27. Blythe
— ? —
Blythe
“I want you to teach me to swim.”
Reid looked up from his coffee. We were at the kitchen island, morning sunlight streaming through the windows, Bayes sprawled at our feet hoping for scraps. The house was quiet and peaceful, a morning I’d dreamed about through all those years with Stan but never actually had.
“What?”
“Swimming.” I set down my mug and watched his face. “You offered once. In the hot tub. I said no.”
“I remember.”
“I’m saying yes now.”
He studied me for a long moment, his eyes searching my face. I knew what he was thinking. Was I sure? Was I ready? Was this going to be too much, too soon?
“What changed?”
“Everything.” I shrugged, trying to sound casual about something that felt monumental.
“I’m tired of being afraid of water. I’m tired of avoiding beaches and boats and pools.
I’m going to be a mother. I don’t want my child to grow up watching me be terrified of something that can’t actually hurt me. ”
“Water can absolutely hurt you.”
“You know what I mean.”
He was quiet. I could see him wrestling with something, his desire to protect me warring with his understanding that I needed to do this.
Then he stood up, came around the island, and took my hands.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“It might be hard. Physically and emotionally. You might panic. You might want to stop.” His eyes were serious, holding mine. “You might have memories come up. Flashbacks. The night you went into the water-”
“I know.”
“And if you do want to stop, we stop immediately, no questions asked, no pushing through. We stop.”
“I know.”
He nodded slowly. Then: “Okay. Then let’s do it.”
***
The pool at Windrose was heated and private, surrounded by a stone deck and high hedges that blocked the view from anywhere else. Reid had already checked, twice, that we wouldn’t be disturbed. The water was crystal clear, steam rising gently from the surface in the cool morning air.
I stood at the edge in my swimsuit, looking at the water. It was calm and inviting and completely non-threatening, and my heart was pounding so hard I could hear it.
Twenty-one years. Twenty-one years since Bailey’s Beach, since my mouth filled with salt and my mother watched from the shore and told me to stop making a scene.
Twenty-one years of avoiding pools and boats and beach days, of making excuses, of living half a life because I was too afraid to face the thing that had almost killed me.
“We’ll start in the shallow end.” Reid was already in the pool, standing waist-deep, his arms outstretched toward me. “Come to me.”
I sat down on the edge. Put my feet in. The water was warm, almost bath-temperature, and it lapped gently against my calves.
My hands were shaking. I gripped the edge of the pool, knuckles white.
“That’s good.” His voice was calm, steady. “Take your time.”
I slid in.
The water came up to my waist. I grabbed for the edge immediately, my breath coming fast, my whole body tense. The sensation of being surrounded by water, even warm, shallow water, made my chest tight.
“I’ve got you.” Reid was there in an instant, his hands on my waist, solid and sure. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
“I know.” My voice was shaky. “I know, I just-”
“Take a breath. Look at me.”
I looked at him. His dark eyes, his calm expression, his hands steady on my skin. He was so solid. So present. So completely unlike anyone else in the water with me.
“You’re in complete control,” he said. “You can stand up anytime. You can get out anytime. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
I nodded. Took a breath. Let it out slowly.
“Okay,” I said. “What do I do?”
He taught me to float first.
It was harder than it looked. My body kept wanting to sink, kept tensing up every time I tried to relax. Every instinct I had said to fight the water, to thrash and kick and claw my way to the surface. But that wasn’t floating. That was drowning.
“Stop fighting it,” he said. His hand was under my back, supporting me. “The water will hold you up. You just have to trust it.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“I know.” He smiled, soft and encouraging. “But you can do this. I’ve seen you do much harder things.”
I tried again. And again. And again. Each time, I’d start to relax, and then panic would spike through me, and I’d grab for him, and we’d have to start over.
But he never got frustrated. Never rushed me. Never made me feel like I was failing. He just kept his hand under my back and told me I was doing great, and eventually, slowly, something clicked.
My body relaxed. My head tipped back. The water cradled me, held me, lifted me toward the sky.
I was floating.
