Chapter 33
“Where are we going, Beckett?”
I look at Presley out of the corner of my eye as I switch the blinker on. “We’re almost there.”
The construction crew just finished paving the new driveway for the lodge. I wanted Pres to have the full experience the first time she saw it, which is why I’m taking her down this route instead of riding across the property. She gasps when the building comes into view. Only the framework is done so far, but it’s obvious it will be larger than the average house around here.
“What is this? My parents didn’t tell me they were building a new house.”
I shift my Ford into park and kill the engine, but I leave the high-beams on so she can see better. I’d prefer doing this when we had daylight, but I had to work past sunset, and I didn’t want to wait any longer to show her.
“Technically, it’s a lodge.”
“For what?”
“Get out, and I’ll tell you.”
Presley meets me at the front of the truck. “So? Spill.”
“We’re starting a program—an equine-therapy program for people suffering from PTSD, to be more specific. Unfortunately, insurance companies won’t cover an expense like this, but we’ve secured some private funding for veterans and victims of abuse, which will be earmarked for people who can’t afford to pay out of pocket. They’ll come here for a retreat-like experience, but it’ll be focused on helping them develop coping skills that will allow them to function better when they get back home. Horses have been proven to be effective therapy animals, so the program is being designed where the guests will have daily interactions with them. The new indoor arena is going to be part of it.”
Presley stares up at the bones of what’ll eventually become an impressive structure. I can practically see the thoughts racing through her head, but it takes her a good minute before she says anything.
“This is incredible, Beckett.” When she turns to me, her eyes are glassy. “Really, truly incredible. Who thought of this?”
I adjust the brim of my ball cap. “Uh... I did. I mean, the concept, in general, isn’t new, but I’m spearheading the whole thing. Your folks have been incredibly supportive from day one, though.”
Presley’s eyes bounce between mine like she’s having some sort of internal debate. I grab her hand and place it on my chest. She used to always do that when we were younger... place her hand over my heart to feel its beat. She said it soothed her.
“Talk to me, Pres.”
Her tears spill over before she quickly brushes them away. “Lord, I feel like I’m always crying around you. I really need to stop doing that.”
“Honey, if you need to cry, then cry. Don’t hide from me. You’re safe with me. No matter what, Pres, you’ll always be safe with me.”
Presley’s blonde hair spills over the side of her face as her head drops to my chest. Her body starts shaking violently, right before the most gut-wrenching keening sound escapes her lips, and she completely loses it. Shit, what did I say that caused this?
“Shh, Pres.” I smooth my hand through her hair. “What’d I say? I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s not you.” She hiccups a sob. “I think what you’re doing is amazing, Beckett. Absolutely amazing.”
My brows draw together. “Then, why are you crying?”
“I don’t... I can’t...” She loops her arms around my waist and squeezes.
I take a deep breath and run my hand along her back. “It’s okay, you don’t need to tell me. Just let it out, darlin’.”
And she does. When her legs become unsteady, I carefully lower both of our bodies to the ground, draping her over my lap, so she’s not sitting directly on the dirt. I’ve seen this woman cry many times over the years, but nothing like this. Not even after we lost the baby. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more helpless in my life. These tears... they’re pure, soul-shredding agony. It’s like she’s exorcising every demon she’s ever had all at once. Eventually, her tears dry up, but she makes no move to leave.
“Can I do anything?”
She tucks her face into the crook of my neck. “You’re doin’ it, Beckett. Just be here with me.”
“The forecast is callin’ for rain tonight. What do you say we move this inside?”
“I know it’s probably getting late, but I don’t want to leave you right now.”
“I didn’t say you had to.” I slide my finger under her chin, raising her face up to me. “We can go back to my place if that’s okay with you. I’ll take you home whenever you’re ready.”
Presley nods. “Okay.”
I scoot her off my lap so we can stand and help her inside the cab of the truck before rounding the hood and hopping in on the driver’s side.
Presley flips the visor down and looks at herself in the mirror. “My God, I’m a blotchy mess.”
