Until the storm breaks, p.32
Until the Storm Breaks, page 32
“Calvin,” Lark appears at my elbow while Maren’s signing books. “Everything’s set for later at the house.”
“Perfect,” I tell her quietly. “Thank you for helping with this.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting for you to propose to her for months.” She grins and disappears back into the crowd.
The party continues, and I find myself just watching Maren work the room. She signs book after book, talking to each person like they’re the only one there, making everyone feel special the way she always has. She laughs at something one of the Romance Raiders says, her head thrown back, completely in her element.
This is where she belongs, surrounded by people who love her, celebrating something she created. She's radiant, confident, entirely herself.
I catch her eye across the room and she smiles, that private smile just for me, even in this crowded space. My fingers find the tattoo on my forearm, tracing the words there. Her words, from the poem that undid me when I read it: Let’s not wait for the silence to end. Speak to me while the rain is falling.
I got it the day she finished writing her book, and she teared up when she saw it. Now we both carry each other's words. Proof of how deeply we've marked each other, inside and out.
Later tonight I'll ask her to marry me, but right now I just watch her shine, feeling like the luckiest man alive. This woman who pours drinks and writes poetry, who sees through everyone's bullshit including mine, who made me want to be better than I was.
She's everything. And if she'll have me, I get to spend the rest of my life watching her light up rooms just like this.
MAREN
The path home is familiar under our feet. Calvin’s hand is warm in mine, and I’m still buzzing from the party and from seeing my actual book in people’s hands.
“I can’t believe the whole Romance Raiders book club came,” I say, swinging our joined hands between us. “Eleanor never cries. Ever.”
“She’s proud of you,” Calvin says, squeezing my hand. “We all are. You wrote something beautiful and true.”
“Eddie tried to pitch me his life story for my next book,” I laugh. “Apparently it involves three ex-wives, a fishing boat named Destiny, and what he calls ‘the great lobster incident of ’98.’”
“Bestseller material,” Calvin says, and I laugh again.
We round the last bend and our house comes into view, the porch light we always leave on glowing warm against the darkness. Then I notice something else. “Calvin, why is the sunroom all lit up?”
The addition glows from within, warm light spilling through all those windows he spent months repairing. My stomach flutters.
“Come see,” he says, leading me up the porch steps and around to the sunroom’s separate entrance. He pauses with his hand on the door handle. “Close your eyes.”
“Calvin...”
“Trust me.”
I close them. I hear the door open, feel the warmth from inside touch my face.
“Step forward,” he says, his hand on my elbow guiding me. “One more. Okay.” His voice is soft. “Open them.”
I do, and stop breathing.
The entire sunroom is transformed. Fairy lights are strung everywhere, creating a canopy of soft light. Pink and white peonies overflow from every surface, arranged in mason jars on the window sills, clustered in vintage vases on the shelves, even woven through the rafters with the lights. Petals are scattered across the floor like snow. He must have bought out every florist in three towns. The old wooden floors gleam in the glow.
“What is this?” I whisper, stepping inside, turning in a slow circle to take it all in.
“Maren,” Calvin says, and something in his voice makes me turn.
He’s dropping to one knee, a small velvet box already in his hand.
My hands fly to my mouth. Oh my god. This is happening.
He opens the box, revealing a beautiful vintage ring with delicate filigree work, the diamond catching all the fairy lights.
“Maren Strand, you’re brilliant and funny and fierce. I want everything with you. Morning coffee on the porch. Reading your drafts before anyone else gets to. Lazy Sundays with Laila taking up the whole bed. I want to wake up next to you every day, build this house into exactly what we want it to be, and come home to you every night.”
His voice is steady and sure, his eyes never leaving mine. The tears are falling from my eyes now, streaming down my face as he continues.
“We found each other in the middle of grief and chose to build something beautiful from it. I choose you, Maren. Every day, forever. Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” I say, my voice breaking. “Yes, of course, yes.”
He stands then, sliding the ring onto my finger before pulling me into his arms, kissing me deeply while tears run down my face. When he pulls back just enough for me to look at the ring on my hand, I gasp again, really seeing it now.