“Reid.” My voice came out breathless with wonder. “Reid, I’m doing it.”
“You’re doing it.” His hand was still there, barely touching my back. “You’re floating.”
“I’m floating!”
I started laughing. Couldn’t help it. I was floating in a pool like a normal person, like someone who’d never almost drowned, like someone who wasn’t afraid. And it was the most ridiculous thing in the world, and I couldn’t stop laughing.
Reid was grinning down at me. The wide, unguarded grin that took years off him.
“How does it feel?”
“Terrifying.” I was still laughing, tears pricking at my eyes. “And wonderful. And I can’t believe I waited this long to do this.”
He helped me stand up. Pulled me into his arms and held me, both of us dripping wet, both of us grinning like idiots.
“I’m so proud of you,” he said.
“I floated for like five seconds.”
“You faced something that’s scared you since you were eight years old.” He tipped my chin up, his eyes steady on mine. “That’s not nothing, Blythe. That’s everything.”
I kissed him.
I couldn’t help it. Standing there in the warm water with his arms around me, looking at his proud, happy face, I just had to kiss him.
The kiss started soft. Sweet. A celebration.
Then his hands tightened on my waist, and my legs wrapped around his hips on instinct, and suddenly we were pressed together in the shallow end with the water lapping around our waists.
I felt him harden instantly against me, thick and obvious through our swimsuits.
The kiss turned hungry, tongues sliding, teeth nipping.
“Reid-”
“We should stop.” His voice was already wrecked, hips giving an involuntary roll that made me gasp. “Someone could see.”
“No one can see.” I rolled my hips deliberately, grinding against that hard length. “You checked. Twice. Now fuck me before I float away again.”
He groaned, low and filthy. “Christ, menace.”
His hands shoved my swimsuit bottoms to the side under the water. Fingers slid through my folds, finding me already slick.
“So wet,” he muttered against my mouth. “Floating gets you this turned on?”
“You get me this turned on. Now stop teasing.”
He freed himself with one hand, shoved the front of his trunks down, and thrust up into me in one smooth stroke. Water splashed. I bit his shoulder to stay quiet as he filled me completely, thick and perfect.
“Fuck,” he growled, gripping my ass under the water to bounce me on his cock. “Tight little cunt taking me so well right after you conquered the pool. Proud of you. So fucking proud.”
I clung to his shoulders, riding the hard upward snaps of his hips. The water made everything slick and easy. Every thrust sent small waves outward. His mouth was on my neck, sucking, murmuring filthy praise between kisses.
“That’s it. Use me. Ride that cock like the fearless woman you are. Gonna come inside you right here in our pool. Mark you. Mine.”
“Yes - harder-”
He gave it to me, one hand braced on the pool edge for leverage, the other locked under my thigh as he pounded up into me. The stretch, the water, the residual adrenaline from floating, it all crashed together. I came fast and sharp, clenching around him with a muffled cry against his collarbone.
He followed almost immediately, burying himself deep and spilling with a curse that cracked against the water, holding me flush against him while he pulsed.
We stayed locked together, panting, water lapping gently around us, foreheads pressed together.
“Holy shit,” I whispered, laughing breathlessly.
“Yeah.” He kissed me soft this time, still inside me. “Proud of you. For the floating and for taking my cock like that two minutes later.”
The doorbell rang.
We both froze.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered against his shoulder.
Reid laughed. A real laugh, surprised out of him, his whole body shaking with it, which did interesting things where we were still joined.
“I have a surprise for you,” he said.
“A surprise?”
“That’s probably it.” He pulled out carefully, both of us hissing, then tucked himself away and helped me fix my suit. Water streamed down his chest as he grinned. “Come on. Get dressed. You’re going to love this.”
We climbed out of the pool and wrapped ourselves in robes. I was still breathless, still flushed, still deliciously sore and wearing the evidence of him.
But he looked so pleased with himself that I couldn’t be annoyed.
We opened the front door.
There was a truck in the driveway. A massive truck, with men already unloading boxes and furniture and carrying them toward the house.
