Peyton grins. “I’ve already said yes, a few times. You don’t have to keep asking me again. I’m not going to change my mind.”
I inch closer and rest my hand on her hip. “I wasn’t finished with my question. Peyton, will you marry me on Christmas Day in front of our friends and family in the same church where my parents were married?” I leave out the part where we mourned her father so many years ago.
“Noah?”
“It’s a Tuesday, Peyton. I know this is what you want. A Christmas wedding. I see your face light up each time you’re looking through your winter section. And as it turns out, we’ll have a bye the following weekend so we can go away for a few days. Our honeymoon won’t be much, but we’ll be together. The only thing that I don’t know, that I can’t tell you about is your schedule and what you will do. But with Christmas being a Tuesday, surely you’d be off.”
“Are you sure, Noah? Your teammates, they’ll talk. My future employer…”
“Without a doubt, Peyton. I just want to marry you and if you want a Christmas wedding, we’ll make it happen.”
Peyton launches herself forward and presses her lips to mine. “I love you so much,” she says against my lips. “You have no idea.”
“I think I do,” I tell her as I pull her tight to my body. As much as I want to make love to her, we can’t. I won’t disrespect her parents in their home. Instead, we make ou
t like teenagers, pausing only to talk about wedding plans.
“I have to make a decision about a job.”
“Or you don’t,” I tell her. “No one will fault you for taking more time for yourself, or even taking time to plan your wedding.”
Peyton runs her fingers through my hair. “The offer from the Rams is really nice, but the distance—”
“We’d make it work if it’s what you wanted.”
She lays her head down on my chest and drags her fingers lazily over my skin. I hold her tight, wishing I could make things easy for us. It’s like we’ve been dealt one blow after another and we haven’t even started our lives together as husband and wife yet.
The loud shrill of my phone ringing rouses me from sleep. I reach for it and realize that Peyton’s no longer in bed. “Hello?”
“Did I wake you?” Bud Walter’s booming voice echoes through the receiver.
“No… sort of. What’s up?” I ask my coach.
“Be here in an hour, we need to talk.”
“I’m in California. I can meet tomorrow,” I tell him, sitting up and rubbing the sleepiness away from my face. I’m exhausted and wonder what time it is. Peyton and I were up all night talking about the wedding. Things were going well until I suggested Santa Claus marry us and that we have elves for ushers.
“Westbury, I can’t stress enough how important it is that you get here, now.”
“What’s going on, Coach?”
He sighs. It’s loud and sounds disgruntled. He jostles the phone and then clears his throat. “Sorry, I needed to move rooms. Listen, I don’t know what you’re doing there, but the owners got wind that you’re shopping yourself to the Rams and they’re pissed. They thought you liked it here and were going to sign an extension. I did too.”
My heart drops. I don’t want to think the worst, but I am. If the Rams are using Peyton to get to me, they’ll be sorry for hurting her. I’ll make sure of it, and if I lose my job because of them, I’ll sue them.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but I haven’t met with the Rams or anyone. My fiancée… they offered her a job a few weeks back, that’s it.”
“Unfortunately, the newswire has a different story. Just get here, Westbury, the sooner, the better.” He hangs up, leaving me with nothing but an agonizing feeling. I’m going to lose my job.
I get dressed, throw my clothes in my suitcase, send an urgent text to my dad that I need the plane, and walk out into the living room to find Peyton, her mom, and sister hovering over piles of magazines.
“Hey, babe,” she says when she sees me. The smile she has quickly faded once she notices my bags. “Are you leaving?”
“The Rams…” I pause and think hard about how I should approach this. I don’t want her to feel used, but that’s exactly how things look. “I have to go back to Portland and meet with the staff. Someone is saying that I’m shopping the Rams for an offer.”
Peyton stands, the mortification of my words evident on her face. “We never even spoke about you in the interview.”
I nod. “I know.”