Chapter 62
SIXTY-TWO
Two days later . . .
“Mackie, what is all this?” I ask, looking around curiously.
The entire backyard has been transformed.
There’s a huge tent, and when I peer inside, it has a double bed with blankets, pillows, string lights, and even a rug.
Outside are chairs and a grill. There are containers as well, and I peer inside, seeing cakes and cookies, the ones Mackie makes.
“For us. Noah is staying out for the night so we can spend it together. We are going to grill, camp, and have a night just us. I’ve been practicing some vegetarian recipes, and I thought we could just be together,” he says, looking worried for a moment.
“I love it,” I tell him as I cup his cheeks. “That’s so sweet, but you must be tired after all the hours you put in. You didn’t need to do this.”
Covering my hands with his, he smiles softly at me, searching my face and laying me bare.
“Yes, I did. You’ve been so understanding of all my work hours, moving in with us, and watching me announce my relationship live on air.
You’ve been so fucking understanding, but I never want you to think you mean less to me than him.
I love you, Conan, so much, and I plan to show you that because if I don’t, you wouldn’t mention it.
You’d be understanding, even if it hurt you, and I don’t want that.
You’re my life, you’re the man I’m in love with, and I want you to know that, even when I’m busy. ”
“I never thought I was. We both need different things, and you both needed that—”
He covers my mouth with his hand. “Let me do this, okay? I know we aren’t each other’s first love, but let’s act like it. Tonight, it’s just us. Let’s be young and stupid and think of nothing else but being with the person who makes us so happy. Is that okay?”
My heart aches as I look at Mackie, the sweetest sunshine there ever was.
It doesn’t matter how busy or tired he is.
He always thinks of the people around him.
Even leading up to his last race, he checked on me and sent food to my work.
It’s who he is, and the fact that he thinks he’s anything but utter perfection makes my chest hurt.
I love him so much, it scares me.
It doesn’t bother me that we are sharing our lives with Noah, but having nights with just us . . . I love it.
“Oh, I brought your camera too. Evan helped me.” He points at my bag, which I didn’t even see sitting to the side. “You’ve always mentioned wanting to take our pictures, so I figured why not tonight?” Leaning up, he kisses me quickly. “Now go sit your pretty, old ass down while I cook.”
Swatting his ass, I watch him laugh as he heads to the grill, but I sit in the chair and watch him. I play with the settings on my camera before lifting it and snapping some pictures of him, his face locked in concentration as he cooks.
Eventually, he brings me a glass of wine, and I tug him down onto my lap. He wiggles, trying to get away. “The food will burn,” he whines.
I rest my chin on his neck. “Just give me one minute.”
He relaxes back into me, and I hold him tightly before I hear sizzling and have to let him go, knowing he would be upset if his hard work burned. He hurries away, and by the time he’s dished everything up, my camera is full of pictures of him.
My favorite muse.
The sun starts to set as we lay it all out on the blanket, and I tug him into my arms and hand feed him as he watches me happily. “It’s really good. I like the broccoli dish the best.”
“Really?” He perks up. “I’ll make it whenever you want.”
“Promise?” I murmur as I wipe some potato from the corner of his lips and suck it clean from my thumb. He gulps as he watches me do it, and I can’t stop my satisfied smirk. He always looks at me like that, shy and needy, even after how much we’ve been together.
“Promise,” he whispers as he glances away. “I better clean up.”
Darting up, he starts to put stuff away, so I lean back and observe him. His cheeks are red, and he’s ducking his head, knowing I’m watching, but he puts on a show for me, bending repeatedly until my eyes narrow.
“Baby boy,” I warn.
“Yes, Conan?” he replies innocently.
“Do it again and you’ll be face down in that blanket,” I warn. He bites his lip, indicating that’s exactly what he wants, but I want to just watch him, so I hide my smile at his disappointment.
By the time he cleans up, it’s dark, and he turns the lights on, throwing everything into a warm, romantic glow before he climbs into the tent, so I follow, sprawling across the bed at his side as I take his hand and stroke his fingers.
“I want you to have the best life,” he murmurs, and I turn my head, confused. “I don’t want you to miss out on anything because of me. I want you to be happy and free, so if there’s ever anything you want or need to do, just tell me. I’ll do it with you. I want to spend our lives together.”
