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“I need you, Cannon. Inside me. Now.” My voice gets lost in another moan.
A low chuckle brushes my neck. “Glad to hear that, Trouble. That’s exactly where I plan to be.” Lucas adjusts his position and slides inside me. With each thrust of his hips, I’m propelled closer to the edge. Closer to shattering. Closer, closer, closer.
His movements are slow, deliberate. There’s no rush to the finish line, no race for completion. Something has shifted between us. Shifted. Collided. Sparked. Lava boils inside me, sweeping me up in the tide, creating something new and shiny.
A shard of colorful glass.
Lucas switches his pace, pumping harder, faster. My soft inner muscles clench his thick length, and I splinter into a million sparkling fragments.
I cry out my release.
Lucas comes apart soon after, his mouth at the nook of my neck.
He lowers himself onto me, his body a welcome weight. His head rests where my heart beats strong and rapid. His fingers trace along the faint scar across my stomach. He hasn’t asked any more questions about it. I’m grateful he doesn’t bring it up now.
We lie on the bed, not saying anything, catching our breath. Lucas’s fingertips lightly explore my body. His touch is soothing against the memories from ten years ago.
Soothing against my fears about what the future might bring.
36
Simone
Thursday afternoon, I drive to Ash Falls to meet with my second artisan of the day.
“These are gorgeous.” I inspect the palm-sized, wrought-iron candleholder with intricate swirls and hearts. Katie handcrafted it. Even the candles are handmade by her, with various petals captured in the pastel-colored wax. “They’re perfect for my premium subscription boxes.”
I tell her how many subscribers I currently have for that level. Her eyes grow as round as a tea candle.
“How long will it take you to make that many?” I ask.
“I have several other orders I need to do first. Due to the elaborate design of these”—she picks up the design I love—“I would say three months.”
We agree on a date and a payment plan.
By the time I leave her house, my body feels like it’s been filled with hydrogen, and I can’t hold back my grin. My premium box subscribers will love Katie’s beautiful work.
I walk along the sidewalk toward where I parked my car. Roses, lavender, daylilies, peonies are in full bloom in the gardens lining the path, reminding me I should start thinking about what flowers I want to plant in Lucas’s garden for next year. No. Not Lucas’s. Our garden.
The sound of giggles behind me tugs hard at my heart. The girl’s laughter is full of life. I close my eyes, letting the sound wrap around me. Letting myself imagine for the briefest moment the laugh belongs to Lily.
At one time those little girl giggles would have left me in tears. Would have seen my soul ripped into shreds.
I breathe in deeply. Let the mountain air soothe me.
The girl giggles again. I open my eyes and turn to see what made her laugh.
She’s across the street, and looks to be about nine or ten years old. Lily’s age. Or what she would be if she were still with me. The girl is petite with long, light-blond hair that glows in the sunlight. Like a fairy. A fairy wearing shorts and a pale-pink T-shirt.
She spins around, and it’s only then that I notice her hopscotch partner. Lucas?
Lucas grins at the girl as if she’s his entire universe wrapped up in a glittery pink bow. He crouches in front of her, hugs her. Still holding on to her, he stands and swings her in a circle.
She giggles some more.
My hand goes to my stomach where his daughter once grew, and I try to breathe through the pain.
During those rare times in the beginning when I wasn’t struggling with grief, I wondered what Lucas would be like as a father. And now I know.