I pull her hand away from her face and weave our fingers together. “You’re gorgeous, Pres.”
She ducks her head shyly and looks out the window. We make the short drive in complete silence, all the way until she steps through my front door.
“Wow.”
Presley looks around, taking in the improvements I’ve made over the last few years. The cottage is small, just over a thousand square feet, and I’ve knocked down a couple of walls to create an open floor plan, so most everything is in view as you walk in the front door. The kitchen cabinets have been painted an off-white to complement the new marble countertop. There’s now a raised breakfast bar where a couple of industrial stools sit, though only one of them is ever occupied. It’s just me, so I never bothered with a dining table, although there is a built-in bench by the front window if I ever need another dining space.
I refinished the hardwoods throughout the entire house, staining them a rustic gray color, and replaced all the doors and trim with a white maple to match the shiplap on the walls. The wood stove was replaced with a more modern unit set in the middle of a floor-to-ceiling brick surround with a living edge mantle. The low plaster ceilings were ripped out, creating a vaulted effect with beautiful exposed beams. You can’t see the sole bathroom from here, but that, too, has been completely gutted. I smile when I think about how much she’d love the oversized clawfoot tub. Presley always had a thing for country chic design, which is pretty much what I’ve done here. Her parents technically own this house, but they’ve allowed me to treat it as my own. They offered to fund the renovations, but I declined. When you’re deployed, hazard pay adds up when you have nothing to spend it on. Plus, my housing expenses are covered with the job, so I don’t have to worry about those either.
“More projects?” she surmises.
I nod. “More projects.”
Presley’s delicate brows lift. “Not exactly a bachelor pad.”
I laugh. “Were you expecting empty beer cans and pizza boxes?”
She smiles bashfully. “Maybe.”
“You wanna see the rest?”
“Very much so.”
I show off the bathroom where Presley reacts exactly how I predicted, then I show her my office-slash-guest room, also known as my childhood bedroom.
“Wow, look at that. Your room doesn’t look like a teenager threw up in here like mine does.”
“Well, technically, this isn’t my bedroom anymore.” I nod to the doorway at the end of the hall. “I moved into the primary.”
Presley gets a sad smile on her face. “I’m sorry about your dad, Beckett. If I had known?—”
I shake my head, cutting her off. “It’s okay. Even if you had, I probably wouldn’t have been very receptive. He passed only a few months after my discharge.” I tap my temple. “Not a lot of positive thoughts going on up here back then.”
She hangs her head. “I still wish I knew. I’m sorry.”
I pull her into me, unable to stand not touching her anymore. “It’s okay, Presley. Really.”
I can feel her jaw stretching against my chest as she yawns. “Sorry, it’s been a long day... and I think all the dramatic waterworks earlier made it worse.”
“You want me to walk you home?”
She lifts her head and looks me in the eye. “How would you feel about me stayin’ here?”
My eyes widen, and I have to tell my dick to calm the fuck down. “What do you mean?”
Pres grins. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Beckett. Being naked is not on the agenda.”
I return her smile. “There’s plenty of things we could do fully clothed.”
She gives me a wry look. “Nothing dirty is on the agenda. Sleep and nothing but sleep is what I’m offering. I’d like to just be near you, but if you think it’d be too difficult, or awk?—”
“Stay, Pres. You can take my bed. The mattress is more comfortable. I’ll sleep in the guest room.”
Presley glances into my bedroom. “Oh, no, that’s okay. I don’t want to kick you out of your own room.”
I narrow my eyes. “Why did the mention of taking my room make you clam up just now?”
Her eyes widen. “What? I didn’t?—”
“Stop being so cagey, and just tell me what’s really on your mind, Pres.”
She groans. “Fine. It makes me feel icky. It hasn’t even been a week since you ended things with Nicole, and I just think it’d be weird if I slept in the same bed where she recently slept.” Presley glares when my lips twitch. “What could I possibly be saying that you’d find funny?”
