Page 74 of Homesick
I’ve known I want to marry Blake Fisher since I was eight years old, but I am not in any hurry. I have the rest of my life to love him, and that’s all that matters right now.
“I want to get married, but I want to wait. Not that long,” I specify. “Just until we get our feet off the ground.”
Blake squeezes me tighter, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Whenever he holds me, the rest of the world melts away. I feel at home in his arms.
“If I knew you wanted me to propose, I would do it tomorrow, Campbell. Just let me know when you’re ready, and we’ll make it happen.”
I peel my head away from his chest and tip my head up. Blake leans in and gently presses his lips to mine. We stay like that for a moment.
The kiss isn’t desperate or needy. It’s just the warmth and comfort of knowing I’m right where I belong.
When Blake finally pulls back from the kiss, I remember the present sitting on the table. “What’s the special occasion?” I question, motioning towards the piece of wood on the table.
“Chris was having new stalls put in, and I hated the idea of not seeing those initials together. I thought we could put it on the mantel over there,” he suggests, pointing to the tiny fireplace in our new apartment.
“I love it,” I declare. “And I love you.”
“I love you too, Campbell.”
As Blake leans in for another kiss, I think about our future together. I think about a little while down the road when we plant our own roots in Honey Grove. Most importantly, I think about the feeling of not being homesick anymore.
“Well, let’s get your new office painted,” Blake says, pulling away from our embrace.
My body cries out at the loss of contact, so I grab one of his belt loops and tug him closer.
“I think it can wait just a little bit longer,” I say before leaning in for another kiss. This time, the kiss is a little more desperate, and I welcome the excitement pooling at the base of my stomach. I will never get tired of that feeling.
Home is where the heart is, and my heart belongs to Blake Fisher.
