Less than Perfect by S. J. Evans (librera reader .TXT) 📖

excuse for her that completely let her off the hook—her heart still sped a little, from fear that Leah would figure him out.
“Mrs. Montgomery said ‘because it was a special occasion’, and I was just wondering what that meant. Is there a special occasion?” Jules’s voice didn’t once waver from his impeccably even tone, and Skye wished he’d just stop, before he got in any deeper. “Just curious.” He shrugged, plucked a blueberry muffin from the basket Skye had passed him, and focused his attention on Joe.
And to Skye’s utter surprise, Joe just chuckled. “Oh, so that’s what you meant,” he said, as if it had all just been misinterpreted, all just one big misunderstanding. “Well, if you must know, Jules, tonight is a special occasion because it’s the anniversary of the day I first met Leah.” He grinned at Leah then, a bright gleaming grin that reached his rich, bold eyes. “Happy Anniversary.”
Leah made a small pitchy sound in the back of her throat, and beamed back at him, giving his hand a tight squeeze before picking up her wine glass and taking a sip of the dark liquid.
Skye, having been completely taken off guard with that fact, even though it was rightfully true, had to fight to keep her mouth intact, fighting the urge to gawk in her own surprise. The anniversary. Tonight. Right

, she thought, trying to catch up, that’s why he wanted to have the dinner tonight, particularly.

“Happy anniversary,” Jules said softly, snapping Skye out of her cluttered thoughts. “I had no idea. That’s wonderful.”
Shaking her head, Skye cleared her thoughts, replaced them with ones of Jules’s surprise, Joe’s surprise, and the entire evening’s events that were all jumbled together, about to create what could possibly end up being one of the most unforgettable evenings yet. At that thought, she smiled, pulled Jules’s hand in hers from underneath the table, and watched as Joe’s face lit up even more—which by this time, with his face already radiant, she wouldn’t have thought possible.
“Thank you,” Leah and Joe both said, nearly in sync, only a few beats apart, and they looked at each other, giving each other that look of sweet surprise.
After that conversation picked up, slowed down, and then picked up again, all the while the four of them filled their plates with scrumptious cuisine, and slowly began to pick away at their food, little by little, bite by bite. There were no awkward silences, no more complicated, unnecessary surprises, and Skye couldn’t help but think that everything was perfect. Like it always should have been.
Now, after thirty minutes of pleasurable conversation and interaction with one another, Joe, having just cleaned his plate, scooted his seat back, plucked something—a small, navy box from the quick glimpse Skye had caught of it—out of his pocket, and walked around to the other side of Leah’s chair. She watched him, asking what he was doing; all the while he just smiled, saying “you’ll see,” quietly, as Jules and Skye looked on in flourished excitement, giving sidelong glances at each other.
By the time he’d leaned down on one knee, holding out the small, velvet box before him, Leah’s mouth was agape, her brows furrowed, eyes wide with perplexed anticipation, while Skye’s heart picked up its pace and she had to squeeze Jules’s hand to reassure herself that this was what she wanted for her mother and Joe. She wanted them to be together.
“Oh, Joe,” Leah gasped, cupping a hand over her mouth, “what are you doing?” Her tone was soft, soothing, and Skye couldn’t help but smile gleefully at the expression on her mother’s face—one with such beautiful happiness and admiration there was no doubt she’d say yes to whatever Joe was about to propose—and the tears of what she could only assume was joy that already trickled down the side of her face. “Joe,” she said again, grinning.
“Leah Elizabeth Montgomery,” Joe began, opening the box in his hand to reveal a beautiful, glistening diamond engraved into the crook of a silver band—an engagement ring. “With all of my heart, all of my love, I kneel before you tonight to propose to you my vow of commitment into your life, and ask a question I’ve been longing to ask you for years now.” With his free hand, he pulled one of Leah’s hands into his, and hesitated a moment, prolonging the moment. “Leah Elizabeth, will you marry me?”
Skye held her breath as this rapid, invigorating silence crept over the room, leaving her with her anticipation pulsing in her ears. Her stomach tangled into knots, despite the fact that she could almost feel

Leah’s response—that highly desired, yes—on the tip of her mother’s tongue. She just needed to know for sure.
And the moment Leah took a deep breath, glanced towards Skye for confirmation (which she’d quickly found was a go), nodded her head in the slightest, and said the words everyone was waiting for, Skye’s entire body tingled with excitement. “Yes, Joe,” Leah had said, sniffling, “I will marry you.”
Everything after that happened so quickly. Joe slid the ring onto Leah’s finger, stood up and crushed her into his arms, while Skye jumped up and down in her seat a little, just like she’d done as a kid when she got something she wanted, and Jules watched the scene unfold before his eyes with a wide, genuine smile on his face.
In a moment, Skye had let go of Jules hand to scoot out of her seat and scurry into her mother’s and, soon to be step-father’s, arms, holding on as if her life depended on it for awhile, long and tight enough that it actually felt real

