35. Sutton #2
We stay under the warm spray of water, touching, kissing, and holding one another until the water runs tepid.
Hunter takes a large, fluffy, white towel and towels me dry, each nerve ending in my body stands at the ready.
He glides the towel along my arms, around my breasts.
He swipes it along my stomach, the fabric caressing my ribs.
He kneels to drag it slowly up each thigh and gently presses it to my center, eliciting a sharp inhale from me.
His eyes meet mine—intense, full of heat and humor and worship all tangled together.
“Can I have my present now?” His voice sends tingles down my spine.
“No,” I sigh, “but you can have me.”
That’s all it takes.
Hunter drops the towel, rips the plastic from his cast, and scoops me into his arms one-handed. I yelp when he tosses me onto the bed, bouncing against the down comforter.
“Good god,” he groans, spreading my thighs, eyes roaming. “When your tits bounce like that, I . . .”
He lowers himself between my thighs, and whatever witty retort I had evaporates, along with every stray thought in my mind.
My fingers clutch his shoulders. The room falls away until there’s only the warmth of his breath, the sure grip of his hands on my body, and the kind of devotion I’ve waited half my life for.
Just before the world blurs completely . . .
“Hunter,” I whisper, catching his jaw in my hand. “You’re my person. I love you.”
His gaze lifts, a combination of hunger and emotion.
“You are my everything,” he breathes. “You are my always. I will love you every moment of every day until my last breath. And then I’ll love you for eternity.”
He lowers his mouth to mine with such tenderness it breaks my heart wide open.
I let myself fall, knowing he’ll catch me.
Just like he always promised.
Faint glimpses of light stretch through the curtains as I wake to the warmth of Hunter’s arm draped over me. “Merry Christmas,” I murmur, still half lost in sleep.
“Merry Christmas, babe,” he says, voice husky.
I smile, slipping out of bed, and grab his gift I got too side-tracked to give him last night. The chill in the air nips at my naked flesh. Hunter sits up, watching me, curiosity in his eyes as I hand the gift to him.
“I know this isn’t typically my vibe. I thought it could—”
“Woman, just let me open it.” He smiles, ripping the paper from the box. Inside are holiday pj’s. The soft, flannel kind, covered in tiny trees and snowflakes.
“These are festive,” he says, trying to suppress his laughter. “And definitely not your style.”
“I know!” I pull a similar box out. “We get to match.”
He stands from the bed, comforter falling and revealing his gloriously naked body, and immediately puts them on. “I love them.” He holds me at arm’s length, eyes scanning my naked body. “And as much as I’d love you to wear this all day, you better put yours on, so I can give you your gift.”
“Do I finally get to see the backyard?”
Hunter nods, and a smile takes over his entire face.
I dress quickly, grinning at the ridiculousness of our matching outfits. He takes my hand and leads me downstairs to the back porch. “Ready?” he asks me.
“Of course!” I say. “I’ve been on pins and needles the last few weeks waiting for this.”
Hunter opens the door.
My heart flops clear out of my chest.
The porch stretches before us, wet wood glistening in the pale morning light. A fine drizzle mists the yard the way it does just before it’s cold enough to snow. Everything glistens. The air is crisp and sweet.
I take it all in. A string of twinkly lights along the banister, a table tucked in the corner, a fire pit ready for our evenings, and two Adirondack chairs facing our back-forty view.
“You did all this?” I whisper, stepping onto the porch.
He shrugs, but the pride in his stance gives him away. “I might have had a little help. But mostly, yeah. And it’s not finished yet. Here.” Hunter hands me a rolled-up paper. My fingers tremble as I unfurl a detailed drawing of a swing, complete with H+S Forever etched inside a heart.
“This damn cast and the weather made it impossible for me to get your swing done, but I—”
“You drew this?”
He nods his head, a bit shy for him. “Come spring, you’ll have the swing you’ve always wanted.”
“Hunter,” I say, emotion clogging my throat as I sit on the first step. Wet pj’s be damned. “It’s everything I could have imagined it would be.”
He steps next to where I’m sitting, his heat seeping into me. I wrap my arm around his leg and lean my face against his thigh.
He runs his fingers through my hair and lets it rest along the back of my neck. “I got you something else too.”
“Hunter, all I got you was pj’s. This is too—”
“It’s not too much.” He bends down and kisses my cheek. “I’ll be right back.” He disappears inside for a moment. I shiver against the wintery cold, already missing his warmth. When he returns, he sits next to me and places a box in my lap.
My chest tightens. I open it slowly, and my breath catches. “I can’t believe you,” I say. Inside are a pair of purple rain boots.
He helps me slip them onto my feet. I kick them slightly, laughing through tears, and he tugs me into a hug.
He leans closer, brushing a curl from my face. “Come on, let’s see if they work.”
We run into the drizzle, ignoring the freezing weather, and splash in the puddles, laughing until our stomachs ache. My hands find his, our fingers lace tight, and I can’t help the smile that splits my face.
“C’mon, babe,” Hunter says, “we better get under cover before we both catch colds.” He drags me back under the patio.
“Just a few more minutes,” I say.
Hunter nods and says, “I’ll be right back.” He heads inside, hair plastered to his forehead, his grin wide and unrestrained, and my heart melts all over again.
When he returns, he leans against the doorframe with a blanket and two matching coffee mugs.
“You know,” he says, “I don’t know if it’s the view or you. But now that I’ve got both, I can’t imagine my life without this”—he gestures to the sky in the distance—“watching the sun come up with you.”
My chest tightens—a heavy feeling that I feel everywhere.
I think about the long, winding road that brought us here.
The pain, the near misses, the hope.
And I know, with absolute certainty, that this is the life I’ve always wanted.
Hunter sits next to me and hands me a coffee mug. He wraps the blanket around me and pulls my head against his chest. The first crystals of winter drift from the sky, the wind whispering through the trees. I close my eyes and sink into his warmth, completely at peace.
Hunter presses a kiss into my hair. “You good, babe?”
I smile. I’ve never been better.
For so long, I believed that if I loosened my grip on life, everything I loved would slip through my fingers.
But sitting here with Hunter—watching the snow fall over the home we built together—I finally understand something.
Every now and then, it’s okay to let go.
Because sometimes . . .
Everything falls into place.
The End