Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
Delilah
We ride in silence, my hands curled loosely around his waist. The routine is the same: he dismounts, opens the gate. I drive us through. He latches it and climbs back on. When we arrive in the clearing, the sun is beating down on my shoulders, turning them pink. The air is so thick you could swim in it. I’m tempted to strip and run for the dark, cool river, but I force myself to sit in the discomfort. I’m realizing that I have to learn how to get through tough moments like this if I ever want to have anything worthwhile.
So I’m starting here, with Truett and me. Hoping that the outcome really can be different from my father and Lucy if I lay all my cards on the table now.
Truett leads me through the tall switchgrass to the sandy beach that forms the shoreline. We sit side by side, our thighs touching with every shift, fingertips brushing in the sun-warmed sand behind us.
He’s quiet. Contemplative. Anxiety churns my stomach as I wait for him to make the first move.
He gathers a handful of sand and slowly lets it spill from between his fingers. When he finally speaks, his voice is raw. Weary. “So, Edgewood. That’s a swanky place.”
I focus on that sand rather than my words. Rather than his face, so guarded against what I might say. “I know. It’s— well, I never thought I’d be able to afford a place like it. But he deserves nothing less than the best. It’d be a lot harder to let him go if it were anywhere else.”
Guilt still weighs on me, pressing on my lungs like a vise. Knowing it’s the right thing to do doesn’t make it any easier.
As if he knows this, Truett nudges my shoulder with his. When I glance up, his gaze is soft. Full of understanding. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve helped.”
“I know you would’ve.” I purse my lips, studying a ripple in the glassy surface of the water. “And this is only a temporary solution. It gets him in, but I still need to figure out the long-term costs. He could live another decade, you know.” A decade. So long when it comes to costs, yet so short when you’re talking about a life. “But my grandparents left a good amount of money for me when they died. They wanted me to use it to have this big fancy wedding. The full-blown Southern affair that they never got to throw for my mother.”
Tru scoffs. “You’d hate that.”
“Right?” I widen my gaze, feeling vindicated. “I would hate that. I’d have done it for them, I guess, if they were still alive. But they aren’t. And that money would go to much better use to help me now, with Dad.”
“I don’t suppose your mom agreed?”
“Not exactly.” I swallow, trying to sink the stone weighing on my chest, but it won’t budge. So I go on, breathless. “After everything she’s done, everything I’ve learned… I know she was hurt. I can’t blame her for that. But she had no right to hurt me in turn, to make it my problem that her life didn’t go the way she planned. No ri ght to lie and try to manipulate me into putting her first. I realized that if we were ever going to have hope of repairing our relationship, I needed her to show me that she could put those feelings aside and really listen to me. Trust me to make the right decision.
“I was running at first, Tru. You’re right about that. But I realized this was something I needed to do on my own. And before you object, I know that I don’t have to do everything alone. I get that. You’d be happy to know I let Alicia witness the entire conversation with my mom and only regretted it the tiniest bit.” I let my gaze float up, capturing the few clouds blotting out an otherwise clear sky. A billowing array of starlings burst from the trees to dance across my vision, putting on a show. Their distant calls to each other join with the babbling river to create the soundtrack of my revelation. “Dad and I, we’re so much the same. More than I ever realized. I think I needed to understand just how much in order to let go. To accept that it’s not my place to force him to stay at home. That this is a gift he’s giving me. One that no one ever gave him.”
A strong, calloused hand finds my bare knee. I’m still wearing the yellow sundress I had on for the tour. It’s riding up, exposing the length of my thigh. For a moment my gaze catches there, mesmerized by the sight of his skin against mine.
Tears blur my vision, stealing away that beautiful patchwork. All the places our edges match up. “I shouldn’t have cut you out like that. I was panicking. Thinking I’d fucked everything up because I dared to let myself cut loose for one night. I felt like I didn’t deserve him or you, if I could be so irresponsible.”
