Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
August 22 nd
10:19 A.M.
This wasn't what he’d had in mind when he decided to take Becca out canoeing this morning.
Not that Connor was complaining.
All he’d wanted was to spend time with her and put her at ease like she always used to be when they were together. He’d thought a canoe ride along the peaceful little river that flowed through Cade’s property would be romantic. The sunshine, the soft breeze, the gentle sounds of the water combined with everything nature had to offer. What could be more perfect?
Turned out this could.
Kicking his feet in the water to keep them both afloat, one of his arms locked around Becca’s waist, holding her anchored against his body, water streaming down both of their faces. There was a look in her eyes that he remembered so well. This was happy Becca, relaxed Becca, content Becca.
Even though it wasn't how he’d envisioned it turning out, this was exactly what he’d hoped would happen today. They’d take another step closer toward healing and reuniting.
No longer was Becca fighting against that.
Just because she still hadn't offered him an answer to his question about whether she could give him a second chance, she didn't really need to. He could feel her answer. She was working through her issues, learning to forgive him, learning to trust him again, and he’d know when she was successful because that’s when she’d give him the yes he craved.
All he had to do was show her that he would always put her first.
“Guess we did wind up capsizing,” he said, his gaze drifting to her lips. How badly he wanted to kiss them.
“I think that was inevitable from the moment you decided to tickle me just because I splashed a little water on you,” Becca said wryly.
“If I got wet it was only fair we both did.”
Because he was holding her against his body, her legs wrapped around his hips, he felt the way she shifted at the mention of getting wet.
Was his girl wet for him?
Did she long to feel him inside her as desperately as he longed to shove those cute little, short shorts down her legs, pull her panties off with his teeth, and then plunge inside her tight, wet heat?
Now it was his turn to shift as his body responded to the beautiful woman wrapped around him. This was different than when he offered her the comfort of taking his length into her mouth. That was about soothing her, reassuring her, offering her the power over him to do whatever she wanted, to make sure she knew she was in control when it came to them and their relationship.
This was about need and desire, warring inside him with his brain’s knowledge that Becca wasn't ready yet for this step even if she was thinking about it.
Because he would never do anything to her without her express consent, he started swimming them back toward the pier. That had been their rules after her assault. Two months after she’d decided she was ready to try being intimate, he’d been uncertain if enough time had passed. They’d decided together that so long as Becca clearly articulated what she was and wasn't comfortable with, he gave it to her.
If she wanted his mouth on her, she asked for it, and he gave it to her.
If she wanted his fingers roaming her body, she asked for it, and he gave it to her.
If she wanted sex, she asked for it, and he gave it to her.
So long as she asked with words, he knew she was sure it was what she wanted.
Today she wasn't asking with her words. The look in her eyes said she wanted more than him just holding her. The way her hips rocked ever so slightly against his hardening length also said she wanted more.
But until she used her words, he wouldn't do anything.
Violating her trust like that would be something he could never take back.
When he reached the dock, only about a dozen yards from where they’d capsized, he shifted his hands to circle Becca’s hips and lifted her up and onto the wood. Then, placing his hands on the dock, he hoisted himself out and up onto the pier beside her.
She’d flopped onto her back, her knees bent over the side of the dock, toes dipped into the water, staring up at the vast expanse of sky above them. He stretched out alongside her, also with his feet in the water, keeping just enough space between them that he wouldn't be tempted to do something like haul her over so she was straddling his legs and let her do what her eyes had been begging for.
Taking things slow might be hard, but it was the only way to get what he wanted.
This wasn't about just patching things up with Becca so she no longer hated him and then parting ways as friends.
This was about getting back the future that should have always been his.
Would have been his if he hadn't messed it up.
Something brushed lightly against his hip, and he glanced down to see Becca’s hand. She hadn't turned her head and was still staring up at the wide blue sky above them, but she’d reached out to him.
His heart soared as he moved one of his hands to claim hers.
For a long time, they lay like that, both watching the sky and the occasional white, fluffy cloud that drifted lazily across it, both lost in thought. The sun slowly dried their soaked clothes and wet hair, the wafting breeze kept them from getting too hot, and honestly, even if it was a thousand degrees out there, nothing was going to make him move and end this perfect moment.
“I still love watching the clouds, seeing what shapes they make.” Becca’s voice finally broke the comfortable silence.
Turning to look at her, Connor found she was watching him now. He didn't know for how long, but he liked that she was finally able to look at him with a peaceful expression, one free from the pain of his betrayal.
“You always loved that game when we were little,” he said.
“And when we were not so little. I still remember the last date we went on before I was hurt. You took me out to the beach, we swam, we laughed, we made out, we lay on the sand watching the sky, and then we roasted marshmallows and made S’mores over a bonfire before you took me home and made love to me in our bed.”
“I remember.” It had been about ten days before Dylan had accosted her that night in her car and raped her.