“What is all this?” I stared at the parade of items streaming past us. A crib. A changing table. A rocking chair with a plush cushion.
“I might have gone a bit crazy last night.” Reid’s voice was sheepish. “Scrolling through shopping pages. I might have bought a few baby things.”
“A few?”
“Okay, a lot.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about the nursery, and what we’d need, and before I knew it I’d filled three shopping carts.”
The men kept coming. Boxes of diapers in every size. Stacks of onesies in neutral colors. And then a mobile with little sailboats dangling from it, spinning gently as it was carried past.
I grabbed the delivery man’s sleeve.
Little sailboats. Hand-painted, on driftwood arms. Not similar to the one Birdie had held up on my mother’s lawn. Identical.
“How-” I couldn’t finish.
“I saw your face at the shower,” Reid said quietly behind me. “When she held yours up. So I made some calls. Found the woman who makes them - the craft fair’s gone, but she still takes commissions. I couldn’t get yours back.” He paused. “So I had her make you a new one.”
I stood there in the doorway with my hand over my mouth, and for a full minute I couldn’t say anything at all.
“Reid.” I finally breathed. “This is insane.”
“I know.” He looked worried now, that uncertainty creeping into his expression.
“We can send any of it back. All of it, if you want. I’m not sure what your vision is for the nursery, but I want to make every single one of your dreams come true, so I figured I’d start with options, and you can pick whatever you-”
I shrieked.
He stopped talking, looking alarmed.
I jumped on him.
He caught me automatically, his hands under my thighs, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him so hard we both stumbled backward into the foyer.
“You’re insane,” I said against his mouth. “You’re absolutely, completely insane.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“It’s the best thing anyone’s ever done for me.” I pulled back, eyes stinging. “You bought an entire nursery because you couldn’t sleep.”
“I want our child to have everything.” His voice was soft, raw. “I want you to have everything.”
I kissed him again. And again. The delivery men walked around us, carefully not looking, carrying boxes upstairs.
“Come on,” I said when I finally pulled away. “Lose the shirt and get to work. I want to see you use those muscles.”
His eyes heated. “Gladly.”
But instead of reaching for his shirt, he reached for me.
“Reid!” I laughed as he scooped me up. “What are you doing?”
“Taking a detour.” He was already heading for the stairs, carrying me one-armed, robe falling open. “The furniture can wait. I just fucked you in the pool and I’m already hard again. Need you on a proper bed this time.”
“The delivery men are still here!”
“They know where everything goes.” He grinned down at me, pure wicked intent, and then my phone buzzed on the hall table, and I saw the name on the screen, and held up a hand.
Callahan. The text was three lines: Grand jury convened. Everything’s moving. Won’t be long now.
I read it twice. Set the phone face-down. And looked up at the man carrying me toward the stairs while, two towns over, the machinery of justice ground toward the man who’d left me in the ocean, both things true at once, both things mine.
“Good news?” Reid asked.
“Later,” I said, and kissed him. “I left very detailed instructions. And I locked the bedroom door in my head already.”
I laughed all the way up the stairs, my arms around his neck, my heart so full I thought it might burst.
He kicked the bedroom door shut, dropped me on the bed, and yanked both our robes open.
“On your back,” he ordered, already climbing over me, cock hard and glistening from the pool. “Legs open. I want to watch your face while I fuck another orgasm out of you.”
I pulled him down, still laughing until he thrust inside in one deep stroke and the laugh turned into a moan.
He fucked me harder this time, no water to slow him, just raw power and love and the wet sounds of him moving inside me. One hand braced by my head, the other rubbing my clit in tight circles.
“That’s my girl. Took the water. Took my cock in the pool. Now take it again. Come on me, Blythe. Let me feel it.”
I did, crying out into his mouth as I clenched around him. He followed with a deep groan, spilling into me again while the muffled sounds of furniture being assembled drifted up from the hallway.
Afterward he collapsed half on top of me, both of us grinning like idiots, sweaty and sated.
“Best swimming lesson ever,” I managed.
He laughed into my neck. “We’re doing drills every morning.”
“God, I hope so.”