Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
“You do have that calming effect on me. Which is odd, because for literal fucking years, all I wanted to do was knock your perfect goddamn teeth out for being so persistant and trying to weasel your way into a friendship with me.”
He grins. “Do you know how pissed my mom would be if you damaged these teeth? Braces weren’t cheap, even back then. And you know what? Come to think of it, I never did get that friendship out of it.”
“What do you mean? We’re here now, aren’t we?”
He twists his head towards me, giving me a droll look.
“I can guarantee you friends don’t rock each other’s world—and beds—the way we do, babe.
Friends are what you make like the way you have with my brother and Brooks.
No, what you and I have went directly from giving each other bruises on the sparring mat to seeing who can leave more hickies on the other. ”
I snort. “You make it sound like we’re just fuck buddies.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t give me that shit,” Gannett balks.
“You know we’re more than just fuck buddies.
All I’m saying is that we went from barely knowing a damn thing about each other, to us being intricately woven together.
There was never any “buddy-buddy” going on, which is apparently what I wanted all along.
Caleb and Marcus were right. All that time, I was flirting, and I just didn’t see it.
I really didn’t think I ever wanted another relationship. ”
I nod. “And what about another marriage?”
“Are you proposing?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, we’ve just never talked about it before. Not until the girls brought it up earlier.”
“Well, I meant what I said back in the truck. I don’t need, nor do I want, a friggin’ wedding to somehow solidify that fact that I am in love with you.
That’s great for whoever else wants it, but not something I feel is necessary.
I can think of better ways to spend my money, other than renting tuxes—which I fuckin’ hate, by the way—and saying scripted vows. ”
Silence falls between us, nothing is heard but the crackle of fire, as I mull over what he just said.
I notice that I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, probably because he articulated the same exact sentiments regarding marriage as I have.
I don’t need to put on a show for others to prove that I love Gannett.
The only thing I need to do is put in the work to prove it to him.
The fact that that’s all he wants too? Well, I feel like I can breathe a sigh of relief.
“Tell you what I’d like to do instead though, if you’re open to it,” he muses, breaking the silence.
“What’s that?”
His jaw flexes. “I’d like to scrub that Masterson from your name, along with that junior suffix.
Ideally, I’d like it to change to Waters so that everyone knows you’re mine, but beggars can’t be choosers.
” Then, he snorts. “Just know if it’s Gordon, we’re going to have words—because, well, Steven Stephens is still kinda laughable. ”
“I thought you just said you didn’t want to get married,” I note, confused.
“We don’t have to.” He shrugs. “I totally think my parents would agree to adopting you, but that would make things a little, I don’t know, ‘cesty. But there’s always just legally changing your name.
That paperwork I do think would be meaningful, because you’d finally be ridding yourself from that anchor weighing you down. Whaddaya think?”
“I think I’d like that, Gannett.” Then, I smirk. “Gordy Leopold Gordon. It has a ring to it, doesn’t it?”
He guffaws. “You’re such a dick.”
“Yeah,” I tease, “but I’m your dick. Of course I’d choose Waters.”
“Gordy Waters,” he hums, gaze once again fixed on the campfire. “Sounds real goddamned good to me… Do you suppose T-dawg would want to change his name as well?”
“It does to me too, and yeah, I bet he probably would. I love you, Gannett.”
When his eyes meet mine, they’re filled with a sea of emotions, but the one I can make out shining bright through all the others—like a beacon in the night—is honesty.
Pure, unfettered truth. He reaches over and grabs my hand.
“I love you too. I always will, even when calm seas turn into troubled waters and back again. With just you and me here tonight, I vow to you that I will always be there for you, guiding you towards safe harbor.”
I lean over and kiss him. There’s nothing rough or lust-driven about this one.
When our lips meet, my tongue parting his and seeking entry into his mouth, there’s nothing rushed with promises of this leading to anything sexual.
It’s our mouths way of making a promise to each other that neither of us would be able to fully articulate with words coming from them.
When we finally break apart, both of us on the verge of tipping over in our camp chairs, I note, “You know, this feels kind of like a wedding, to be honest.”
He grins. “Yeah, but we did it our way. On the fly and in private. No planning, no guest list, no tuxes. I’m only sorry I didn’t come prepared with cake. I know how much you like your sweets.”
I chuckle. “I actually packed some snack cakes. They’re just inside the camper, and I don’t want to wake the girls.”
“I can be stealthy,” he offers. “Twink should probably go inside anyway, since I doubt you packed him his sweater.”
“Dogs do not need sweaters, Gannett.”
“Yes, they do, Gordy,” he protests. “Wieners need to be wrapped for their own safety sometimes. Look at him, he’s shivering!”
I shake my head, suppressing a laugh. “Go take him inside then.”
When he does, I head to my truck to fish the gift I got for him out of my glove compartment.
I didn’t plan on there being this moment out here tonight, but now seems like the right time to give it to him.
I’ll admit, I’ve been giving some of those videos Madame Noir suggested a peek, specifically the ones regarding collaring.
Since Gannett still likes to covertly attempt wearing that big, obvious one we got at the sex toy shop occasionally, I decided to get him a discreet day collar instead.
All this looks like is a double layered black fabric chain, with a little platinum tube bead with an image of a lighthouse laser engraved on it.
To the untrained eye, this would look just like a regular necklace, but if I slip a finger between the two tiny ropes, I can cinch it up and turn it into a choker.
I figure this could serve in place of a wedding band now, and I surmise that he will never take this off, since he is all about having a physical reminder that he’s mine.
Good thing Madame Noir talked me into getting two, because, for as much as Gannett is mine, I’m also his.
And once we’re done feeding snack cakes to one another, I’ll let him slip this matching one over my head and around my neck as a testament to that.
I’m his. I’m a Waters. I finally feel like I have a purpose in life, and I’m in a place where I belong, with people who have let me in and loved me when I never thought I could be loved again.