“I never told you what I saw in the clouds that day.”
“I think you told me about a dozen things you saw. There was a baby elephant, a train, a chicken, a seahorse, a?—”
“Okay, okay,” Becca said with a giggle. “So I told you some of the things I saw that day, but there was one I never mentioned. One I thought about a lot these last several years. At the time I thought …”
“Thought what, moonlight?” he asked as his fingers stroked her wrist, soothing her because he sensed her increasing anxiety.
Her dark blue eyes met his directly as she spoke. “I could have sworn I saw a ring. Like an engagement ring. Right when I spotted it, the sun shone right through it, making the clouds seem like they were glowing, almost sparkling. It’s silly but … I wondered if it was kind of like a sign. That maybe you were almost ready to propose.”
This time, he didn't resist the urge to tug her over so she was kneeling above him, her knees on either side of his hips. Retaining his grip on her hand, Becca’s other splayed out on his chest, ironically right above his heart. His free hand gripped her thigh, holding onto her because he was half afraid that if he didn't, she’d disappear.
“I was ready to propose to you when we were six,” he told her, making her smile. “I'm not joking, Becca. I told Cooper that you were going to be my wife when we were grown up, and he scrunched up his nose and told me girls were icky. I was six, I agreed. Girls were icky back then, but not you, because you weren't a girl. Well, you were, but really you were just mine. I bought you an engagement ring before we’d even slept together. I saved almost all of my money from my part-time job and bought you a ring. It was small, but I knew you wouldn't care.”
“Why didn't you ever propose?”
“Because I thought it had to be perfect. I thought the timing mattered. I thought that I had to wait until we both graduated, got jobs, and then we could get married. I thought that we had to do things a certain way. I thought I had to plan something really special, romantic. Because I hadn't spent a lot on the ring, I was planning this amazing vacation to take you on after we graduated so everything would be perfect. Do you know what I realized after I lost you?”
“What?” she asked breathlessly, hanging on his every word.
“There’s no such thing as perfect. You were perfect for me and there are no rules when it comes to life. I wish I’d proposed when I wanted to, which was right after high school. I wanted to get married that summer and start college as a proper married couple. It’s another one of the mistakes I made.” If they’d been married, he’d like to think he wouldn't have freaked that day, or if he had, that Becca would have waited for him to come back so they could talk.
“Connor, you want to know what I realized after we broke up?”
“What?”
“That happiness is what you make it. You're right, there is no such thing as perfect. While this world is full of so many beautiful things it’s also full of darkness and a lot of bad things. You can't escape them, but you can survive them.”
Was the damage he’d caused to their relationship one of those things you could survive?
Connor prayed with every fiber of his being that it was.
Because living out the rest of his life without Becca by his side was not.
August 22 nd
2:38 P.M.
“Connor!”
“What?” he asked, freezing at her outburst as though something was poised and ready to attack them. Only what could attack them in the beautiful woods where she was finally finding the peace and tranquility she’d been chasing for twelve long years, she had no idea.
“A bridge,” she said, tugging him over to stand on the small wooden bridge that curled above the river that flowed lazily beneath it.
“Oookkaaay,” he said slowly, clearly having no idea what she was talking about.
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”
“All right, I won't tell you I've forgotten,” he said with a smirk.
Becca rolled her eyes and then planted her hands on her hips. “I can't believe you'd forget something so important.”
“You’ve lost me, babe. I have zero idea what you're talking about.”
“Look around you,” she instructed. Surely, he couldn’t really have forgotten another of her favorite childhood games. Not when they were standing on a bridge.
Obediently he began to scan their surroundings. “Okay, I see a whole bunch of trees, lots of pretty flowers, I see clouds in the sky and the sun, there are some bees and butterflies, probably a whole bunch of other insects I can't see. There’s the river, and this bridge, and the path we were following before you scared me half to death. What in particular am I supposed to be focusing on?”
With a sigh, she tugged her hand free of his, held up said hand to indicate he should stay right where he was, and then hurried off the bridge to scan the ground. Her gaze landed on what she needed, and she bent down to snatch up two sturdy-looking sticks and then scampered back to Connor.
“Well?” she asked as she held up the sticks.
His brow furrowed. “Sticks?” Then she could see it clicked together in his head. “Oh, sticks and we’re on a bridge. My little Winnie the Pooh fan used to be obsessed with playing Poohsticks.”
“Right! How could you have forgotten that?” she asked, beaming up at him, pleased he’d remembered even if she’d had to prompt him a little.
“I have no idea,” he told her with another one of those charming smiles that had her having to squeeze her thighs together as heat zinged between her legs.
“I always used to win at Poohsticks,” she said as she kept hold of the stick that looked like a Y and passed the other one to Connor.
“Actually, yeah you did. I have no idea how. The game is totally random and not even up to anything we do or don’t do, yet you did always win.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” she informed him. “There absolutely is something you can do to ensure you always win.”
