I choked out a laugh. I considered them my brothers, and I knew logically they wouldn’t just disappear on me. But fear wasn’t usually rational.
Beckett continued, his voice softer. “You are not, never have been, and never will be, a placeholder to me. Clara, you are the center of my world, the axis around which I exist. Without you, I would drift into nothingness.” He took a breath, and I noticed the catch in his voice when he continued.
“I never said anything before because I was afraid. You would come to me and talk about the guys you dated and complain about them, and I secretly liked being the one guy in your life you didn’t need to worry about. I liked being the one you came to for help and comfort. I didn’t tell you how I felt because I didn’t want you to think I’d been playing some game or ploy in order to get in your pants. I couldn’t risk losing you.” His voice broke on the last few words.
Oh.
“But then you showed up at the barn that morning, demanding answers about what I’d muttered under my breath, if I meant it, and you were wearing that damn sundress. You were so … you, in that moment – fearless and stubborn and beautiful – I couldn’t hold myself back anymore.”
I blushed at his words, at the compliment. My body heated at the memory of that first kiss, and what had followed after.
“Beckett, I – I don’t know what to say.” His eyes were on me, and I couldn’t look away. “I had no idea, about any of it.”
He pulled me closer –to the cushion next to where he sat. Close enough that our bodies touched, his warmth seeping into me. He still held my hand, and whispered, “Say you still want this. Say you understand I’ll never leave, you’ll always be mine and I’ll always be yours.”
Yes. Yes, to all of it. I wanted all of whatever life would throw at us. As long as I had Beckett, would come home to him every day and wake up to him every morning, everything would be okay.
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I settled into the surety of my decision. Beckett noticed and pulled me onto his lap. His fingers were gentle as he brushed away the few drops that had escaped down my cheeks.
“Clara, my love. Don’t cry,” he whispered.
“I want this,” I whispered back, dropping my forehead to press against his. I placed my hand on his chest, over his heart. The unsteady beat somehow calmed me. At least I wasn’t the only one affected by this. I continued with the words he’d given me.
“I understand you’ll never leave me. I’ll always be yours, and you’ll always be mine.”
Beckett used a finger to tip my chin up until our eyes met. There were tears in his eyes, too. “My fierce little wren. I love you.”
“I love you, Beckett.”
“Clara,” he whispered. “My Clara.” He kissed my lips softly, almost reverently. “You’re mine.” His grip tightened on my hips. Beckett kissed his way down my neck and nipped at the sensitive spot where it meets my shoulder.
I gasped and pulled his mouth back to mine. Beckett’s grip on my hips tightened as he kissed me again. It was slow and deep, unhurried – as if he could spend all day doing only this. I wrapped my arms around his neck and slid my fingers into his hair. Beckett groaned and the rumble of it reverberated against me.
I slid my tongue across his lips, desperate for more. He answered my unspoken request and slid his tongue against mine.
He pulled away after a few seconds, breathing heavily.
“We don’t – Clara, I don’t want you to think I came here expecting you to fall into bed with me – we can take it slow if you want to.”
Absolutely not. I wanted him – all of him.
I cupped his face in my hands and kissed him, a gentle expression of understanding and gratitude. Then I extricated myself from his arms and lap and held out a hand.
He eyed me warily, but he stood and grasped my hand. I walked backwards, leading him to my bedroom.
“Beckett Ashland, you had better take me to bed and ease this ache.”
A grin of wicked delight appeared on Beckett’s face. He clicked the bedroom door shut behind him, but I kept walking backwards until my legs bumped the bed.
Beckett stalked toward me. “You ache for me?” His voice was low and rough as he neared enough that our chests almost touched. He played with the hem of my long tee.
I could only nod in response, hyperaware of his fingers grazing my thighs.
Beckett licked his lips before he said, “Let me help with that.” He lifted the shirt over my head and tossed it to the corner of the bed.
The cool air was a shock against my heated skin, but it was the need in Beckett’s green eyes that made me shiver.
He traced the outside of my breasts with his knuckles and whispered, “Beautiful.”