He looks so serious. I hate it.
I’m happy, and he’s happy. That’s all that matters. Everything else is just superficial.
“There is something I’ve always wanted to do,” I admit as I play with his fingers.
“What’s that?” he asks hopefully.
Lifting my hand, I meet his gaze. “Take pictures like she did, just us with your beautiful skin on display . . . something just for me.”
“You mean naked?” His brows rise as he turns until he’s on his front, his head propped on his hand as he watches me. “Conan, you dirty old dog.”
I lean in, watching his eyes widen. “But you want that, right? Want me to take your picture with nothing between us? I noticed the look in your eye when you saw the ones Amanda took. You liked it.”
His eyes dart between mine, so I cup his chin and drag him closer as he falls into me. “You belong to me, Mackie, every inch of you. Let me show you.”
“Yes,” he murmurs, closing his eyes as he surrenders.
Grinning, I brush my lips over his. “Good boy. Stand up.”
Turning away, I sit up and grab my camera. He blinks owlishly before sliding from the bed and standing at the end. “Now strip for me.”
He’s unsure at first, but when he grabs the bottom of his shirt and starts to lift it, I raise my camera.
“Slowly,” I instruct.
Breathing deeply, he moves deliberately.
I snap, and I don’t stop as he pulls it over his head and lets it drop before reaching for his pants.
He unzips them slowly then pushes them down, bending forward.
I never stop taking pictures, capturing that obsessive, needy gleam in his eyes as he kicks off his boxers and stands.
He lowers to his knees and crawls toward me, and desire hammers through me so hard, my hands shake on my camera.
His palms land on my thighs and slide up as he gets as close as he can to the lens. “Like this? Is this how you want me?”
“Yes.” I choke for a moment, and he grins.
“Do you direct your other models like this?” he asks, his eyes flashing with jealousy.
“No,” I reply as he leans in and kisses my camera.
“Good. I want to be your only one,” he says as he sits back. “How else do you want me in this fantasy of yours?”
“Do what you want, baby boy. I just want to capture it,” I say, and a wicked look enters his eyes as he strips me, staring at my hard cock before he licks the tip.
My groan fills the tent as I fumble with the buttons before I remember what I was doing.
I keep taking pictures as he plays, my desire growing with each swipe of his pink tongue.
His playful hand explores me like we have no cares in the world, and we don’t.
We have forever together, and he shows me that with each kiss, touch, and taste until I’m on the verge of coming.
“Fuck, enough, baby boy. If you carry on, I’ll be shooting my load down that pretty throat.” His eyes simmer at the idea, and I chuckle. “Later, brat. I want your pretty body stretched out for me first.”
Rolling above him, I peer into the viewfinder and keep taking pictures for a moment before letting the camera hang from the strap.
I trace my tongue across the tattoo on each side of his hip then up his abs and chin, then I kiss him until he reaches for me.
I sit up and grab my camera once more, taking pictures as my eyes open, narrowed and demanding. His chest heaves, and he looks so sexy.
Sliding down his body, I peer at him over the camera. “Touch yourself.”
His Adam’s apple bobs, but he doesn’t hesitate.
One hand slides down his chest and wraps around his cock, while the other touches his neck.
He strokes himself as he watches me with half-lidded eyes.
I capture the way his mouth parts as he moans my name, the way his skin turns the most perfect shade of red, and how his hands work his length as his dark eyes hold me prisoner until I can’t take any more.
Reaching over, I hand him the bottle. “Get us both nice and ready,” I instruct, my voice hoarse.
His chest heaves as he pops the cap of the lube and squirts it all over my length.
The cold liquid makes me shiver as his hand wraps around me and works it down my shaft.
“You now,” I order, fighting my desire as he lies back.
Coating his fingers in the lube, he slips them inside himself as deeply as he can, his puckered hole stretching as he cries out.
“Sorry, baby boy, you’re driving me crazy.
I need to be inside you.” I groan, snapping before dropping the camera.
Grabbing his legs, I lift them over my shoulders and drive into him.
His head drops back as he gasps, his tight ass gripping me, and I thrust as deeply as I can.
Pulling out, I work myself back in until he takes all of me.
I move slowly with rolling thrusts that have him reaching for me until we fall into each other.
