He pushes me onto my back, and his body covers mine.
His kiss is passionate. Eager.
Tearful.
And the longer we kiss, the more I realize just how ready I am for this. For us. My heart mended long ago.
Because of every moment I spend with Dax Pearson.
Thirty-One
Dax
I could kiss her lips for hours.
They’re soft and welcoming. Warm and peaceful.
I didn’t know if I’d get to kiss her again, but now that I have, I never want to stop.
We lie on the field, stealing kisses between sentences, her leg wrapped around mine at the ankle, her arm draped across my waist.
Together, we turn our focus to the stars. We’re like specks of sand in the grand universe, but here, in the middle of our old high school football field, we’re magic.
Because we’re together after years of living separate lives.
“I was going to bring you here at the end of our first date but decided not to,” I confess.
“Why didn’t you?”
I run my fingertips over her arms, enjoying the feel of her body against mine. “It’s what we used to do as teenagers.”
Her head shifts, and the grass rustles beneath her. I feel her watching me as my exterior crumbles. I face her too, searching her curious eyes for courage to be vulnerable and straightforward with her.
I never want to leave anything out when it comes to her.
“I’ll always be your friend.” I cup her cheek, and her lips part. “Bringing you here, where we always used to come when we wanted to escape our teenage troubles—it would’ve reminded you that all we were for years was friends.”
Her eyes glisten as she continues listening.
“But I want to be more, and I need you to promise me that you do too. That you’re in this with both feet. You and me.” I rest my forehead against hers, holding my breath for her response.
She kisses me softly. “I promise you, I’m in this. One hundred percent.”
She nods against me, then forces my chin up with her thumb and forefinger so I meet her gaze.
Even in the dark, it’s hungry, serious, and very sure.
Many memories of Clara are burned in my brain and seared on my heart. Her humming while she cooks. How she laughs at every episode of Friends, even though she knows exactly what’s going to happen.
Clara as my friend.
Her as a mother.
Her bare in bed with me.
She stares up at me, in my arms under the sky, reminding me of all the good in this world when my job hardly reassures me of it—it’s a memory I’ll look back on in fifty years and smile.
Because I’ve been in love with Clara Morgan for years, but right now, even without the words, I know for the first time that she loves me too.
I help her up, then kiss the back of her hand. I kiss her on the lips, a deep and meaningful kiss that no words could express my feelings any better.
I follow her to my house, my body buzzing with hope and excitement.
I grab Clara’s hand, leading her to my front door. Once inside my place, I leave the lights off. I walk her to my bed, removing our clothes along the way. We fall into bed together, a mix of kisses, hands, and labored breaths.
We make love.
Slow.
Sensual.
Tender love.
My lips never leave hers as I slide inside her. I swallow her moans, her every breath. Her hair is splayed across my pillow, soft wisps of blond clinging to my pillowcases.
Hushed whimpers.
Soft breaths.
Rhythmic beat of the headboard in tune with the beating of my heart.
I move my hips, feeling her skin against mine, sweat building down my back. I swipe her hair out of her face, so I can see all of her. She holds on to me like she needs me. Like she can’t be without me. And it spurs me to move faster, deeper, closer.
So close.
She gasps into my mouth, her mouth hanging open as her body trembles beneath me—the most gorgeous sight. I find my own release, grunting as the tension fades.
And I hold her the rest of the night.
I hold Clara close to my chest and drift off to sleep, feeling lighter than ever before.
Feeling happier than ever before.
Earlier tonight, I’d lost hope. We were headed in a very different direction when I arrived at the winery. One of silence and loneliness.
Yet now, as Clara’s hair tickles my nose, I know joy. Contentment.
Love—from the one person I’ve waited for my whole life.
I smile down at Clara, then check behind me to make sure Jacob is following. Once I see he is, I knock on the door and wait.
I shift from one foot to the other, ready to burst if I don’t get this out.
Last week, we went trick-or-treating with Jacob and Luke, as promised. Sidney came as well, and we drank a glass of wine afterward while the kids slept at Clara’s.
Clara and I kept our distance all night, deciding to keep our relationship a secret for the time being. For days, it’s been a secret, but I’m tired of it.
We agreed to tell the world, starting tonight with my sister.
Willow greets us at the door, then backs away. “Come in, come in.”
She stops each of us for a hug, and I’m sure the vein in my neck is going to finally pop. I’m impatient to tell her our news.
As Willow leads the way to their expansive kitchen, Clara squeezes my hand discreetly. “You’re blue in the face.”
“I’m ready to tell her about us,” I whisper.
“I’m ready too, but we just got here.” She blushes.
“If you weren’t so adorable…”
Zach steps away from the stove with his hands in the air when we enter. “I was only smelling the food.”
“Specks of meatloaf just flew out of your mouth.” My sister tsks.
“Okay, it was just a taste test.” He greets us and