I blink, and a tear escapes. Soon my cheeks are slick with them. They fall silently, save for a hiccup of air passing over my lips every few seconds when I forget to breathe.
I don’t see him lean close, but I feel his breath on my ear. His lips on the hollow beneath as he whispers, “I’m proud of you, you know that? ”
I turn to him, brows furrowed. He can’t possibly mean that. But he does. It’s there in his earnest gaze, his parted lips. In the way he releases my knee to stroke my cheek instead.
“How? Why? ”
“Why not?” He lets out a breathy chuckle. He shakes his head slowly, lips curved into a soft smile. “You are notoriously selfless. To a fault, sometimes? Sure. But I love that about you. Love everything about who you are.” He snags his bottom lip and holds. Like he’s waiting for me to bolt because he used the word love, but it has the opposite effect. I can’t run because I’m growing roots. They’re sprouting from everywhere we touch, and everywhere we don’t. A life blooming in what is and what could be.
When I don’t object, he sucks in a breath and pushes on. “Helping your dad do this on his terms was exactly that. Selfless. But doing it the way you needed to? Standing up to your mother in the process?” He peers up at the treetops, where that flock of starlings has settled. His words fade to nothing more than the scrape of flint against steel, igniting a feeling in my heart that’s impossible to ignore. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. You’re remarkable, Temptress. Don’t ever forget that.”
I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. It’s impressed upon my heart. Eternal.
Love is a lot of things. It’s reckless when you want to be careful. Gentle when the world is anything but. It’s choosing a life you’d never want for yourself, because you have a little girl on the way with someone you just met. It’s kissing your best friend beneath a willow tree in a quiet meadow in the forest. Taking them back there after life got in the way, only to find those feelings never really left.
Love is a cowboy with strong hands and a gentle heart guiding a new calf safely into the world. Holding his mother’s hand as she left it. It’s that same cowboy finding me when I’m trying so hard to be lost. Showing me the way back home.
Love is this moment, and every other we’ve shared. The threads that bind our years together. Our entire lives.
It’s the gift of the truth, so I say the truest thing I know.
“I love you, Truett. I always have, I think. Since that very first day when we rolled down the hill in front of your house.”
He holds his breath for a beat too long. I’m beginning to think I’ve entirely misjudged the moment when he chuckles quietly. “You managed to dodge the cow patties that time.”
“Because you didn’t have any cows yet! It’s hard, okay?” Laughter spills out of me in torrents, a rival to the rain of my tears. I lean into him, nestling my forehead in the curve of his neck. “You ruined me for everybody else.”
He angles toward me and threads a hand through my hair, holding me tightly. A heavy sigh rolls over his lips and onto mine, and his gaze settles there. “Is this the part where you rip my heart out by telling me you love me but you can’t stay?”
The pain in those words hollows me out. I cover his hand in my hair with my own and shake my head softly. “That’s the thing. I’m not leaving.”
He pulls away slightly, eyes widening. “You’re not?”
“No.” I bite my lip. Nerves wring my stomach. He hasn’t said he wants this, not really. But I have to trust my instincts when they tell me it’s worth it to take this leap. “You were right, you know. About this place. It’s where I belong. Where I’ve always belonged. I’m not my mother, much to her chagrin. I like it here. Love it, in fact.” I drop my hand to rest against his chest. His heartbeat pounds against my palm, as fast as my own. I let that give me the strength I need to add, “This is not an obligation to you, by the way. Just because I’m staying doesn’t mean?—”
“ Fuck an obligation. ” One hand moves from my hair to my waist, the other tossing his baseball cap before finding my other hip and hauling me into his lap in one smooth motion. We’re face-to-face, eye to eye. I can feel his desire swell beneath me, pressed against my core. I roll my hips instinctively, and he hisses in response. When his eyes meet mine once more, they’re glazed in sweet sadness. The kind that is a prologue to relief. “You are all I’ve ever wanted, Temptress. You’re every dream I’ve had, every damn hope for my future. Even when I thought you were lost to me, I prayed for you. Swore my soul to whoever would take it if you’d just come back home so I could say I was sorry. Tell you what I’d always known was true but was too scared to say when we were kids. I love you, Delilah. I’m so damn gone for you, it’s insane. You will never be an obligation to me. You’re my whole world.”
