Chapter 40
FORTY
SOPHIE
There were moments I was positive I had fallen in love with Colson Weston.
Specific memories I could look back on during our time together when I had just known, when I had felt it, when the emotion had been so palpable that my body was buzzing.
Like the night he had taken me up in the hot-air balloon, and rather than spending the entire evening gazing at the sunset, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
Or the dinner we’d had in the private room at Toro when he told me he trusted me.
Or while we had been at Charred, and he put his arm around my shoulders and reintroduced me to his family, keeping me close because he knew how anxious I was feeling.
Or the times when our dinners hadn’t been enough and we snuck into a hotel room to get lost in each other’s bodies.
And now.
We were on the back of his yacht, under the hardtop canopy, sitting on the sectional that wrapped around the stern, anchored somewhere off the coast of Malibu.
It was just the two of us on this stunning boat, in what felt like the middle of the ocean, with nothing but waves watching us.
A second hadn’t passed that I wouldn’t reminisce about in the future.
Because for every tick of the clock, we were present.
In tune. There was only one thing in our line of sight, and that was each other.
I had thrown on a maxi after we took out the Jet Skis, the ones parked in the back of the boat.
An outfit that didn’t hug my curves but billowed around them.
I wore no makeup. The ocean air had blown my hair; not even a clip could keep the pieces in place.
Yet he looked at me like he’d never seen anything so beautiful.
As if the scenery surrounding us couldn’t compete with the different parts of my face.
His grip deepened, as did his gaze. His fingers, at the top of my bare shoulder, moved to my neck—the side and back—and finally halted at my cheek.
As I leaned into them, his skin so incredibly warm, more stillness passed. “Is there something you want to say?”
“What makes you think that?”
The ocean had affected him, too, but in different ways. There was a glow across his cheeks and a flatness to his hair, as if the sun had melted his gel. And his eyes, typically a light green, had morphed into a baby blue. I liked that they changed. Both colors were so sexy on him.
“The way you’re looking at me—your stare is harder than usual.”
“You know, it’s funny. When I dated in the past, the women I was with, they didn’t like silence, so they filled it. You don’t do that. You let the beats of quietness exist instead of jamming them with weightless words.”
Verbally, yes. But the only time my brain turned off was when I slept.
I replied, “Sometimes, the most powerful moments are the ones where nothing is said.”
“Fuck, I agree.” He moved closer, his arm slipping around my shoulders, both of us facing the water.
“I know our daughters mean everything to us, but there’s something to be said for this.
” When my head rested against his, pressing them together, he continued, “It’s easy to get lost in the day-to-day of parenthood.
I don’t want that to ever happen to us. I don’t want to lose this—time spent together when it’s just us.
” He shook me, emphasizing his point. “I think it’s important. ”
“We need to never stop dating.”
He looked at me, separating our faces. “That’s exactly what I meant. You just said it better.” He smiled.
I found his hand and squeezed it. “My promise to you: even if we’re exhausted, even if life becomes too much, even when it’s easier to say no than yes, we will always have this.”
He searched my eyes, his arm lifting so he could clasp my cheek. “I like when you talk about the future.”
“Yes.” I sucked in some air. “That.”
When I attempted to look away, he stopped me. “Don’t shut down on me, Sophie.”
“It’s not that. It’s just a scary topic to dive into. One that’s extremely unpredictable. But I’ll be honest with you, Colson—with my feelings and desires. I wouldn’t be sitting here if I didn’t want more. I’ve told you that.”
“Tell me … what do you see?”
It suddenly wasn’t so easy to breathe.
“Don’t hold anything back.” He held me tighter. “I want to know what you dream of.”
I slowly nodded. “When Abbi starts school, I want to be able to spend my summers in Lauderdale with my family. Work remotely. Get in a good few months before I come back to the West Coast.”
“What do you want with me?”
I stalled, licking my lips, taking in some of the sun as the boat shifted with the wind, giving me a peek of rays.
“I want another child or two.” Now that my lips were wet, I sucked them in to dry them off.
“I want more than just the children. I want the family, Colson. I love the one I have—I love it in ways no one except the group of guys I grew up with can understand. But I crave something traditional.” My heart was pounding. “I crave something I never had.”
