, so him.

"I want you to have everything you've ever desired. A whole row of unfathomably adorable ducklings following after you everywhere you go. But I never want the little darlings to question where they came from, or why." He was nearly gasping for another breath. "And that is one of the reasons why, as we sit here, I am asking you to marry me."

Emma sat back, her mouth partly open, eyes searching his face, "You're -- but, you don't -- I haven't -- "

He was speaking again, interrupting her stammering as if he was powerless not to finish. "I know it looks impulsive -- like an overly traditional panic reaction to the thought of making a baby but -- " He managed to look her directly in the eye. "It is spur of the moment, I'll grant you that. Obviously I've got nothing organized and it's a Spartan proposal and you deserve better, of course. I've got no jewelry to give you, and we're sitting less than 100 metres from bin full of your breakfast. But that doesn't mean this hasn't been a long time coming. Being here, in one of the prettiest spots I know, with the loveliest person I know, after literally decades of having feelings for you, and regrets about you, and -- and loving you -- "

"Tom -- "

"That's the other reason I'm asking, Em. I've been in love with you so long. I've no idea how to stop. I don't even want to. There isn't anyone who doesn't know how I feel when it comes to this. Except for maybe you." He let go of her legs to take her hand. "So please know it, Emma."