“Yeah? What's that then?”
“Pick the right stick,” she said, holding up hers, which she was positive would indeed be the winner when they dropped them over one side of the bridge and then moved to the other side to see which one appeared first.
Connor’s laugh rang out, so pure and full of joy that she froze. How could she have lived so many years without hearing that sound? Those last four months they'd been together were rough, and neither of them had had a lot to laugh about.
Hearing it now had tears stinging the backs of her eyes.
She’d missed it so much.
Missed him so much.
Just because she hadn't allowed herself to think about Connor because it was too painful didn't mean she hadn't been living her life with a part of herself missing.
“You okay?” Connor’s hand swept down the length of her long braid, then lifted to palm her cheek. His fingertips caressed her skin, and she sighed and nuzzled into his hand.
“I'm okay. I just … I missed hearing you laugh,” she admitted.
Sadness wiped away the last of his joy. “I’m sor?—”
Lifting a hand, she pressed a finger to his lips to silence him. “No more apologies. I get it, Connor. And you’ve apologized repeatedly. I believe you and I believe in your sincerity. I accept your apology,” she said the words she knew he needed to hear and was rewarded when something in Connor eased, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
It wasn't quite a yes to his question about second chances, but it was a step in that direction.
“Thank you,” he said softly. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to her forehead and held them there. “I don’t deserve you, Becca.”
“Why? Because you messed up? I hate to break it to you, Con, but even though you messed up, you were my rock those first four months. I would not have survived them without you. You gave me everything I needed even though you were hurting yourself in the process. You can't do that again, Connor. I mean it,” she added when he opened his mouth and was about to say what she knew would be a protest. “You weren't taking care of you, and that’s why you let everything build up and broke down like you did.”
Taking a deep breath, Becca considered her words.
Wanted to get them just right.
“If I let myself lean on you again, you have to know that if you leave it will break me. I've survived a lot, but I can't survive losing you twice. If I allow myself to trust you and believe in you like I used to, then it has to be with the understanding that you aren't going to prioritize me to the exclusion of everything else. I needed you then, Connor, but I still could have supported you the way you supported me. If you’d needed a day off, I would have been okay. If you needed to scream and yell, I would have been okay. If you needed to cry, I would have been okay. Partners have each other’s backs, it’s not one person shouldering everything.”
“You didn't need my pain on top of your own,” he said, his fingers on her brow sweeping in soft circles.
Jutting her hip out she stared at him defiantly. “I could have handled it.”
His brow furrowed like he was deep in thought, things occurring to him that hadn't before. “You're right,” he finally agreed. “I was so focused on trying to protect you from everything, including myself and my feelings about your assault, that I forgot how strong you are. I swear, I won't make that mistake again.”
She believed him.
Which was why she mentally took another step toward trusting him.
“Good. See that you don’t. Now, are you ready to play?” she asked, pushing aside the heavy emotions that had dimmed the wood’s peacefulness.
“Ready,” Connor answered, his easy smile sliding back into place. Still, before he released her, he leaned in and dropped another featherlight kiss, this time to her lips.
It wasn't what she wanted, she wanted fiery and passionate, but for now she’d take it.
One step at a time.
Plus, she was already planning what was going to happen tonight. Last night, after learning about Connor abstaining from sex for over a decade she’d chickened out, back peddled, overcome she’d needed a little distance.
Tonight, she was getting what she craved.
What she knew they both craved.
When Connor finally let her go, she stepped up to the side of the bridge where the direction the water was flowing would carry the sticks to the other side. Connor came up beside her, one hand settling on the small of her back like it always used to, and she smiled.
Things were slowly returning to the way they used to be, and it felt right.
“One,” she started, and they both held their sticks in the air, ready to drop them. “Two. Three.”
Both sticks hit the water at the same time, and since the bridge was small and it would take only seconds for them to reach the other side, they both hurried across it, giggling like they used to when they were seven, and would play this game on lazy summer afternoons.
About two seconds after they leaned over the side of the cute wooden bridge the sticks appeared.
Hers in the lead.
“Victory!” Becca cheered, jumping up and down and pumping her fists in the air. “I keep my perfect score.”
Connor groaned. “How do you manage to always do that?”
“Told you, it’s all in the choice. You pick a winner, and you win, you pick a loser, and you lose. Simple as that.”
Those words clicked something into place inside her.
You picked a loser, and you lost.
Picking Toby had been the wrong choice. Not because he was a bad man, he wasn't, not at all. He was just bad for her. The wrong choice for her.
If you’d asked her a month ago if picking Connor was the right choice or wrong, she would have readily said it was the wrong one.
But that would have been a lie.
Because Connor was never the wrong choice for her.
He was always the right one.
You picked a winner, and you won.
Becca was well and truly ready to do some winning for a change.