“Because you’re feeling icky, as you put it, for no reason. Nicole—or any other woman—has never been in that bed. Besides your mother, you’re the only woman who’s ever been inside this house.”
Presley’s mouth forms into an O. “How is that possible? You were... doing whatever with Nicky for two years, Beckett.”
I shrug. “I don’t know... it just didn’t feel right. And for the record, the whatever hasn’t happened since I found out you were back almost a month ago. Trust me, Nicole didn’t like not being able to come here. It caused more than a few arguments, and she’s actually showed up on my doorstep unannounced a time or two tryin’ to invite herself in. But I wasn’t willing to cave. The thought of bringing anyone else into this place felt... disrespectful, I guess.”
“To my parents?” She frowns. “You felt weird bringing another woman here because I’m their daughter?”
My head slices slowly to the left, then the right. “No, Pres. Your parents were never a factor.”
“Then, wh?—”
“You, Presley. It felt disrespectful to you. To the memories. I know that makes me seem pathetic, or whatever, but?—”
I completely lose my train of thought when Presley presses her lips against mine. I groan, sweeping her into me, pinning her against the wall as I own her mouth. My lips travel down her jawline to the nape of her neck, inhaling her sweet orange blossom scent as I go. My cock is ready to punch through my zipper, but I do my best to ignore it and focus on her. I continue south, over her collarbone, pausing when I reach the swell of her breasts.
“Beckett,” she pants. “Don’t stop. It feels so good.”
I pull back to look her in the eyes, to make sure there’s no hesitation in them. When I see none, I raise her arms above her head and remove her T-shirt. When I get my first glimpse of Presley’s breasts covered in nothing but a lacy bra, I swear I almost come in my pants like a fourteen-year-old boy.
“Fuuuuck.”
Presley follows my line of sight. “They’re not real. They’re...”
I place my index finger over her lips until she stops talking. “I don’t care, Pres. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen either way.”
She bites her lower lip. “I know I said no nakedness, but do you... do you want to see them?”
“Is that a real question?” I give her an incredulous look. “Honey, I want to see every part of you, but only if you want meto see. Don’t do it for me.”
“It’s been so long since I’ve felt...” Her chest rises and falls as she takes a few deep breaths. It takes extreme concentration to maintain eye contact, but I manage it for the most part. “Never mind, that part doesn’t matter.” Presley reaches behind her back and fumbles with the clasp of her bra. “I trust you, Beckett. I’ve always trusted you, and because of that, I want you to see me.”
For some reason, I get the impression this is about much more than being naked in front of me. I don’t want to push her, though, so I let Presley take the lead. When her bra straps slide down her arms, it takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to take her into my arms, kissing and touching her everywhere.
Presley reaches for my hand, and when I grab hers, she walks backward until we’re crossing the threshold into my bedroom. My fists clench in anticipation when she pops the button on her jeans and slides the zipper down.
“I’m not ready to... I can’t make love to you, Beck. Not yet. But I want you to see all of me. Can you be around me like this without having sex? Would that be okay?”
I give her a single nod in reply, too afraid if I reply verbally, I’ll shout something stupid like, “Fuck yeah, it is!” and ruin the moment.
I watch as Presley slowly shimmies her jeans down her long legs and steps out of them. Next, she loops her fingers under the straps of her cotton panties, hesitating for only a second before those end up on the floor, too. I bite my knuckles as I take her in from head to toe. She’s bare below the waist, which surprises the hell out of me, but also turns me right the fuck on. Even more surprising? The next words that come out of her mouth.
“Please touch me, Beckett.”
I tilt my head to the side in question. Didn’t she just say sex was off the table?
Presley seems to read my mind because she adds, “I want to remember what it feels like to be touched by someone who...” She takes a deep breath. “Please don’t make me explain right now. I can’t... I’m not ready for everything yet, but... the way you used to touch me... I need to feel that. I really need a reminder of what a loving touch feels like, so if that’s something you’d be interested in... I’d very much like that. So? Would you like to touch me?”
I cup my hands around her jaw. “Honey, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.”