He doesn’t wait for a response. His fingertips dig into my hips as he surges into me, covering my mouth with his. I can taste the sugar of his words on his tongue, the truthfulness in his every breath. We ebb and we flow, as practiced at this dance as the river that flows behind us. We carve notches into each other meant only for us, so that no other will ever fit like this. Like us.
Truett and I were made for each other. Written in the stars long before we came to be. We’re the best of our parents, and also entirely ourselves. Their unfinished love story and our very own that’s just getting started, all rolled into one.
His hands climb the lattice of my spine. If the sun was heating my skin before, his touch is burning me alive. He finds the ties of my straps on my shoulders and tugs them free. His lips replace them, tracing the path from my sloped shoulder to my collarbone to the hollow at the base of my throat. His tongue laps at that hollow, stealing my breath. My thighs tremble against his hips. Pleasure dips low in my stomach. I want him. I’ve never wanted anything more.
Truett’s fingers slip beneath the cups of the dress’s corset top and tug it down, freeing my breasts. He captures them in his wide grasp, and I tip my head back, sucking in a breath. I feel his lips press into the swell of my cleavage. His hands dip lower, scooping me into his waiting mouth. His tongue flicks over my nipple, drawing it to its peak; then he closes his lips around me and sucks.
I’m grateful we’re tucked away in the woods, because my moan could alert the entire farm.
“Yes, Tru. Fuck. ”
“Is that a compliment or a command? ’Cause I’ll take either.”
“Can’t it be both?” I sigh. When I glance down, I swear the man smiles against my breast. He tugs at me with his teeth, then releases me to move to the other nipple and repeat the same ministrations.
I’m desperate for more of this. More of him. I find the hem of his shirt and tug, forcing us apart for a moment only to come back together stronger, with no barriers between his chest and my peaked nipples.
He cradles my back as he flips us and lays me down in the soft sand. My hair splays out beneath me, and I giggle. “I’ll never get this sand out of all my nooks and crevices.”
“I’ll lick it off you. Or better yet”—he stands and kicks his boots into the grass—“I’ll take you for a swim and get you all cleaned up.”
As he undoes his belt and fly, I slip the Keds from my feet, stained as they’ve become. “I’ve really got to get some other shoes.”
He hooks his thumbs in his waistband and winks. “Whatever you want, consider it yours.”
I pull the hem of my dress higher, higher, higher. His gaze tracks the movement, heady with desire. When I reach the peak of my thighs, I pause with only the lacy edge of my panties on display. “Does that apply to anything, or just shoes?”
I watch the column of his throat work. He shudders, and it ripples through every muscle in his abdomen, making me wish he’d rip the pants off already so I could watch that shiver travel south.
“Anything, Temptress. I’m all yours.”
Then he gives me everything.
His cock is so hard for me, and I ache for it, feeling suddenly so empty without him inside me. He fists it and squeezes at the base, a groan ripping from his throat. When he kneels before me, I reach out to swipe the bead of cum from his tip and lick it from my finger with a hum of satisfaction.
He blanches, his jaw impossibly taut. “Now is a very bad time to mention I do not have a condom.”
A wicked smile tugs at my lips. I slip a hand beneath the lace of my underwear, sampling my wetness, and swirl it over my throbbing clit. “Good thing I’ve got an IUD and a clear bill of health.”
His gaze darkens. “Are you sure, Delilah? I’ll run back to the house right now and grab one. Or, better yet, take you with me so we can do it there.”
I arch my back just as a cool breeze kisses my breasts and sigh. “No, I like it here. You look good wearing nothing but sunshine.”
“Wanna take that dress off so I can say the same?”
I giggle, thumbing the fabric where it’s gathered at my waist. My hips roll into my other hand, the one still stroking my clit in slow circles, which only pushes the dress higher. “I mean, it’s kinda like sunshine, don’t you think?”