. It wasn’t all just a dream. Leah and Joe were going to get married someday, Skye was going to have a good, decent man as her father figure, finally, and nothing could’ve made that moment any more special.
Nothing, that is, Skye could have ever anticipated.
“Joe, is now really a good time?”
It was Jules’s voice, ringing in Skye’s ears, bringing her out of her haze of excitement for the two people enveloped around her. She pulled away slightly, only to hold on to her mother, and turned to watch Jules as he walked, hands in his pockets, towards them, his quirky smile provoking little butterflies to flutter around in her stomach nervously. Good time for what?

she asked herself.
Joe waved a hand in Jules’s direction, and took a step closer to Leah, wrapping her in his arms and pulling her away from Skye, just slightly, but enough that she noticed the gap. “It’s perfect. Go ahead. Leah and I give you our full approval.”
One look at Jules’s nervous stance and Skye knew that whatever he was about to do, whatever he needed the approval for, had something to do with his surprise for her. And she couldn’t stand the suspense anymore. “What are you talking about, Jules?” she asked, somewhat breathlessly, and took a step closer to him. “What’s going on? Is this a part of your surprise?”
He grinned, eyes twitching. “You bet it is,” he said hotly, his voice seductive and fiery in her ears; although she could only hope it hadn’t sounded that way to the two adults now standing behind her. “It’s all a part of the surprise.”
“So, what then?” She closed the space in between them again. “What is it? Just tell me already.”
“Okay,” he said, and kneeled down on one knee, his hand reaching for something in his pocket, too, just like Joe had done. Skye’s heart missed a beat when he pulled out a box, nearly identical to Joe’s except slightly larger, and held it up to her. “Open it,” he instructed, beaming.
Desperately, she tried to keep her hands from shaking when she reached out to do as he said, and when she felt the smooth, soft velvet beneath her fingertips, she closed her eyes a moment before taking a breath and giving Jules that same puzzled, surprised look Leah had given Joe, only without the tears. “Open it?”
“Open it,” he repeated, softly, tenderly, as if she could take as much time as she liked and it wouldn’t matter to him. “Please.”
With her insides tingling and her head spinning, pulse racing, she quickly peeled the lid open and looked down at the cool, object that lay in the box, unable to tear her gaze away. “Jules,” she breathed, taken so far aback she was having a hard time grappling what was happening, “what is this for?”
Without wasting a second, he answered with his own question. “Skylar Renee Montgomery, would you please accept this gift, this key to my father’s beach house, as a symbol of my commitment to you, and join me on a trip to the house tonight? A one night, one day stay out there, just the two of us, uninterrupted. And you get to keep the key as long as you’d like.”
Slipping the key into her hand, she examined it, from its small, old fashioned design to the warm promise it withheld in its possibilities, not visible but felt. Her entire body thrived with an entirely different energy when she focused her attention back on Jules, heart slowing, warmth spreading, happiness rising—if that was even possible. And after a few long, unforgettable moments caught up in his gaze, the boy she’d fallen so irrevocable in love with, she slowly nodded her head.
“Yes, Jules,” she said, grinning. “I accept your gift, and I’d love

to join you on this trip tonight. Just the two of us.”
Snapping the box shut, he tossed it out of the way, sprang to his feet, and pulled her into his embrace, crushing her the way she loved so dearly. “Perfect.” His voice was so warm, so beautiful, and so full of love that Skye’s eyes nearly watered as her throat constricted on tears she wouldn’t let out. Even if they were happy tears, she didn’t want to let them free. Not this time. This time things were different.
After that, a group-hug formed, Leah and Joe hustling to wrap themselves around the two kids, and they all finished off the dining part of the evening rather slowly, talking and hugging, celebrating the commitments made and memories shared. And it was in those moments, surrounded by the people she loved most, with bubbly laughter and silly conversation puncturing any silence that could evolve, when Skye realized just how happy she was to be free. How happy she was that there really had been hope after all—even when she’d once never imagined it possible.

“I’LL CARRY YOU HOME TONIGHT,” Jules sang loudly—and to Skye’s dismay, obnoxiously—as he scurried up behind her, wrapping his strong, wet