Home > Falling Away (Falling #4)(67)

Falling Away (Falling #4)(67)
Author: Jasinda Wilder

Echo takes in my clothing, my shirt, and her brows draw down in thought. “Ben? Does that shirt mean what I think it means?”

She knew I was hoping, and she knew I was waiting for the interview, but she doesn’t know I got the interview or the position. Or rather, she didn’t know, until now.

I nod. “Yeah, baby. You’re looking at the youngest coach in NFL history. Assistant offensive line coach.”

She squeals in joy, bounces on her toes, and then leaps into my arms. “BEN! I’m so so proud of you! When did you find out?”

“This morning.” I let her down onto her feet, and my hands end up cupping her backside. “I had the interview two weeks ago, but I didn’t tell you. I wanted to wait until I knew for sure.”

She grins up at me and clings to my waist. “That is so cool. You look sexy in coaching gear. Will you get to wear one of those headsets?”

I laugh. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Yummy. My man is an NFL coach.” She kisses my throat, my chin, and then my lips. “So what’s with all the candles?”

I let her continue kissing me as I answer. “I told you I was traditional, right? Well, I’ve been waiting to do this until I had a job to support us. Now I do.”

She breaks away and her brown eyes go apprehensive, hopeful. “Do what, Benji?”

I dig the ring box from my pocket, and open it as I go to one knee. “Echo Leveaux, I love you more than I can even say.” I have to swallow past emotion and hunt for the words. “I tried scripting this out, but nothing sounded right. All I know is I love you, and I want to be with you forever. Be my present, and my future, Echo. Will you marry me?”

She lunges at me, sobbing in joy, and we both topple backward to the cement. I cradle her weight on my chest and keep a good hold on the black velvet box. Lying on me, crying, laughing, Echo takes the ring from the box and slides it onto the ring finger of her left hand, and then dips to slant her mouth over mine.

“Yes,” she whispers through the kiss, through joyful sobs and laughter, and I taste salt on her lips. “When can we get married?”

I laugh. “Eager much?”

She nods, her face in my neck. “As soon as we can, please?”

I caress her cheek. “Echo, baby, we can do it however you want. I think our family and friends would probably like be there, though, right?”

She shrugs. “Yeah, probably.”

“And my mom would like to help you pick out a dress.” I say this quietly.

“She would?”

I tilt her face to look at me. “Echo…yes, she would. My mom loves you, and so does my dad. They’ve been waiting for me to do this almost as impatiently as me.”

“I’ve been ready for a year and a half, Benji.” She gazes down at me.

“Well, like I said, I wanted it to be the right time.”

She kisses me again, and then slides off me and gets to her feet. “Come on, let’s go home. I want to celebrate.”

“And how will we do that?” I ask.

She hikes the hem of her dress up around her waist, revealing that she’s not wearing any panties. “Why, naked in our bed, of course.” She wiggles her ass at me and then runs, and I chase after her.

She lets me catch her, and we almost don’t make it back to the apartment.

EPILOGUE

Echo

Six months later

Who knew planning a wedding could be so much work? Jeez.

Well, everyone, I guess, except me. I just assumed that because I had no family to invite that it would be easier. Turns out, it’s not. We invite everyone we know, everyone from the band and their plus one if they have one, my grandparents, Oz and Kylie, the Harris Mountain Boys—Buddy Helms, Amy Irons, and Gareth Fink, who have become good friends to Ben and me and to the band—as well as Ben’s family and the Calloways, Echo the Stars’ producers and label owners. That’s about it.

And today is the day. I’m nervous, but in an excited sort of way. I’m ready, so ready.

The wedding is going to be amazing. We booked a church and flew Father Mike up here from San Antonio to peform the ceremony for us, with the reception at a hall not far away. It’s so perfect. The Calloways and the Dorseys have paid for the entire thing. I argued at first, of course. I mean, Nell and Colt are incredible, but why would they pay for my wedding? I’m just some girl on their label. But then Ben reminded me that Colt and Nell are like second parents to him, that Colt was the one that helped him get his head out of his ass and suggested he leave Nashville for a while, to get some space and time from everything. And once I realized that, I realized that Colt and Nell aren’t just great producers and amazing tour-mates, but they’re genuinely incredible people. They’re warm, and generous, and they’re invested in me. Nell and Becca—Ben’s mom—helped me pick out my dress, and they took me and Mim out for a spa day as my bachelorette party.

I grew up with no one but Mom and my grandparents around, never had a lot of friends. And now, suddenly, I’m surrounded by people who seem determined to love me despite myself. Becca and Jason…god, those two have welcomed me into their family as if I’ve always been a part of it. Becca and I meet for coffee every week, and I just love that woman to pieces.

And the band, they’re always there, loving me, investing in me, reminding me that I’m not alone. They keep me accountable when it comes to drinking. I realized pretty early on in the process of recovering from my epic fuckup that the only way to make sure that kind of thing never happens again is to just stay sober full time. It sucks, especially when Bray and the gang want to go out and party after a show. They try to include me, but it’s just too hard to be around it and not take part. I would always try to convince myself that I’d be fine, that it was only ever a problem when I had problems. It was Becca who reminded me, over early morning coffee at her kitchen table, that life would always have problems, and that nothing was ever easy and never would be. So I stay sober.

And now, here I am, standing in front of a mirror in a room off the chapel, Becca dabbing under my eyes with a napkin, Nell fussing with my train, Brayden hovering at my side, tall and beautiful in his tux, my man of honor. Kylie is here too, watching with tears in her own eyes. She and I have an odd relationship. It was tense and strained at first, but then we sat down and aired out all the awkwardness, talked it through, and we’ve become friends. She’s Ben’s best man, or, as we’ve joked, his best maid.

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