“There was this Italian place down the street from my grandparents’ house that made the old-fashioned real pizza. The bread was thin but soft. And they used the thick slices of mozzarella cheese on top, not the shredded stuff. God, it was so good. Just thinking about it brings up some of my best memories.”
“It sounds amazing,” Colby agrees, fingers playing with my curls. He loves to do that. My curls are his catnip.
“What about you?”
“I love a good bowl of ice cream.”
“That’s dessert!”
Colby smacks my ass with a chuckle. “It’s a food, brat.”
I shift a little to look him in the eyes, trying to look as annoyed as I can. “Pick something that’s not a dessert.”
He huffs, eyes glinting with mischief. “I love pickles.”
“Pickles,” I repeat in shock. “Pickles?”
“Yeah, the ones in the barrels at the grocery stores.”
I gag at the thought. “You can keep your pickles.”
He just shrugs. “More for me.”
I lie back down on his chest to stare out at the horizon. One of his hands rests at the small of my back, a comforting weight, while the other cards through my curls. I must nod off because it’s dark when I wake up. A flash of color bleeds into the room, followed by a boom, and I gasp when I realize it’s fireworks.
“Colby!” I excitedly shout as I roughly shake him awake.
He blinks up at me in sleepy confusion, then angles his head to take in the fireworks. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
We shuffle out onto the balcony to watch the fireworks. I lean against the railing with a smile tugging at my lips. Fireworks!God, it makes me feel like a little kid. Colby wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me tightly to him, and I tilt my head against his chest. What a perfect day.
Colby pulls his phone out of his pocket and puts on a playlist of slow songs. Nothing I immediately recognize. He pulls away from the railing, spinning me so that he’s holding me in the cage of his strong arms. With one arm around his shoulder, and my other hand held in his, he guides us in a slow dance as the fireworks pop in the sky.
“What’s a dream you’ve always had?” he asks as he looks tenderly down at me.
“To dance in front of the fireworks at the beach,” I murmur helplessly. The truth is that my dream has always been to be romanced, to be loved, and Colby has been slowly making that dream come true these past few days. The fireworks are the easiest truth I can offer him.
A teasing smirk tilts his lips up. “Really?”
I nod up at him, biting my lip. “Yeah, husband. You?”
His hand tightens on the small of my back, bringing me closer against the warmth of his body. “I’ve always wanted kids. I grew up in a big, loving, southern family. Marcus never wanted them though. He was my dream, so I gave my other dream up for him. But I’ve thought about it a lot since losing him. Having kids. I think I’d be a great dad.”
The way he sounds so sad, so wistful for a future he’s not sure he can have, absolutely tears me apart. I wish I could give him that. I hope he can have that dream one day. I need him to have it.
I kiss his cheek, then nuzzle my face against his. “You’ve still got time. Maybe one day.”
“Yeah,” Colby says sadly. “Maybe one day.”
We dance quietly for a little while longer, until the fireworks finish. But we hold each other long after we’ve stopped dancing.I try to wrangle my wild heart, but it’s a stallion that won’t listen to my fervent pleas to behave.
7
COLBY
Complete and utter perfection. Those words don’t do last night justice. Not even close. Last night wasbeyondperfect.
The joy on Eli’s face just from the fireworks … I wish I could put that look on his face every day for the rest of my life. His smile lights up his entire face, like the fireworks lit up the sky the night before. Then we slow danced. My sometimes still fragile heart beat like a stampede of wild horses in my chest as I held him and swayed to the pop of fireworks.