Our kiss is sloppy and perfect, our hearts racing in sync.
“Conan, I love you,” he whispers as he pulls back.
“I love you too, baby boy, now let me show you.” I flex my hips, loving the way he moans.
Sliding my hand up his body, I grip his flexing pecs, squeezing before biting his nipples then his sides.
I wrap my fingers around his throat, anchoring us together and loving the way his eyes melt for me when I do.
His hips lift to take me deeper, our moans echoing around the tent.
Lifting the camera, I snap a few pictures before tossing it to the side and focusing on my baby as his cries grow.
“Conan, please, I’m so close—” His head falls back, his eyes sliding shut.
“That’s it, baby boy, come for me,” I murmur as I tighten my hold on his neck and drive into him, hitting those nerves.
His cock erupts across his chest, and I lean down, pressing us together, smearing his cum as he cries out. I try to hold back, but when he whispers my name, I’m lost.
I fill him with my release as pleasure steals everything from me, even my strength.
His mouth is slack as I collapse on top of him, his arms wrapping around me.
I kiss any skin I can reach. “I’m so glad I met you, Mackie. You saved my life back then and now again. I wouldn’t be me without you. Whether it be fate or dumb luck, I don’t care. I’m keeping you forever.”
“Good, because I’m not letting you go,” he whispers, kissing me. “We have a long future before us, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Where are we going?” Mackie asks curiously, his eyes sleepy as he watches me drive. I don’t blame him. I kept him up all night, and when I woke up this morning, I had an overwhelming need to do this.
“You’ll see,” I murmur, my hands tightening nervously as I drive. “Nap, baby. I’ll wake you when we get there.”
Nodding, he hums softly and settles deeper into the seat, his eyes closed. I spare him a soft look before focusing on the road. The drive doesn’t take long, but I idle outside, staring at the gate, when Mackie yawns.
“Oh, we’re here?” His smile fades when he looks at the sign. “Conan?”
“There’s someone I want you to meet,” I reveal as I look at him. “If you . . . If you’re okay with that?”
I know he understands, and his face softens as he places his hand on mine. “I’d be honored.”
I slide from the car, and he walks around the front, letting me take it at my pace. For some reason, it feels different than all the other times I’ve been here. “Wait a second.” Mackie hurries to the side, and I tilt my head in confusion before I realize what he’s doing.
When he walks back to me, his hands are filled with a bouquet of wildflowers, and in that moment, I fall even more in love with him.
“Okay, let’s go.” He offers me his hand again, smiling, and I just stare, completely and utterly devoted before I take his hand and lead him inside.
I navigate us to the grave, and once we reach it, I kneel and brush off the debris before taking a deep breath.
“Hi, darling,” I murmur softly. “Sorry it’s been a few weeks, but I’ve been super busy.
I won’t let it happen again. There’s someone I want you to meet.
Your parents gave me their blessing, and I love him, darling.
I’m moving on like you wanted me to.” Turning, I hold out my hand.
Mackie kneels, smiling at the grave. “Hi, I’m Mackie.
I want to thank you for loving Conan and making him such an amazing man.
” He spares me a glassy-eyed look, and tears fill my eyes as I meet his gaze.
“I promise to take care of him and love him for the rest of his life. I wanted you to know that, and that I will never replace you. He tells me about you all the time.” Laying the flowers down gently, he focuses on my husband’s grave.
“You’ll always be his love. I will never take that from you, and when he can’t visit, I will.
I won’t let you be alone, okay? Everyone in our life will know about you. You’ll live on through us. I promise.”
My eyes burn as my lips tremble, and I try to bite back my tears as Mackie turns to me and takes my hand, brushing my tears away. “Thank you for letting me meet him. Thank you for letting me love you and for loving me as well.”
“How could I not?” I croak as I rest my head on his shoulder and look at the grave.
My past and future collide, but I know my husband would be okay with it.
He wouldn’t want me to suffer forever, and he’d like Mackie.
I’ll always love him, but I’m realizing that doesn’t mean I can’t love Mackie too, and I shouldn’t feel guilty about it.
My once broken, forgotten heart has enough room for both of them.
We sit for a while, just talking and telling stories about our lives. Mackie stays with me, listening and asking questions, giving me a safe place to grieve and find myself again.
My perfect sunshine.