Chapter 35
Thirty-Five
Nash swims a full lap before seeing me sitting at the edge of the pool. He’s next to me with four easy strokes, wrapping his wet hands around my calves and kissing each of my knees.
“Morning.” There’s a hint of sleep left in his voice.
I grin like an idiot. “Morning yourself.”
The chill of the water sends goose bumps up my legs. He kisses my knees again. “I’m surprised you have energy to be awake.”
“I could say the same.”
He rumbles with a knowing laugh, squeezing my calves.
At some point while I was watching him sleep, I became completely at peace with how we played out. Maybe we weren’t ready all those years ago, but we might be now. Maybe everything that happened had to happen to get us here.
I’m telling him about Bennie today, but it doesn’t feel so crushing. Mostly because I rehearsed every word I’m going to say, and any logical person would understand why I did what I did.
Every single way I’ve played this out ends with him not hating me. He can’t.
“You do this every morning?”
“You should know,” he teases. “But yeah. Most mornings. Clears my head and wakes me up.”
“Naked?”
He grins. “Never know when it might come in handy.” His eyes drop to my shirt. “You should join me.”
I scoff. “I’m not skinny dipping.”
“But you’ll shower back here?”
Fair.
He rubs his hands along the tops of my thighs.
“Girl I once knew would get naked in all kinds of places. Vineyards. Creeks. Courthouses.” He shrugs.
“She’d think this pool was child’s play.
” I fight my smile. Bastard. “And my backyard has plenty of privacy.” It’s fenced, he’s right.
“And—” His hands slide back up my thighs, higher this time.
“Naked swimming is only fun if there’s company. ”
I bite my lip and can’t find a reason to say no. Truthfully, I want to say yes. I want to get in this pool with him. Because I can. Because I’m here. Because I’ve spent the last eight years not doing anything like this.
Before I know it, my shirt is off, and I’m diving—naked—into Nash’s pool, laughing as I do. I’m barely above water when he grabs hold of me, tangling us together in a bobbed drift. He kisses me, soft.
The perfection of the moment gives me courage. “I have something for you,” I say, tracing the black lines on the six of the thirteen stars inked on his shoulder that are above water.
“A repeat of last night?” he asks. “Because I really like that move where you—”
“Ha. Ha.” I splash water in his face. “No. A surprise.” I swallow.
It’s not a lie: A kid is a surprise. “And I want us to go to dinner so I can give it to you.” And so there are witnesses in case he tries to murder me.
“If you’d like to pick somewhere for us to go.
That you’ll have to pay for because I’m broke. ”
“A surprise?” His brows raise, intrigued as we drift. “What could Rue Conway have for me?”
I force a smile. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
“Well, okay.” He squeezes my hips underwater. “I’ll make a reservation.”
We laugh our way through sunrise with splashes and dunks until our soft kisses turn fevered, and one thing leads to another. We’re out of the pool, my back on the patio and him above me, both of us wearing nothing but the smell of chlorine and a blanket of morning sun.
“Come back to Fontain with me.” I realize how terrible my timing is when he stills over me.
“If you want, I mean. And if we’re staying married.
” How haven’t we had any of these conversations?
It’s like we want to repeat history and ruin this a second time.
I’m more sure of us yet just as scared. “Not that we have to. We can just start over. Or—”
In my ear, he says, “Took you long enough to ask.”
“No matter what?” I ask. Because I need him to say that too. I need to know the reason I ended us won’t be what ruins us.
“Long as you’re married to me.” He kisses me gently. “I don’t ever want to be where you aren’t again.”
He doesn’t wait for me to say anything else before he fills me up, rocking me gently as the concrete scrapes my back. The cries of his name leave my mouth and fly to the sky.