Fifty
FIFTY
Bea
T ag was quiet as he got a fire glowing in the fireplace.
The mountain temperatures were chilly at night even in the late summer. Perfect for a small fire. I plopped down on the couch, curious as to why he had grown oddly quiet. He had been excited, chatting my ear off, but now he seemed stoic—lost in deep thought. He squatted near the hearth, the poker still in his hand. But his eyes stared through the fire.
“What are you thinking about, Tag?”
He startled. “Uh, yeah, I—I need to say something.” He stood and slowly made his way to the couch, sitting a safe distance from me. He ran his hand through his locks, lightly gripping his hat hair. “I feel really stupid. I should’ve said something before. About us bein’ alone up here. I, uhm, well…”
His face bloomed with a full blush.
I waited.
“I didn’t know what you were expecting and—I probably should’ve communicated what I was, or am, expecting. I’ve never…” He gripped his hair again, turning his face from me in embarrassment. “Shit. Sorry. ”
“You’re fine. Take your time.”
“I’ve—I’ve never had a romantic relationship…ever.”
Understanding dawned, but I let him continue.
“I don’t plan to be, uhm, intimate for the first time…until…” He swiped his hand over his face, wanting to hide. My throat tightened. He picked up speed, trying to power through the explanation. “I have work to do on myself before that side of things comes into play.” He softly cussed in frustration. “I’m probably not makin’ sense.”
“You're making perfect sense.”
He glanced at me.
I continued, “The first time might…bring up a lot.”
He nodded, visible relief washing over his face. “I need to talk through some stuff with Miss Simone. I should’ve told you?—”
“Tag.”
He stopped.
“There is zero pressure to do anything. We don’t have to hug, kiss, or even hold hands if you don’t want to.” A soft laugh escaped my throat. “I had no expectations when I suggested the cabin. I just wanted to get away and not have to share you with my family.”
His shoulders dropped on an exhale. His quiet thank you made my heart squeeze in pain. I loved this man so much. He had no idea. I’d wait as long as he needed. I couldn’t think too deeply about the significance of his trust or I’d fall apart all over again.
“Tag, look at me.”
His gaze found mine, but not without some effort. The red on his face still raged, and I could see the internal battle waging through the windows to his soul.
“I am not rushed. But I’m not holding back either. We can go your speed in this.”
He nodded, his hand reaching between us—an invitation.
I slipped my fingers into his.
“I love you.” He whispered. “I was afraid all that might make you think I don’t.”
“I don’t think that at all. I promise.”
He squeezed my hand and pulled me across the couch to him, settling his arm around my back and waist—his hand finding movement against my skin.
Gracious.
Rebelliously, my nerves came alive. I would wait for his cues in our physical relationship because I loved him. But, goodness, I wanted all his kisses right now. Not egging him on would take a lot of self-control on my end. Especially if his hand kept on slipping under the hem of my shirt.
My breathing went ragged and heat pooled in my belly as his hand danced up my bare side. I swallowed against the urge to kiss him. I had to look away, letting my eyes find the fire instead and forcing them not to admire the slope of his perfect pink lips or the way his stubble tapered down his neck.
“Bea.”
“Yes?” I kept staring at the flames.
“I don’t even have to ask. I know exactly what you’re thinkin’.”
“What?”
“You’re wonderin’ when we’ll kiss again.”
I playfully swatted his chest. “That’s rather presumptuous. How could you know such a thing?”
His voice, deeper and husky, leaned and whispered over my ear. “Because you licked your lips.”
My breathing stopped completely as tension prickled down my arms and legs. Did I really lick my lips? And he saw? Heat rose into my own face. I laughed into the palms of my hands, spreading my fingers over my face in embarrassment.
He chuckled, bumping my shoulder with his. “I was right, wasn’t I?”
“Shut up.” I bumped him back harder.
With a full laugh, he twisted, slipping one arm behind my back and a hand behind my knee. As he sat back, he pulled me, forward-facing, over his lap. I gasped in surprise when we were face to face, gazing into each other’s eyes, my legs settled on either side of him.
He whispered, his lips just inches from mine. “I can’t have you thinkin’ I don’t wanna kiss you. Since that day in the rain, all I’ve wanted is to touch and taste you again. ”
The smile melted from my face as his words seared like hot iron on my insides. Touch and taste me? I was coming apart in his lap. The urgency I felt for him was deep and burning, sending buckets of tingles into my veins.
“Don’t overthink this ‘cause of what I said, alright?”
I nodded, watching his mouth as he talked.
“I plan to kiss you a lot this weekend, Bea Thompson.” He moved closer. His lips were so close they brushed mine as he spoke. “You better make peace with that right here and now.”
“Done. Peace made.”
I didn’t see his smile—I felt it. His lips stretched against mine for the briefest second before they softened again, pliable and pleading. Then he kissed me like he had all the time in the world. His hands threaded into my loose hair. He kissed my bottom lip, then my top, my cheeks, my nose, my eyes. He gently explored me, turning my desire up notch by notch until I was practically crying waiting for the man to really kiss me. I whimpered in impatience when he pulled back.
