“That’s what I thought,” I say, grinning smugly. “Now,pleasego wash that shit off your face, or else I will eat your pie instead.”
“Donottouch my strawberry rhubarb pie! You have your own danged apple pie!”
“I ate that hours ago,” I admit.
Brooks huffs now, “What, so you’re just going to sit there while I eat mine?”
“No… I still have something I’d like to eat.”
“If you saymy pussy, I swear to god, Evan—”
I chuckle, nipping at his neck. “You’ll what? Enjoy it? Scream so loud all of Ternbay Harbor will know I’ve turned you out?”
He tries to subdue a smile. “Probably.”
I give him a playful swat on the ass. “Get that beautiful ass in the bathroom, and wash. It. Off.”
He mock salutes me, before skipping back into the bathroom. I swear to fuck, I have to be the luckiest man alive. There isn’t a day that goes by that I do not fall head over heels for my husband, over and over again.
I never thought I’d be able to say that, either. I never thought I’d be able to live so authentically, so proud to gush about my talented, handsome partner to anyone and everyone. I never imagined I could be so fucking free to just be me.
It feels damn good, like a giant hug sent straight from the cosmos.
Long gone is that vicious voice in my head, the one that tortured me for so many years. Well, Gordy’s voice, but the words that came from decades of cutting myself down. Brooks was riding the surf right along with me the entire time I rode out that tsunami—the ebb and flow of feeling on top of the world one day, and right back at square other days.
He healed me, just like the mental health champion he is.
My phone chimes with an incoming text, while I’m waiting for Brooks to scrub his face.
Gan
Lysol wipes are in the bathroom cabinet, under the sink. Please, I beg of you, clean ALL THE SURFACES before you get back to the marina.
I quickly text him back with a middle finger emoji—yes, the only one I’ve managed to get adept with using—and ditch my phone. I’ve got more important things I need to focus on, like the sight of my fresh-faced man, all dressed up in his lingerie, looking like the perfect snack.
“Babe!” Brooks yelps, shaking me out of the slumber I so desperately needed after last night. “Babe! Wake up! We’re going to be so late!”
“Mmmph,” I groan into my pillow. “Why did you have to tell Morgan we’d dobrunchwith her?”
“She insisted, you know I can’t say no to her,” he presses, shaking me some more. Without unburying my face, I try to swat him off.
While Brooks has learned to grow a backbone with certain people, our kids and their partners don’t seem to be any of those certain people.
“She insisted, huh?” I ask him, finally looking up and getting blasted in the face with sunlight pouring in through the tiny windows. “She going give us news of another grandbaby now too?”
Brooks’ eyes widen, and his jaw tenses.
“Ha, not so ‘relax, it’s fiiiine’when the tables are turned, is it?” I taunt.
“I—it would be fine,” he stammers. “Yeah, it’d be fine,” he reiterates with yet no more conviction, even after taking a deep breath.
I reach up and run my fingers through his hair. “Hey”—I tilt his chin down to look at me—“breathe. It was a joke.”
He nods, gulping.
“What would be the scariest thing about it, if she was?” I quiz him, employing one of his tactics. Seeing that look in his eye, I spin over, so I’m laying on my back, and I shove the blanket down, exposing my naked cock.
He sighs and rests his head on my lap, but instead of holding me in his mouth, he just gently strokes me—giving his hands something to do while he calms himself down. I card my fingers through his hair while he thinks out loud. “She and Taryn haven’t been together as long as Colton and Nikolas,” he finally murmurs.
