With a sly grin on my lips, I leaned over the back of the couch to get Elle Belle's attention. She was wearing my old blue-striped boxers she stole back in New Orleans and one of my old college T-shirts. The woman could live in oversized tees and shorts. My eyes closed involuntarily as I brushed by her hair, the smell of eucalyptus and lavender sending a wave of calm through my entire body.
She must have felt me there, because she turned as soon as I leaned over. I opened my eyes and tried to hold in my laugh when her confused stare met mine. It was well established in our house that when she wrote, she forgot herself and hated--I mean hated--being interrupted. Louie was the only one allowed to bother her, and frankly, I was a bit jealous. The little asshole thought he was a king in this house.
She lifted her headphones off of one ear and turned more to face me.
"Hey, babe, what's up?" Her chipper tone caught me by surprise and made my heart squeeze. Her big green eyes sparkled, and her wide smile filled our space with an infectious joy. I couldn't help but give her a big smile and a tiny kiss on the tip of her nose.
She crinkled her nose and squeezed her eyes in that cute little thing she does whenever she's happy.
"I'm sorry, I know you hate to be bothered when you're writing, but dinner is almost ready."
Her eyes went wide with understanding. "Oh my God, I thought I smelled your mom's red beans. Ha, I mean, how could I not. It smells incredible in here. Thanks for cooking." She kissed my cheek with a little peck and glanced back to her computer screen.
"Elle Belle, you want to eat here so you can keep writing?"
"No, no, I'll be right there. I want to sit with you. I can't wait to tell you about this next book!" Her excitement radiated through the space between us, and I knew for the millionth time that this was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. My mother's ring was at the jewelers getting sized, and Elle had no idea.
"I can't wait to hear." I winked at her, and she playfully rolled her eyes.
"Seriously, give me like, five minutes, okay? I think I know what I want it to say."
Before she could turn around, I caught her chin lightly and whispered, my lips hovering millimeters above hers, "To the dreamers who dream..."
She closed her eyes and whispered back, "And to the ones who never give up."
Our lips met in a soft, passionate kiss. Then she pulled away, eyes determined, and put her headphones back over her ears. My lips still tingled with her kiss. I couldn't get enough of her kisses, and I'd let her steal all of mine for the rest of time. Over the years with Elle, she taught me that love is for those who can imagine it and grab hold. And I'd never let her go.
My stomach growled again as I pressed up from the couch, kissed the top of her head, and glanced at her screen. Laser focused, she released a deep exhale and began to type.
I knew death . . .