“It was my mom’s,” he says. “My brothers agreed you should be the one to have it.”
“It’s perfect,” I breathe, looking at this piece of Susan on my hand, this connection to the woman who brought us together.
He kisses me again, lifting me off my feet slightly, and I’m laughing against his mouth.
We stay there holding each other for a long moment, just breathing each other in. When I finally pull back to look at my ring again, turning my hand to catch the light, Calvin watches me with this expression of complete contentment.
“We’re getting married,” I say, testing the words.
“We’re getting married.” He spins me in a slow circle, the fairy lights blurring around us.
Through the windows, I can see the path to the cabins, the glimpse of water beyond. This place where we found each other, lost each other, and found each other again. Tomorrow we’ll tell everyone. Tonight is just ours.
“I love you,” I tell him, meaning it with everything I have.
His hands come up to frame my face, thumbs brushing over my cheekbones as he studies me like I’m something precious. “I love you too.” He pulls me flush against him, one hand sliding to the small of my back while the other stays cupped around my jaw. The way he holds me, firm and sure like he’ll never let go, makes my heart race. “Forever, Maren. You and me.”
“Forever,” I agree, and he seals it with another kiss that leaves me dizzy.
And here, surrounded by fairy lights and pink and white peonies in the room he rebuilt with his own hands, in the house that holds so much history and so much future, I believe in our forever completely.
This is our next chapter. And it’s absolutely perfect.
—The End—
Want to get to know Lark and Jack more deeply? Check out Until You Say Stay, book two in the Midnight Men series.
A NOTE FROM NATE
Thank you for reading.
Before you go, I want to say something plainly: I’m a man writing steamy romance. That’s who I am as a writer, and part of what makes my books different. It’s also a responsibility I take seriously. This genre has been built and shaped by women whose work I admire deeply. I write with consent at the center, my perspective informed by that work and sharpened through careful listening and honest feedback.
I bring my voice to the page, and I bring it with respect, care, and the belief that intimacy should feel powerful, chosen, and emotionally true. If you trusted me with this story—with these characters' bodies and hearts and futures—thank you. That trust matters to me more than you can know.
If you enjoyed the book, I hope you’ll check out the rest of The Midnight Men series. Each book follows a different couple and works as a standalone, but the town, the family, and the connections carry through.
I also have a new project brewing: a small-town, steamy contemporary romance series set in the Napa Valley. It’s full of romance, beautiful settings, good wine and, of course, quite a bit of steam. The series is called Solstice Hearts, and if you love the Midnight Men, I think you’ll enjoy it.
Until the Storm Breaks is also available as an audiobook, read by the incredible Stephen Dexter and Callie Dalton. They exceeded my highest hopes with their performances, and I encourage you to check it out if you’d like to experience this story in a new way.
I also have a website, where you can sign up to hear about new releases, special projects, bonus content, and other fun stuff.
If you’re enjoying my work, I’d be grateful if you left a review or shared it with a friend, a book club, or anyone you think might love it. In a crowded online world, personal recommendations still mean everything.
Writing contemporary romance has been one of the most rewarding turns in my life. I’m drawn to stories about connection—about people who carry history, who hesitate, who want something real and aren’t yet sure they deserve it.
I don’t take it lightly that you chose to spend your time with these characters. Every book exists because readers keep showing up and trusting me with stories about love, healing, and second chances.
I write from Washington state, usually with my cat Nala nearby. I’m grateful you’re here, and I hope this story stays with you.
-Nate Wilder
NATE WILDER BOOKS IN ORDER
The Midnight Men Series
Book 1: Until the Storm Breaks
Book 2: Until You Say Stay
Book 3: Until the Stars Fall
Book 4: Until the Sparks Fly
ABOUT NATE WILDER
Nate Wilder writes small-town romance. Steamy, emotional, and full of the kind of chemistry that keeps you reading past midnight.
A former journalist and chef, he's a devoted romance reader who believes the world needs more love, more steam, and more happily-ever-afters.
He writes from Washington state, where he is supervised in all matters by his opinionated cat, Nala.
Nate Wilder, Until the Storm Breaks