His gaze drank in my strained expression and an amused smile toyed at his lips. Then his hands slipped around my waist and pulled me flush against him.
His mouth opened over mine and the heat of our kiss exploded. There was passion in his tongue and fire in his hands. I was dizzy with love and drunk on his hunger—incapable of doing anything but responding to his demands. We met each other move for move, touch for touch, kiss for kiss.
After a while, he turned us and pressed me flat onto the couch. Over me, his kiss was claiming. He led the way—tenderly, passionately, desperately.
My hands traveled down the plane of his back as tears filled my eyes.
He had loved me for years. His kiss told the story.
I love you. I wanted to say it but couldn’t.
I love you so much. I let my kiss speak.
I’ll never stop giving you everything. I let desire grow.
When we finally pulled apart, tapped the brakes, and put some distance between us, the flames on the hearth were losing steam, the gray ash pile growing.
Tag quietly whispered, “What the hell just happened?”
I gave a breathy laugh and smoothed my roughed-up appearance. Adjusting my shirt, I said, “I don’t know, but I’m down for round two any time.”
Tag laughed, placing his hand on his chest as he did. He paused and his eyes lingered on the dying fire. “Man, I’m starving.”
A few minutes later, we scrounged around the kitchen, pigged out on late night snacks like raccoons in a dumpster, and laughed until our sides hurt. Something about our fresh, new love made me feel high. I leaned into slapstick comedy, cracked jokes, and poked fun at Tag until his laugh turned into the soft squeaking sound I adored.
It was the night of our lives.
Incredibly, the kisses and laughter weren’t even the best part. A long time later, we found ourselves out on the chilly porch, soaking in the hot tub, whispering about the things in his past. We cried, held hands, and looked at the stars.
The intimacy we found in those moments—our fingers entwining underwater, the steam mingling with the tears on our faces, our trust building one minute at a time—far surpassed the exchange of a kiss or the rush of desire.
Exchanging our hearts, we built on our foundation—the one we started fourteen years ago in the hayloft.
And I knew, sitting there, looking into the boundless mountain sky, our love would be forever .
We lost track of time.
It was early morning now, but we didn’t care. Tag had stoked the fire a couple hours ago, and I laid across the couch with my head in his lap. My damp hair was swept to the side, the loose braid he’d weaved slowly undoing because I didn’t bother to find a rubber band.
I whispered, “So, it was the Coke?”
“Yeah.” He swept the tips of his fingers down my arm, tickling my skin. “I drank Coke as a kid, but it’s been years since I’ve had one.”
“It took you back? Like, triggered you or something?”
He nodded. “I have these moments where I'm forced to live it all over again. Sometimes I feel like my body is back in the moment but my mind isn’t, other times I just feel afraid and don't know why, and then like the time with the Coke, I relived that particular memory as if...as if it was seriously happenin’ right then.”
“Were you aware at all?”
“Yeah, that's the weird thing. I was—vaguely. I kept feelin’ like someone else was with us.” From my vantage point, I had a view of his neck, chin, and adam's apple. Not only did I hear his voice—I felt it, rumbling through his stomach and vibrating in my ears.
He continued, “Miss Simone officially diagnosed me with PTSD after I finished some screenings.”
“How do you feel about a diagnosis like that?”
He tilted his head to the side, lifting a shoulder. “I'm not exactly...happy about it, but I think it's gonna help me understand myself a lot better, and be better for you”—he glanced down at me with a smile—“and that I am happy about.”
He ran his fingers down my arm with renewed vigor. “Speaking of, we need to discuss some things.”
I nodded, knowing already what topic he'd broach.
“I want to be close to you, Bea. The idea of long distance is?—”
“Gutting.”
“Yeah.” He ran his fingers down my arm, stopped at my hand, and entwined our fingers. Shadows danced across his face as the logs in the fire slowly turned to embers once again. “I was thinkin’…if I sold Meadowbrook?—”
I bolted upright so fast our heads would've crashed together if he hadn’t reared back.
“Sold Meadowbrook?!”
“Bea, calm down. Just listen.”
I sucked in a breath, forcing myself not to comment.
“If I sold Meadowbrook and only kept four or five of the horses, I would have a hefty sum of money. I’d need to pay off a few lingerin’ debts and put some into savings, but I’d still have a lot to work with. I could…buy something out here. It’d essentially be startin’ over, but I was thinkin’ something small scale. Like five acres or so. And my main gig would be trainin’—that was what started the rodeo stuff anyway. I had a knack for it. Now, I’m spread so thin, I don’t get the chance to train anymore…”
He continued but my mind had melted into slush. I didn't hear the rest of his thoughts. I could only gape at him.
“Bea? Say something.”
I shook my head, trying to jerk myself back into a focus. “Let—let me get this straight. You would sell your three generation ranch to move to Colorado and start all over again if I wanted you to?”
He looked me dead in the eyes when he answered. “In a heartbeat.”
“I—I can’t believe that.”
