He lowers his mouth to mine and all of my sorrows seem to melt away. He’s a whisper of hope upon my lips, steadfast and true; giving me the one thing I need the most right now—his love. His hands move to my hips while his tongue wars with mine in a quest to brand me in some way but he doesn’t have to.
My heart has always belonged to him.
I sigh into his mouth, tilting my head to deepen the kiss. His groan of pleasure prompts me to fist the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. Those hands digging into my hips move to cradle my face as he begins to slow the kiss. “To know I can kiss you anytime I want is something I’ll never get used to.”
I smile, opening my eyes to find his staring back at me with great intensity. “Who said you can kiss me anytime you want?”
He kisses me again with even more possession. “You sayin’ I can’t?”
“We need to be careful around Caroline. At least until we figure things out.”
“I won’t rush you. I want you to heal, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure that happens but you’re mine now. I don’t know any other way to say it. I just know I can’t go another day without you by my side. Life is too damn short for that. We’re in this together, Syl. We always have been.”
This is so far away from the boy who was once afraid to tell me how he felt all those years ago. This is a man who knows exactly what he wants, and he isn’t wasting any more time.
“I come with a lot of baggage, Linc. A little girl who lost her father, and then there’s me. There’s not much left but a few broken pieces. I’m not the girl I was back then.”
“That’s not true. I know exactly who you are. You’re the girl who could always make me smile, even on the shittiest of days. The girl who stole my heart in the fifth grade and never gave it back. That’s who you are. Life may have shaped you to be the woman you are today, but all of those parts are still there. Every memory we ever shared, they’re all still there. And I plan on reminding you of every single one.”
Present
He’s been over every night this week. We haven’t delved into the past much. It’s hard to do that with Caroline around, but the memories just continue to come.
Mostly we’ve talked about what he’s been up to. His third album, titledGrandeur,will drop in a few weeks. When I asked him why he named it after our tiny little town, he told me most of the album’s songs were all about coming home or enjoying the grander things in life. I haven’t had a chance to listen to them all yet. I’m nervous about it actually. Linc’s music has always been special to me. I can relate to it. I don’t know if it’s because we’ve always been so close or because we come from the same place but every song he’s ever written has some kind of lifeline to my soul.
Tonight we’re going to Gwynn’s for supper. I’m excited to get out of the house and so is Caroline. I even made a big deal about getting dressed up. Well, not too dressed up. Just enough to make it girlie and fun. I put on one of my old sundresses and spent a little extra time on my hair and makeup, something I haven’t done lately. Caroline is wearing a pink shirt, her favorite floral skirt that hits just above the knee with a cute little ruffle along the hem, and her baby pink chucks. I braided her dark locks into two French braids on each side. She’s been anxious to get here all day and as soon as we step on the porch, Linc opens the front door.
“There’s my girls.”
Per her usual greeting, Caroline throws her arms around his waist. “Hey, Linc.”
“Hey, sweet girl.”
“Where’s Gwynnie?”
“She’s in the kitchen. Why don’t you go run in and say hi,” Linc says.
Once she’s out of sight, he steps out onto the porch, closing the door behind him.
He’s dressed in his customary threadbare jeans and a navy blue Dawson’s brewery T-shirt.
“Nice shirt,” I comment when he takes me in his arms.
The palm of my hand balances the plate of peach bars I made for dessert as his mouth moves to my ear. “I’ll let you wear it later if you want,” he mutters, and I can feel the hidden meaning of his words tingling down below.
He presses a kiss to my burning cheek, intensifying the tingle to a hot ache.
“Did you bring me treats?” he asks, pulling away.
“Peach bars.” Taking the plate, he clasps my hand with his own, leading me inside.
“Oh wow, it smells incredible in here.”
“I made roast.”
“Youmade roast?” I ask suspiciously.
“Hey, I’ve improved on my culinary skills.” He winks over his shoulder. “With Mama’s help of course.”
