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Fuck, it’s rough out here. It’s cold and wild and windy, this morning’s sunshine long buried by thick clouds. Spots of rain lash my cheeks, and I grip the rail as I follow Jessica around the tower walkway, my fingertips already numb. She steps so carefully ahead of me, arms spread like a tightrope walker as her sweatshirt flaps around her waist.
I clipped that safety line on Jessica to makeherfeel better, but I’m the one who’s glad for it now. I’d be sick with worry otherwise, not letting her out of arm’s reach.
“Murray?” Though she’s shouting, her voice is quiet, snatched away on the wind. I catch up in three strides, crowding against her back to shelter her from the gale.
Jessica grips the railing, white-knuckled. She squints out to sea against the rain, and I grip the bar on either side of her. Penning her in. Keeping her close. The water’s darker now, the waves choppy and quick, and there are no seabirds flying. They’re sheltering on the cliffs if they’re smart.
“You’re doing well.” My words rumble directly from my chest into her back, and Jessica shivers in response. The spots of rain are darker on her clothes, and when she turns her head, they cling to her glasses.
“It’s kind of scary out here.”
I nod, leaning down so my chin brushes the top of her head. “Sometimes.”
She’s quiet for a long moment. I know what’s eating my bride.
“You can ask me about it.”
Jessica stays silent, but she shuffles back half a step. Presses the length of her body against my front, and though I need to stay sharp, need to focus while we’re out here, I can’t help but nudge against her in return. Can’t help the way my blood heats and my muscles tighten.
She’s so small compared to me. Soft and elfin and perfect, her flyaway hairs tickling my throat.
“My scars. You can ask me about them.”
Jessica grips the rail tighter, and when she speaks, her voice is so thin I barely hear her. “What happened, Murray?”
“I was swimming.” That will help her feel better, I hope, because I didn’t fall off this tower. No one ever has. It was nothing like that—nothing that could happen to her, especially while I’m around. Jessica’s too smart to make my mistakes, anyway.
“I was thirteen and thought I was the big man, you know? Shot up fast, put bulk on too, and it went to my head. Thought I could swim in any weather. Thought I was tougher than the sea.”
Lord, this is the most I’ve talked in one go for years. Already, my throat’s dry and rasping, and the tip of my tongue tastes like salt.
“I grew up in a town nearby. Went swimming most mornings at dawn before school. And one morning it was extra rough, but I thought I could handle it. Boys, you know?”
Jessica nods, and her hands slide out a few inches, skating across the rail until our fingers tangle together. My racing heart slows.
“A big wave caught me. Threw me against the rocks down there.” Her slender fingers tighten on mine, and I can’t resist adding: “Face first.”
“That’sawful.” Her thumbs are stroking over my knuckles, and I know it’s messed up, but it doesn’t feel awful, not right now. Not if it brought me to this.
“I’ll be honest, Jessica.” I press the words against her hair. “It was never a moneymaker, this face.”
She laughs and bumps me with her hip, and I feel so fucking light. Lighter than my heavy bones and thick middle should allow.
“So you gonna see this lantern?”
Jessica spins in my arms to look, but I don’t move out the way. I stay rooted in place, staring down at her, caged in my arms. She’s wet and shivering, really working the drowned rat look, and though it makes me uglier, I can’t hold back a grin.
“You’re soaked through.”
She flicks my chest. My own flannel shirt is sopping wet, clinging to my body. “I am.”
“You want to head inside soon?”
Jessica lifts a shoulder. “Yeah.”
But I don’t move, andshedoesn’t move, not until she reaches up slowly and cups my scarred cheek, the ruined skin half buried by my beard, though it’s patchier on that side. The wind whips at our clothes and hair.
“Does it hurt?” Her thumb strokes back and forth. Back and forth, burning a trail over me.
