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ChapterTwenty-Seven
VANESSA
Remind me to believe Beau when he says to trust him. A southern gal like me loves to push the envelope but when he pulled out the trust game—let’s just say it was definitely rated R and not a game employees should play.
He blindfolds me, asking me to place my trust in him. Of course, I trust him, but this is another level. I feel around in the basket, pulling out an object from a basket and handing it to him. He decides what to do with the object. He pulls down my pants and skims the long rough stick over my thighs and between my legs. I have to have faith that he won’t put it somewhere I don’t want.
Next, it’s his turn. He pulls out an object, inspects it with his hands then I take it. A cold piece of clay. I press it over his nose, making a clay mask, then kiss his lips. He can’t see nor really smell. Then I roll it into a long fat string, pull down his pants and measure his girth and length. I’m certain he’s bigger than when we were kids, but I didn’t need the clay to measure. I kiss him gently, over and over, until he rips off the blindfold and my clothes.
We end up trusting each other for another hour. I recommend this game for couples needing to reconnect.
Hiking a trail that winds and ends by the creek, I suggest, “We should start a business for couple’s needing to reconnect. But maybe a bit more reclusive. After their exercises then have a catered dinner in the cabin complete with a Barron’s Bourbon cocktail.”
He shifts his attention to my mouth. “Always working, even after that groundbreaking orgasm.”
“What can I say? You inspire me.” I wrap my arms around his neck, peer into his eyes. “You always have.”
His voice is leathery and low. “There’s no one else for me but you.” He pulls a piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to me.
Will you be my girlfriend?
The paper is damp from rolling around on the ground during our blindfold game. The ink is feathered in places, but its unmistakably Beau’s handwriting.
The edges of his lips tip upward as he awaits my response. He’s a hopeless romantic, and I’ve never loved him more than I do at this moment. For him to right a wrong and to keep choosing me, despite the secret I kept from him—He’s perfect.
My hands cover his jaw and I whisper into his mouth. “Yes. Thank you.” Then I take my shoes off, roll up my yoga pants, grab his hands, and we walk in the cold creek, just like we used to.
“I can’t believe you bought this place.”
“Subconsciously, I guess I hoped we’d get back together. Or maybe I just needed to be close to the memories. So, you remember?”
He wraps his arms around my waist, clasping them at the small of my back. “Kissing in the cold creek when we were dog-sitting for Mr. and Mrs. Bell? Yeah, we were fourteen. It was the first time you copped a feel.” I lift an eyebrow.
“Believe me I tried many times before that, but I was…”
“Scared.”
“Yeah, I didn’t want to give you a reason to break up with me.”
The Bell’s had a motivational speaking business, so they traveled often. Beau and I dog sat at least fifty times over the years. I always loved this house and land, partially because of all the things that happened here. Our second time was in this house.
The rocks are slippery and smooth beneath us, and I lose my balance but Beau helps me to correct my stance before I fall into the creek. Soon, we’re standing by the tree we used to climb; the tree our initials are carved into. “Let’s leave a new mark on it,” I say. “Do you have a knife, since we’re playingSurvivortoday?”
He flips out a pocket knife with multiple tools on it. That’s my Beau, always prepared. He scratches the infinity symbol into the bark. Then hands me the knife. “Your turn.”
There’s nothing more than forever so I tap my finger against my lips. I carve the numbers 222 into the tree. His eyes narrow, trying to figure out the significance. He shifts his weight and tucks me under his arm like he used to do when we were in high school with the cold leather sleeves of his letterman jacket over my arms.
“In Nashville, I had a friend that was into numerology and the numbers 222 represent trust and balance. Commitment and love. That’s what I want for us. I want to know that no matter what, you won’t walk away. And that I won’t let you. I should have chased you.”
His lips gently sweep over mine. It’s so tender but I can feel my core already burning with desire. Now that Beau has been inside me multiple times, I want it more and more.
“Let’s take this inside.”
When we walk into the den, it’s full of flickering candles. It’s late afternoon but the sky is becoming darker with a thunderstorm in the forecast. “Did you do this?”
Beau tugs me into him, kissing me. “I had help. Scotty and Wynter came by and lit the candles while we were reconnecting.” His hands skim the outline of my hair. “I need to make sure the group leaders have the generators ready just in case power goes out. Maverick’s city slicker employees will probably freak out.
After making a few calls, he proceeds to uncork a bottle of wine. With a confident stride, he presses an open-lipped kiss to my mouth before handing me the stemless goblet. He sits on the shaggy rug and swirls his wine, watching the plum color liquid slide around the glass.