“Almost,” he says with a wink. “But I’d have to see both to be sure.”
“Fair.” I reluctantly remove my hand from my panties and grab the hem of the dress, yanking it over my head. I’m just about to toss it aside when Truett plucks it from my grasp and lays it out behind me, giving me a soft place to recline onto, a barrier from the sand. I sprawl on the dress, bathed in the light, as he tugs my panties down my legs and discards them with the pile of his clothes.
“I’m good, too, by the way.” His brows lift. “All clear, if you’re sure.”
I reach for his waist and pull him toward me, lifting my hips to open myself for him. “I’m sure, Tru. I want all of you. Please.”
I don’t mean for it to come out so high-pitched, so needy, but that evidence of my desire does something to him. Snaps a tether in his spine that held him back. He folds over me, elbow coming down beside my head while his other hand lines his cock up with my entrance. I feel him there, his head sweeping through my slick center, stoking the flame so high I nearly combust from this alone.
“Please, baby,” I whine. “I need you.”
The hand by my head sweeps my hair behind my ear, and he kisses me there. Our chests are flush, all heat and sweat and heaving breaths. The sky is endless above us, the same gray-blue as his eyes. They find me, so full of a tenderness I’ve never seen up close.
He rocks into me, stealing my breath. Cinching my heart. My body arches, reaching for him, and he meets me with every thrust.
It’s so different from our first time. So sweet and slow and rhythmic. We make music together. A melody all our own.
His tongue flicks against my throat. My jaw. My earlobe. “See? I can be gentle, too.” He buries himself to the hilt. Rolls his hips so I feel him everywhere. “I can be everything you need if you’ll let me.”
“I want you. All of you.”
I drag my fingernails down his back, and the groan that escapes his throat is guttural. His thrusts falter in their rhythm. His jaw ticks. He’s losing this carefully crafted control, and I’m desperate for it. Need it as much as I need the hot summer air filling my lungs .
I dig my heels into his ass and arch, grinding myself against him. His lids flicker shut, his lips part as he holds himself still, letting me take what I need. “Fuck, baby.”
“Give it to me,” I growl.
When his eyes flash open, they’re twin storm clouds, and his voice is the thunder. “Yes, ma’am.”
He loses himself in me like I hoped he would. He thrusts wildly; he bites at my flesh. I carve my nails through every inch of him I can reach, when I’m not blindly gasping for air. Every moment without him is too long. Every second he fills me is impossibly short.
“ More. More. More, ” I chant. And more is what he gives me.
“I’m gonna fill you with my cum, Temptress. Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” I groan. I spit onto my finger and find my clit throbbing, pulsing with need. I stroke it in time with his thrusts. An orgasm builds in my core, coiling impossibly tight until I’m nothing but the need. The want. The ecstasy. “Fuck!”
“That’s right, baby. Now ride my cock.”
Tru pauses his thrusts and turns control over to me, and I arch off the ground, doing as he says. I ride him, circling my clit and humming his name in a breathless cry as wave after wave of the orgasm ripples through me. He watches me, utterly rapt, as I take everything I want from his body. And then, when my legs give out, he grabs my ankles and hauls them to his shoulders, tightening them against his neck. His fingers dig into my thighs as he rocks forward, lifting my hips from the ground, and rails into me with everything he’s got.
“Fuck. Fuck. ” His thrusts come undone and so does he. His cock tightens within me, his shoulders going equally taut, and then I feel a warmth I’ve never known coat my core. He fills me up, eyes closed, head tipped back. When at last he shudders loose and slips from me, I feel his cum dripping from my entrance and coating my thighs. It’s a mess. And now that I’ve had it, I can’t imagine it any other way.
Truett collapses onto me, but his weight is a comfort. An anchor. I lace my arms together at the base of his spine and nuzzle into his shoulder, inhaling the scent of him. Fresh air, sweat, and the sweet musk of vetiver all at once.
