Chapter Ten #3
“Why? Most people who feel that way are afraid of being left behind, but that doesn’t seem like it fits for you, since your parents went to great lengths to be with you.”
“I don’t really know why I’m this way. I just know that being needed has always felt good. But needing someone else has always felt like a weakness.”
I want to tell him that needing someone isn’t a weakness, it’s human, because that’s what a therapist told me when I went to see her after Cody left me at the altar.
But the words won’t come, because I know what it feels like to build walls out of competence, to hide behind the safety of self-reliance.
And worse, I know the cost of letting someone in and being left waiting to start a future that never comes.
“I feel that way, too,” I finally say.
“No wonder we’re so good together,” he says easily, and kisses me. “Now it’s your turn, sweets. Did you have big childhood dreams?”
I wanted to see the world. Every country, forgotten cities, all the small towns that most people overlooked.
I wanted to see sunrises from mountains and sunsets from beaches, to walk dirt paths that have been worn by generations and touch walls carved by hands centuries before mine.
I want to collect moments in all those places that can only be felt and not seen.
I want to share all of that with him right now, but it’s all tied to my mother, and I’m not going to let thoughts of her drag us down again.
“I had a few. When I was seven, I wanted to be a ballet dancer, because a girl in my class was taking lessons and she had cute ballet shoes. My parents signed me up, but unlike you, Mr. Dedicated, halfway through the first class, I decided it was too much hard work and not enough play time, so that didn’t last long. ”
He laughs. “You just had other priorities.”
“That’s being generous. The thing is, I realized I didn’t even want the shoes.
I wanted to draw them. And as far as other dreams went, mine changed all the time.
” Until after my mother left, when they pretty much came to a standstill.
“But one thing stayed consistent. I wanted to draw everything I saw, and not only objects like ballet shoes. I’d see places on TV or on the internet, exotic locations or small towns, and I’d imagine what those places would look like and feel like if I were there, and I’d draw them. ”
“Is that what you do with your graphic design work?”
“For the most part. I can’t help but put an emotional spin on the things I’m hired to draw.”
“Will you draw the places and things we’ve seen this weekend?” he asks thoughtfully.
“Yes, at some point. When an unfairly handsome man isn’t distracting me. Not that I’m complaining.”
He grins. “Want to know what I think?”
“Always.”
“I think you’re a collector. The way you look at the world, it’s like you collect sights and capture moments before they can slip away.”
Something tender curls in my chest at how clearly he sees me. “I guess that’s my way of holding on to the sweeter things in life.” The things that give without taking.
“I’m going to show you so many sweet things.” He kisses me. “Tomorrow we’ll go Jet Skiing, and I’ll show you a hidden cove I know you’ll love. Then we’ll explore the caves and fill up that creative well of yours with unbelievable sights.”
I know how much he loves caving, and my heart fills to the brim knowing he wants to share it with me.
He brushes a strand of hair from my cheek, his fingers lingering there. “But right now, you don’t have to hold on,” he says, his voice low. “Just be with me.”
It’s in this moment, lying in his arms, moonlight casting shadows over us, that I can no longer hide from the truth. I was falling for this beautiful man well before I set eyes on him in person. As he brushes his lips over mine, I whisper, “There’s no place I’d rather be.”
His fingers skim along my jaw as our mouths come together in a slow, sensual kiss that floods me with desire.
The slide of his palm over my ribs sends a shiver through me as he takes the kiss deeper.
Somewhere between one kiss and the next, everything magnifies—the feel of my dress peeling away from my body, his linen pants sliding against my skin as he strips them off, our heated kisses as we finish undressing, and the cool air skating over my nakedness.
Every breath, every touch, feels powerful enough to rewrite our beginning.
I cling to that as he moves over me, cocooning me in his warmth.
His mouth comes devouringly down over mine as our bodies come together with a familiarity that feels excruciatingly right.
He buries himself so deep inside me, nothing can come between us, and his hips still.
My body embraces every inch of him, and I know I’ll feel him for days.
He breaks the kiss, gazing reverently into my eyes, and whispers, “Ellie,” like it’s the most treasured word he knows.
He lowers his face beside mine, his scruff tickling my cheek, his warm breath coasting over my neck as he says, “I thought my siblings were out of their minds, falling in love so fast. But I think I’m starting to understand how it happened. ”
My heart swells to near bursting. There are so many things I want to say—I love you.
I’m really Taylor Mitchell. I’m sorry—but the ache of wanting more and the dread of knowing it can never be intertwine in one torturous truth, stealing my ability to form a single word.
Closing my eyes against the emotions swamping me, I press my lips to his shoulder, and there beneath the stars, on this night I’ll never forget, I swallow the guilt and the pain of losing what I’ve only just found and give myself over to this incredible man, dissolving into the rhythm of us one last time.