rformance. Once he left Wishful, nothing would get her on stage again, so it was important she give it her all.
So Tyler let the walls drop for the last time, and the old magic ignited.
She danced. She sang. And she fell in love with Phil Davis while they schemed to matchmake Bob and Betty and rescue a retired general from obscurity. Brody glowed, owning the stage. Every smile, every glance seemed to be for her alone, despite the full house. It was their best performance ever. She didn’t need Nate’s delighted soft shoe at the transition to the final act to tell her that. Every touch of Brody’s hand set off a spark in her blood.
When the final song began to play and he grabbed her for a kiss behind the center stage Christmas tree, she wasn’t Judy Haynes and he wasn’t Phil Davis. The arms that came around her held on, the lips that met hers tasted of the same pent up longing and need that had been torturing her for weeks. God, God, she’d missed him so much. She wanted to find a dark corner and drown in him. Myles’ boot kicking Brody’s leg was the only thing that kept them from missing their cue.
As “I’ve Got My Love To Keep Me Warm” spun out and the curtain calls began, Tyler struggled to rein in her emotions. The row of castmates in front filed out of the way, and Brody took her hand, leading her in a complicated dance that had the crowd hooting and cheering with approval. She couldn’t hold back the joy or the pain as he spun her away for her bow. The audience’s applause washed over her, making her feel at once soothed and triumphant. She’d done it. Whatever else could be said, she’d given this performance her all.
Straightening, Tyler turned back to take Brody’s hand.
And found him down on one knee.
Everything inside her came to a jarring halt, and she almost stumbled. All the blood drained from her face, yet her cheeks felt almost scalding as she covered them with her hands. Beyond the stage, the cheers of the audience quieted into whispers. A sense of anticipation filled the air.
Brody’s thumb brushed over the edge of a small box. “I’ve carried this around with me for a long time. It’s been to the top of the Eiffel Tower and all across the country. But it was always meant to be here. Because this place, this stage, is central to what we are to each other.”
This isn’t happening, Tyler thought dully.
And yet the orchestra was changing its tune. Brody angled his head, a quizzical expression on his face until he recognized the music. Then he smiled.
It took a few more bars before Tyler’s ears processed the melody. “All I Ask Of You.”
“Oh, God,” she whispered.
“I’ve known you most of my life,” Brody continued. “You were the cute little blonde girl with pigtails, who spent her time building forts out of tree limbs during recess instead of playing kiss-chase like the other girls. The amazingly fast track star, who took the high school by storm. But it wasn’t until I stood on this stage with you for Oklahoma! callbacks and heard you sing that I really looked at you. You took my breath away. I fell in love with you when I played Curly. And I did it all over again, every single time we sang, every time we danced.
“When I screwed things up, it was this theater that brought you back into my life. This show that gave me the chance to earn you back and show you that I never stopped loving you. And I screwed it up again. But I’m taking a leap here and hoping this will show you, in no uncertain terms, that I love you. Because you are my perfect match, in every way. So I’m asking you, Tyler Anne Edison, in front of our friends and cast members and this entire audience, to marry me and be the leading lady of my life.” He flipped open the box, and the diamond inside flashed in the stage lights.
Tyler pressed a hand to her mouth, blinking against the tears. He was offering her everything she wanted…and yet.
“What about Portland?” she said, helplessly.
“It’s temporary. I’m coming back home to Wishful. To you. If you’ll have me.”
I’m coming home.
No three words had ever sounded so wonderful. Tyler loosed a shuddering breath. “Thank God.”
Brody’s lips twitched. “You have to say it,” he said. “I want witnesses.”
She laughed and pitched her voice so all could hear. “Yes, Brody Theodore Jensen, I will marry you.”
“Then let’s make it official.” He pulled the ring out of the box and slid it on her finger. “I love you, Tyler.”
Tyler framed his face in her hands. “I love you, Brody.” Then she fisted a hand in his Santa jacket and jerked him to his feet, fusing her mouth to his while the crowd went wild.
~*~
Breathless, Brody staggered off the dance floor and accepted a fresh glass of champagne. The cast party turned engagement party at Speakeasy was in full swing, and he was pretty sure it was just as packed as karaoke night had been.
“Thank God tomorrow’s performance isn’t until seven.”
“Amen,” agreed Tucker, lifting his pilsner in a toast. “To friends, love, and gullibility.”
Tyler lifted a brow. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
“That I can finally take this off,” said Tucker. He bent over and unfastened the velcro holding on his walking cast. “Thank God. This thing is so hot and itchy. I can’t imagine what it’s like for people who really did break their leg.” He stepped out of the boot and toed off his remaining shoe, doing a happy little bounce and tap routine in his sock feet.