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Not jewelry. But equally significant.
“You’re killing us, K,” Oliver whines from his spot next to the tree.
I roll my eyes at him. “Shush, you.” Then I shift my gaze to Travis. “Really?”
Hand on my thigh, he strokes my denim-clad leg with his thumb. “Only if you want to.”
My eyes drift back to the key with the questionmove in?etched on the bow, a buzz swirling beneath my diaphragm.
Are we ready for this? To move in together?
Yes, I have known Travis for years. Our chemistry has been fire as far back as I remember. But everything is still new with us. Relationships have never been my strong suit. And his last relationship was when?
Moving in together feels like going from zero to a hundred in a blink.
And I don’t know if I am ready for the next step.
FORTY
TRAVIS
“Can you give us a moment?”I say to the room, not taking my eyes off Kirsten.
Oliver groans as he sidles up to Lawrence. “I’m always the last to know,” he mutters.
Mom rests her hand on my shoulder, bends, and kisses my temple without a word. Seconds later, Dad gives my shoulder a squeeze, then pats it once before he follows Mom out of the room.
Since Kirsten’s abduction, Dad has bombarded me less with what it means to be an Emerson in Stone Bay. Something about that night changed him. Hell, that night changed us all. But maybe it was the close call of another victim on his watch that gave him perspective. Maybe it was the fact his eldest son was in the scariest situation this town has seen in decades. Or maybe he got a true glimpse of how precious and short our time truly is on earth.
Whatever the reason, it is nice to see this softer, more affectionate side of him. To know he’s proud of me as a man and a protector.
Once the room clears and no one stands within earshot, I bring a hand to Kirsten’s chin and lift her gaze to mine. Tears rim her stormy irises as her bottom lip starts to quiver. With a slow shake of my head, I brush the pad of my thumb over that plump lip.
“Please don’t cry, sunshine.” I lean in and press my lips to her forehead. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” Inching back, I cup her cheeks in my palms. Stroke her soft skin with my calloused thumbs. “If you’re not ready or if this isn’t something you want, tell me. I won’t be mad.” Dropping my forehead to hers, I hold her stare. “It just feels right… taking the next step with you,” I confess on a whisper.
Her brow furrows as her eyes dart between mine. “What if I mess this up?”
“Moving?” Incredulity laces the single-word question.
With a roll of her eyes, she huffs. “No, smart ass.” On an audible swallow, she trails her fingers up my forearms and curls them around my wrists. “Us. Our relationship.” Her eyes fall shut as her breathing picks up. “I’ve never done this. Committed to someone.”
“Hey,” I whisper, my lips a breath from hers. “Look at me, please.” Thumbs stroking her cheeks, I give her a moment. Let her do this at her pace. And when her red, veiny eyes meet mine, tears sting the backs of my own. “I love you, Kirsten. Confessing that truth…” I inhale a shaky breath. “It terrifies me.”
“I love you, too.” Tears roll down her cheeks in parallel lines and I wipe them away. “And I want to say yes, but…”
Silent, I wait for her to say more, to finish her thought. But nothing comes.
“But what, baby?”
“What if I l-lose you?” she chokes out the words as more tears spill down her cheeks.
I swipe at the tears, then kiss the wet stains on her cheeks. “Not a chance in hell, sunshine.”
Kirsten inches back and looks over my shoulder. Curiosity eats at me, but I don’t turn to see who has her attention. I simply watch her as she stares on and gets lost in thought. I tuck loose strands behind her ear. Trail a finger down her jaw, following the action with my eyes. Study the edges of her soft, plump lips and lick my own. Sweep my way slowly up the bridge of her nose, over the faint patch of freckles, until my eyes meet hers.
“When Mom started spending more time with Joseph,” she pauses and takes a steadying breath, “I was so angry.” She worries her lips between her teeth. “I thought, how can she disrespect my dad like that? How can she show interest in someone else?”
Something about her confession tells me to remain tight-lipped and give her this opportunity. A chance to release a weight she has carried far too long. To let go of the guilt or shame shadowing her soul.
