Marrying Daisy Bellamy

Marrying Daisy Bellamy by Susan Wiggs Page B

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Authors: Susan Wiggs
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Maybe her silence was a good thing, because he was being more honest with her than he’d ever been before.
    â€œAnd I wondered why danger and risk feel good to me. Maybe it’s because whenever I took a risk and put myself in danger, people paid attention, sometimes just to yell at me. Even Connor—the sole reason we had a relationship at all was that he had to take charge of me when I got into trouble. But you, Daisy. You’re the first person who didn’t pay attention to me because Iwas doing something dangerous. You paid attention because…hell, I don’t know, but I know it felt different. Everything about you is different, the way you look and smell, the way you feel in my arms.”
    They weren’t even touching, yet Daisy had never felt closer to anyone than she did to Julian at this moment. She didn’t dare move or speak because she sensed this was hard for him and didn’t want him to stop.
    â€œI was seventeen years old the first time I met you,” he said, still staring into their reflection in the water, “and I wish I’d paid more attention then to the way you made me feel. Maybe I would’ve had the sense to find a way to stay close to you, after we parted ways that summer, instead of watching you head off to a bad situation. When I found out you were pregnant, I thought it was a sign that you’d taken another path. A path that didn’t include me. And all through college, I guess I felt like I had to prove myself to you. You know, the beautiful rich girl. And any way you cut it, I’m from the wrong side of the tracks. It’s ridiculous to think about me and a Bellamy, for Chrissake. I didn’t see how you and I would ever connect. We come from totally different worlds.”
    She held her breath. Was he saying they were incompatible, that love wasn’t enough? “Julian—”
    â€œHang on, I’m getting to the point. Where we come from doesn’t have to matter. I’m not going to worry about what other people will say, the color of our skin and what our kids might look like. What matters is…it’s us. Our hopes and dreams and what we want our lives to be.”
    He kissed her swiftly, his warm lips lingering against hers, his breath gusting over her cheek. “Whew,” he said. “That’s, like, the longest speech I’ve ever given. Sorry if I rambled.”
    She could listen to him talk like that forever. “You didn’t ramble.”
    â€œI’ve been practicing what I wanted to say. In my head. God, don’t think I was walking around campus, spouting stuff about hopes and dreams. But I meant every word.” With that, he got up and grabbed the picnic bag, bringing it to the steps of the gazebo, built some years ago for her grandparents’ golden anniversary. She followed, still entranced by the things he’d said. There was no one around. The gazebo was broadcasting music from somewhere. She recognized the old classic, “Wonderful Tonight” by Eric Clapton.
    â€œWhoa,” she said. “Is someone here?”
    â€œWe are now.” Julian set down the bag. Turning to face her, he paused for what felt like a full minute and studied her face. She did the same, seeing love and pain in the yearning in his eyes.
    â€œThanks for coming here with me,” he said at last, bending down to kiss her again.
    â€œThanks for bringing me,” she said, feeling drunk from the taste of him. “It’s been an awesome day.”
    â€œWe’re just getting started.” He took out a bottle of champagne and two glasses.
    When he uncorked the champagne with a loud thwok, Daisy felt a surge of excitement. “Julian?”
    â€œHang on,” he said, putting his arm around her. “You okay?”
    â€œI’m kind of shaking.” The Eric Clapton song was perfect, romantic and true. He was a guy from an older generation, but his music told the

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