“And those dark eyes—I could sink and drown in those eyes—are they mine too?”
I nodded, lids falling closed as he touched feather-soft kisses across them. My fingers curled and slid to his neck.
He kissed me again—sweeping his tongue through my mouth as his callused hand skimmed down my arm to press our palms together. “And this hand that could lead me anywhere and I’d follow?” He threaded his fingers through mine and turned the back of my hand to his mouth for a kiss.
“Yes.”
His left hand stroked over my hip and curved over my side. “This body,” he whispered, trailing our joined hands down the center of my chest. “Will it surrender under my hands? If I swear to worship you from the top of your head to your toes and everyfuckingthing between?” At my nod, he left my hand low on my belly, his palm roaming back to cover my heart. “And this heart, above all else. Does this heart belong to me?”
“All yours,” I said. “Always yours.”
The realization that followed was like the sun surrounding his head the day I died and didn’t die. That little boy, kneeling at my side, holding my hand, telling me to wake up—he didn’t have a perfect life, but he hadn’t been damaged yet. He hadn’t been disappointed and misunderstood, neglected and battered. He hadn’t suffered the loss that was coming for him.
He hadn’t needed salvation that day—I had. He had saved me, and his love for me had somehow saved him. I felt no pride about that. Just gratitude and relief that I finally had my finger on the pulse of our shared heart. Not just Boyce’s and mine, but everyone we knew and everyone we’d ever known. We were all parts of this interconnected life. We existed for it and because of it and sometimes in spite of it.
Life was part survival and part contentment, and in each other, we’d found both of those things. Whether that was miracle or fate or coincidence, I’d take it. I’d take it with both hands.
Epilogue
Nine months later
Boyce
“I know this is where I’m supposed to say, ‘If you don’t want to do this, we can jump in my car and get the fuck outta here.’ Sorry, Wynn. She’s the best you’ll ever do and we both know it.” Maxfield chuckled, watching from the second-story window as guests arrived while I paced on the opposite side of the room. “When she’s too good for you, man, you don’t run. You thank your lucky stars and hold on tight.”
“Thanks for the confidence booster, asshole,” I grumbled, moving next to him to glance out the window at the cloudless blue sky. Pearl couldn’t have ordered a day that looked more like a postcard. Dr. and Mrs. Frank had rented out the whole inn to house all the out-of-town guests, the courtyard for the ceremony, and the dining room for the reception.
Maxfield smirked and grasped my shoulder. “You don’t need any more confidence, Wynn. You got that girl. All I can figure is you must be fucking amazing in ways I do not want to know.”
Ray Maxfield knocked and stuck his head around the door. “You boys about ready?”
Maxfield held up a finger. His dad nodded and shut the door.
“In all seriousness, man. It shouldn’t be me standing next to you today.”
I frowned, confused, but then I knew—Brent.
“Since I never knew him, I’ve talked to a few people about Brent—Thompson and his mom, old Hendrickson, and of course, Arianna. He was a war hero when he died, but first and foremost he was a protective big brother. He was a good man. And he raised a good man.” He clapped my shoulder. “He’d be so fucking proud of you.”
Fuck. “Maxfield, don’t make me lose my shit right now, for chrissakes.” My voice shook.
“Almost done—just one more thing.” He looked me in the eye. “I didn’t have a brother growing up. You’re as close as I ever got, and damn if you weren’t exactly what I needed. I’m honored to stand up with you today.” He jerked me in for a hug and I went easy because I needed a minute. “Don’t forget what I said, man,” he said. “Just hold on tight.”
He slapped my back and I slapped his. We separated and shrugged our shoulders. Torn between the desire to punch him in the face or hug him again, I heaved a deep breath. “Sorry Dover will be standing across from you during the ceremony, by the way.”
He shrugged. “This is Pearl’s day, and I was over that shit a long time ago. My only concern is if she gets catty with Jacqueline, because she will find herself face-first on the ground and eating dirt.”
“Oh man, what I’d give to see that. Just… not today.” Melody Dover had been almost accepting since Pearl’s and my engagement. I reckoned she’d assumed it wouldn’t last, but here we were. She still bit my head off when the opportunity arose, and she’d cornered me for a convincing Hurt my girl and I’ll cut your nuts off speech night before last, but I sorta respected her for that.
“I’ll ask Jacqueline to hold off on any ass-kicking until after the reception.”
“Deal. You got the ring?”
He pulled a small pouch from his pocket. “Got it. Randy outdid himself.”
I’d gone to Thompson last fall and told him what I wanted. A ruby stone for her July birthday. A few small diamonds. A design with all the stones completely inset so she could slide lab gloves over it and whatever else she did for work or research without catching it on anything. The ideas he sketched out were cool, but they didn’t do justice to the finished product.