“If I’m remarkable,” I mutter against his skin, “then what does that make you?”
He cranes his neck till there’s only a breath between us, then smiles like a new day born. “Yours. I’m yours.”
I smile limply, every muscle in me languid after my release. Even the ones responsible for my joy, and joy is what I’m feeling. I glance up at the sky, the same that bore witness to my life splintering apart nine years ago. It feels impossible to be this close to whole again. To have these pieces of my life returned to me, imperfect and all the better for it.
Dad was wrong. Yes, his disease has a cost. He’s losing his independence. His career. So many years off his life. But it has not cost him my forgiveness, because he never needed it. What he needed was to be understood for perhaps the first time in his life. For me to see him for who he is, not to me or my mother or even Truett, but to himself, before it is too late.
I hope I’ve given him that, just as he’s given this to me.
Truett laces his fingers through mine and stands, pulling me to my feet and toward the water. The cold steals my breath at first, but soon it is soothing the ache in my trembling thighs, the stinging pink sunburn on my shoulder blades. We submerge ourselves completely, and when I break the surface once more, I feel free for the first time in my life.
His arm loops around my waist and pulls me close. I feel every hard muscle, every soft bit of flesh. I feel his desire for me returning as his gaze finds mine once more.
“What if I forget you one day?” I blurt out. The fear, buried deep in my heart after my initial research, has floated through the doors my confessions have blown open. Try as I might, I can’t ignore it any longer.
His brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
“My dad’s dementia. It’s hereditary.” I lick the river water from my lips. Biding my time. “Would you still want to be with me, knowing that’s a possibility?”
Add this to the list of things I love about Truett: He doesn’t answer right away. Doesn’t spew out pretty words to make me feel better. He thinks about it. Really considers what he wants to say. And though I feel like I might vomit with the anxiety of it all, I’m grateful to know he isn’t making this decision lightly.
When his lips finally part, a water droplet hangs from his Cupid’s bow. It falls to the river below, not lost but forever changed.
I know the feeling.
“Henry once told me that when his mom was near the end, she talked a lot about her childhood. Asked for her siblings, her parents. She forgot everything else but that.”
I look up at him, at the face I know as well as my own. He smiles.
“When you think about your childhood, who do you see?”
An odd question. Not what do you see, but who. I close my eyes and allow myself to drift back through the years. I see my dad, pushing me in the swing that once hung from the live oak out front. I see my mom working on spreadsheets at the breakfast nook when I walked in after school. I see the fields dotted with cattle, their bellows the soundtrack that lulled me to sleep.
And in the background of every memory? There is Truett. He’s standing back, waiting for his turn on the swing. He’s right behind me, his foot hitting the squeaky floorboard as we tumble into the kitchen in search of after-school snacks. He’s running through the fields, chasing down a stubborn steer, a wild grin spread across his face.
A tear streams from my eye. I blink my way back into the present, and when our gazes meet, I’m looking at my past and present and future all in one.
“I see you. Always you.”
The pad of his thumb is coarse against my skin. As quickly as the tear appeared, it’s gone. “Exactly. I’ll be with you till the very end, Delilah. And if ever there’s a time where you can’t remember, I’ll do it for both of us. I promise.”
My toes sink into the sandy bottom of the river as I lift up, closing the distance between us. Goose bumps dance on the surface of my skin, and on his in turn. Every touch is electrified by the cold. By the hope. By the beauty and pain of his promise. We embrace each other just as we embrace an uncertain future. Wholeheartedly and without fear.
A breeze filters through the clearing, spurring the leaves on the willow tree to dance. The water ripples around us. Not too far away, a steer lets out a long bellow, reminding us of his presence. Truett’s tongue slips between my lips and caresses mine. Our lives shift, changing for the better, even as the world goes on turning around us.
It’s a memory worth holding on to, so I tuck it into my heart for safekeeping, knowing that if a day comes when I can no longer recall it, Truett will be there to give it back to me. He’ll take care of me.
Always.