His hand left my arm, slowly reaching up to touch the back of his neck. “Is it too soon or something for me to say that?”
“No, I just—can’t believe someone loves me that much. That's a huge sacrifice.”
He huffed, a smile pushing into his lips. “If you think that’s a huge sacrifice, then you haven’t realized how long I’ve wanted this.”
I sucked in a breath. “Tag.”
“I’ve spent years completely alone. Your three weeks at Meadowbrook were the happiest days of my entire life, Bea. Hands down, don’t even have to think about it. The ranch was burnin’ down around us, but I was still happier than I’ve ever been. I would give up everything to keep on havin’ those moments with you—to work side by side, laugh like kids, eat dinner, share things, cry together. There’s nothin’ on this earth I wouldn’t trade.”
His hand reached to swipe a tear off my cheek.
He leaned forward. “I want forever, Bea.” His eyes searched mine in the fading light. “What do you think ‘bout that?”
“Yes,” I croaked, incapable of anything profound. I nodded and the remains of my braid fell into soft curls.
Tag's gaze snagged on my hair, marveling as his handiwork fell to pieces. Then his tender hand reached up to drag his fingers through. He whispered, “Yes, what? Say it.”
“I—I want forever, too.”
He let go of my hair and let his hand slide down my shoulder to my hand, gently squeezing it. He didn’t respond, just smiled.
The weight of our confession did the talking for long, silent moments. But then my mind kicked into gear. Forever had a lot of connotations. “Does forever mean like marriage, kids, family?” For half a beat, I worried. What if he didn’t want those things? I did.
For a moment he was quiet. A log in the fire made a fizzling sound as it dropped into the ashes. “Yeah. I—I definitely want a family. You do, too, right?”
I smiled, nodded. Heat bloomed over my face. I sat in silence but my insides screamed in excitement. We had a beautiful life ahead of us—one we both wanted. I had to share my idea with him. I knew he’d love it!
He said, “If we want to do the long distance thing for a while, we can. Like I said, I have a lot of work to do on myself.”
“Well, that’s the biggest problem I see with long distance. I know therapy is going to be two steps forward, one step back. Won't you want someone to be there for you? I don’t like the idea of being far away when you’re dredging up your past and no one is there to support you.”
He nodded. Surely he’d thought of that, too. “I want you to do what's best for you though, Bea. That's more important to me.”
“Okay, well, here’s the idea I came up with and I think it's better.”
He smiled. “Alright. Shoot.”
“What if I moved to Texas? I could take over the administrative side of the business like taxes, bills, finances, and insurance. And we could work together to get the hospitality side of Meadowbrook up and running again and run a bed and breakfast like it was in the past. I could take care of bookings, cleaning, and even some of the advertising. I’m not naturally good at that stuff, but I could figure it out?—”
Tag shook his head. “No, Bea, no.”
“I think it’s perfect!”
“There's so many problems with that plan. ”
“Name one.”
“Your music.”
“Easy. Glory goes with me wherever I go. Next!”
“You know that’s not what I meant. There’s no opportunity for you back in Texas.”
“Tag, I’ve let go of that. For me, music is an extension of my soul. I’m okay with music being a side thing—something I do when I’m inspired and not necessarily to put food on the table. I had the opportunity to take it big and I declined. But music will always be a part of me.”
“Yeah, about the food on the table thing…that’s my next reason. Bea, I can’t—finances at Meadowbrook are so up and down right now, I usually don’t even pay myself. I couldn’t pay you a livable wage. You wouldn’t be able to get an apartment and stuff like that.”
“Oh.” I said, flatly.
“What?”
“I want to live at Meadowbrook, Tag!”
He immediately started laughing. “Are you seriously already tryin’ to move in with me?”
I smacked him in the chest as we both had a good laugh. “Okay, no , you know I’m not trying to share a bedroom or anything, but Meadowbrook totally has room for me. I don’t want to come be your employee. I want to come be your partner and help you make Meadowbrook the best it can be.”
“What about your family?” His eyes searched mine in the falling darkness.
For a quiet moment, I grappled with his concern. But as I thought about telling them goodbye and traveling home for holidays, I imagined the nights on the porch with Tag and chasing down the stubborn horses together. I imagined the joys of solving problems and the late night rodeo nachos. I imagined supporting the man I loved as he sought healing. I imagined the nights we would warm up cold sheets together and the way he would hold me. I imagined being his wife and having his children.
Tag was enough .
He continued, “You told me livin’ in Nashville was an unbearable idea because you didn’t want to live away from them.”
A smile touched my lips as I spoke the honest to goodness truth. “That was before you.”
His exhale was audible, emotion-laden. When he reached for me, I crumpled back into his lap and his strong arms cradled me. He covered my face in gentle kisses, his caress so tender I wanted to weep with joy. We didn’t discuss it further. The need for answers wasn’t urgent. Sun or rain, we were committed.
Beautiful futures take time—so we didn’t rush it.
Slowly, our eyes drifted closed and Tag’s arms went slack.