46. Chapter 45
Chapter 45
Keaton
Layne stared at me from where she was sitting on the steps next to me, pool water reaching up to her midriff. Water dripped from her curls, her hair having grown down to her shoulders since the radical cut. “What are you talking about?”
The pain lacing her voice hit me hard and unforgiving, and I had to force myself to hold her gaze. “I’ve read the Bible, cover to cover, and it’s pretty clear about what a godly man is supposed to look like. I’m not that man, Layne. I’m too broken. I can’t love you like Jesus loved the church. I . . .”
Not able to look at her any longer, I stared into the darkness of our backyard. A blanket of stars stretched above us, the air smelling of chlorine and plumeria. Crickets chirped.
The thought of not seeing that beautiful smile every day, not getting roasted by her, not letting her take one of my cars for a drift, not being inspired by her strong faith . . .
How was I supposed to move on without her?
Guess I’d have to figure that out somehow, because the only right thing to do was to let her go. I had to bow out so another man could take my place and be the spiritual leader she needed.
I wanted her to be in good hands, even if seeing her with another guy would kill me.
It would. I was sure of it.
But there was one last privilege I wouldn’t pass up.
I turned back to Layne and edged closer with her gaze tracking my every move. I didn’t stop until we were only inches apart and I felt her breath on my wet face. My mouth went so dry I could have downed the entire pool.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
Kissing you. One last time.
I slid a hand behind her neck with that intention, but she turned her face away. For a second, I thought she was going to brush me off, but then she wrapped her arms around my neck, pressing her cheek against mine. Her whole body trembled.
I pulled her on my lap, craving replaced by a fierce desire to be there for her. “You cold?”
“No,” she mumbled.
I wanted to look her in the eye, but the way she clung to me made it impossible.
Fine with me. I didn’t want to let her go. Mainly for her, and a tiny selfish bit for myself. It felt good to be held like that. To be needed without having to prove myself.
That was it. I didn’t have to prove myself to her. She accepted me the way I was, screwup and all.
The numbness in my chest grew with every second I held her, the familiar void reminding me too much of my life before her. I didn’t want to lose her. I wanted her to tell me to not let her go, but she, too, seemed to know it was for the best.
Her body started shaking harder. She was crying.
“Layne.”
Wait, she wasn’t crying. She was laughing. “ Du bisch sonen Holzchopf. ”
By now I knew that was the equivalent to bonehead.
She drew back, grinning at me. “You’re a new Christian, Keaton. You can’t expect your chains from the past to just fall away. It takes time to grow in your faith. And it’s not like I’m a Proverbs 31 woman either.”
I opened my mouth to object—
“I’m not done. The idea of a couple is to grow together, and that’s what we’ll do. I help you grow closer to God, and you help me. It’s as simple as that. You won’t get rid of me that easily, Keaton Lancaster Grady.”
My heart jackhammered in my chest. “You sure?”
Pressing her lips together, she nodded. “Absolutely.”
I closed my eyes. Opened them again, and took in my beautiful wife. There was so much I wanted to say but didn’t know how. So I dared to say what had been on my mind for the past month. “We could get married again. For real this time.”
Her face lit up. “I would love that.”
“Good, because Kingsley volunteered to do the honors.”
“Wait, you asked him even though you thought you have to let me go?”
“I prayed hard and hoped you’d stay.” My admission emerged hoarse. I once again cupped the back of her head, and this time, Layne didn’t move away when I claimed her mouth with mine. Instead of stiffening under my touch like in the early stages of our relationship, she melted against me. Looped her arms around the back of my neck.
This right here was pure trust.
Unlike how I’d kissed her before, I took my time—needed this one to last. So I kept it slow. Gentle. More meaningful.
And I wanted to keep it that way. For once, I didn’t want to snap into hunger mode, even though I knew Layne would be more than willing.
That was what prompted me to ease her off my lap, because the feel of her slick skin against mine, her sweet taste, started sucking me into a vortex of oblivion and burning desire.
“I wanna take it easy,” I said, my breath coming hard. “Wait till we renew our wedding vows.”
“Did you just say wait?” A brazen grin took over Layne’s face. “I didn’t even know this word was in your vocabulary.”
“You taught me that.”
She shook her head. “The Bible taught you that.”
“It did.” It was a fascinating book—challenging, comforting, a treasure of wisdom.
“So, when are we getting married?”
I brushed a curl out of Layne’s face. “I have a trip coming up. To Vegas. Any day after that.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“Four days. I want you to stay with Tripp and Wentworth.”
“Okay.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, and I forced myself not to stare at it. “I can’t wait.”
“Me either, baby.” I leaned in, then stopped myself. “There’s one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m also gonna get baptized on that day.”
Layne’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Yasss.” She pumped a fist in the air, then flung her arms around me. “You have no idea how happy this makes me.”
Her excitement made me chuckle. “I know. Me, too.”
As I held her close, an uneasy feeling brewed in my gut. Being gone meant I couldn’t protect Layne. What if the Psycho had waited for this opportunity?