Page 24 of Sweet Beloved

“You want to go to bed, sweetheart?” I ask.

She’s sitting at her desk. I made that for her with my own two hands, put together with pine from Ryder Ranch. It’s pale wood, three sided, and houses her laptop, tax receipts, and inventory sheets for the café.

She lifts her head, eyes a little tired. “Yeah, I just finished the schedule for next week,” she yawns, sitting back.

I step in, closing the door, and go to her. She smiles as I crouch by her chair, running my palms up her thighs.

“You’re so happy Hazel is pregnant, aren’t you?” I say.

She smiles, bright blue gaze softening. “I’m so happy,” she affirms softly. “And you were right. He came home.”

I glance around at her stacks of paperwork. The last few years of learning to be a business owner held their fair share of challenges, but she met them head on, with determination. I held her hand in mine every step of the way. Now, she has a thriving business with two employees and a catering company on the side.

It’s fair to say, she’s comfortable now.

“I think we made it, sweetheart,” I say.

She touches my face, tracing my tattoos the way she always does. Leaning in, she kisses my mouth slowly. My breathing deepens as I kiss her back. My fingers tighten on her thighs. When I break away, her smile is peaceful, satisfied.

“You want to take this upstairs?” she whispers.

“Fuck, yeah, I do,” I say, sliding my hands under her legs and hoisting her up. She laughs, wrapping her arms around my neck and her thighs around my waist.

“Just be quiet,” she begs.

“How about I just shove your panties in your mouth?” I whisper.

She gasps, but before she can speak, I shift her in my arms so she’s laying across them. Her face softens, one arm locking around my shoulders. I could look for some words to encompass everything we feel right now.

But I don’t think there’s a word to sum up a lifetime well lived.

Instead, I carry her upstairs to our bed.

THE END