“You want marriage.”
“In the traditional sense, yes.” I paused as my throat quivered.
“But I want the partnership too. The friendship. The companionship. I want the emotional and physical support. I want to share my life with someone.” My head shook.
“I want to have meaningful conversations like this about wants and needs. Goals.” I was still gripping his fingers, and I lifted them to my chest. “I want to dream together, not apart.”
“A husband who’s your best friend.”
I nodded, probably a little too aggressively. “Yes.”
“And those children—do you want to adopt them?”
“At least one more, I would. But I would also like to birth one. To experience each stage of pregnancy. I don’t feel like I missed that with Abbi.
I’ve said numerous times, I feel as though she grew inside me—that’s how connected we are.
But those are just sensations because there’s nothing more important to me than my daughter.
If it’s possible—medically, physically—I would like to make those sensations a reality.
” I left his hand on my chest, and mine went instinctively to my stomach.
“If it doesn’t happen, I’m okay with that too.
With Abbi, I have everything I never knew I wanted. ”
“You’re going to get everything you want.” He aligned our faces, his exhales hitting my skin. “Everything. Do you hear me?”
“You want it too?”
“With you, yes. And more.”
A shuddering breath left my lips. “You want more children?”
“Two. Three.” He smiled. “Even four would do.”
I laughed, and, oh God, it felt good. “Four might be over my limit.”
He kissed me. An embrace that was all lips and breath and unspoken vows. And when his head reared back, keeping his face near mine, he whispered, “What about a stepdaughter? How would you feel about that?”
My eyes closed. “I would love Ellie so hard.”
I already do.
He slid me against his chest, his mouth pressing against the top of my head. “Of course, there will be some logistics we have to work out.”
“Like?”
“You have your house. I have mine. How do we blend those?”
I laughed against the hardness of his pecs. “You’re already talking about moving in together—don’t get me wrong, I’m all for the idea. It’s just that we haven’t even told the girls yet.” I wiggled my way out of his hug so I could look at him.
“I think as parents, we had to make sure, even though we wanted more, that this could work between us. I realize I’m speaking for myself here, but in my mind, there’s no question.”
“Not in mine either.”
He combed the side of my hair. “We don’t have to live together right away. Once the girls know, we won’t have to sneak off to hotels. We can stay at each other’s place. Shit, we don’t want any unexpected surprises, but the girls will know that you’ll be in my bed, and I’ll be in yours.”
The horror of either child seeing anything in those bedrooms made me want to shiver. Abbi never had boundaries when it came to my room—there was no need to have that conversation. That would be one of the many changes we would have to embrace. Ironically, it was a change I couldn’t wait for.
“When we get to the point where neither of us wants to go back to our own homes, we’ll have to figure out who is moving in with whom,” he said.
“Your house is much bigger than mine.”
“But your house is beautiful.”
“It is,” I agreed. I let the idea sit for a few seconds before I said, “What if I rent mine out for a year and we move in with you? If the rental doesn’t become a headache, we keep it going. Or we sell it, and we sell yours, and we buy something together?”
“I like that plan.” He kissed me. This time, it was slow, lingering, and I could smell the ocean on his skin, which made me want to go in even deeper. “How big is your place in Fort Lauderdale?” he asked after I pulled away.
I shook my head, laughing. “Certainly not big enough for all the kids we want to have.”
Colson was grilling steak, shrimp, and corn on the cob on the back of the boat.
I was inside, in the kitchen, cutting vegetables for a salad and slicing the baguette we’d picked up from the bakery.
Food had been our only stop before we boarded.
I appreciated that he hadn’t brought a chef, that he’d decided to keep it just us.
Regardless of having the captain’s quarters off the stern, the boat wasn’t soundproof.
And I loved that I didn’t have to be quiet.
I carried both items to the table outside, where Colson was slicing the steak. I scooped some salad onto his plate, along with a few pieces of baguette. He did the same to my plate with both proteins and the corn. My last trip inside was to grab a bottle of wine, and I filled each of our glasses.
Within a bite, I moaned, “This is excellent.”
The steak didn’t even have to be chewed; it just melted.