I press my body to his and bring my face close to his while reaching a hand into his hair so I can keep his face right where it is. “I love you.”
He inhales a long breath before exhaling it. “Talk to me.”
“And tell you what you already know?” Griff usually knows my thoughts and feelings before I figure them out. “I actually don’t think I need to talk this out. I think I just needed to hear you say that we didn’t give up too soon.”
He grips my waist. “Ineed to hear you talk it out.”
It’s not often Griff bleeds, and not often that he lets me see his blood, but with that statement, I see the deep cut that still needs tending. And I hear his pain that lingers. Pain that I know won’t ever leave either of us.
I was the one whose body lost four babies, but Griff was the one who held us together, who carried the burden without stumbling once, who walked a million miles bloody and bruised without asking for help.
Curving my leg over his, I kiss him. Slowly, giving him what I know he needs. Even though he wants to hear me talk it out, Griff isn’t a big talker. His love language is touch. He needs me physically.
He also needs my submission, and not just physically. So, after I end our kiss, I give him the rest of what he needs now.
“Watching Magan pregnant this year has been one of the best things of my life, but it’s also been hard. It’s stirred a lot up for me and my brain has been on an endless loop of ‘what ifs’ that I thought I was done with.”
My sister delivered a healthy baby girl two months ago, and while Harper is a light in my life, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t experienced some dark days this year.
The look in Griff’s eyes tells me that he wishes I’d talked with him about this sooner. “You’re still running the ‘what ifs’?”
“Yes. But I don’t want you to worry about this.”
“Sweetheart, there’s not a day I don’t worry about you.” He brushes hair off my face, his touch gentle and loving.
“I know, and I love you for that, but I really don’t want you to worry about this. I think it’s probably to be expected that Harper’s birth would bring all this up for me. I’m going to journal and sit with it. I think it’s just another layer for me to peel back and work my way through.” I bring my hand down from his hair to his neck. “Do you ever question our choice?”
The thing that Griff has always given me that has gotten us through some bleak moments is his steadfast resolve and he gives me that again now. “I think about it, but I don’t question it. We made the right choice for you, for your body, and for us. And I would make the same decision again, without question.”
Tears that I didn’t know were close fill my eyes. I read once that sometimes when we feel unexpectedly emotional like I am, it’s the body’s way of expressing that a need has just been met. A need we’ve been neglecting.
Although Griff has said this to me before, many times, I needed to hear it again. I needed to hear that he’s okay with the fact I couldn’t give him a family. That he’s okay we put me first.
Through my tears, I whisper, “Thank you for saying that.”
He wipes my tears and wraps his arm around me, holding me close. “I’ll say that every day if you need me to, Sophia.”
God, I love this man like I’ve never loved anyone.
“I know you would.” I stay in his embrace for a long time, taking the love he’s giving me, before finally looking up at him. “I don’t need you to say that every day.” I brush my lips over his. “You’ve just given me everything I need.”
His gaze drops to my throat. “What have you got on this morning?”
“I know where your thoughts have gone, and I don’t have time for any of whatever you’re planning right now. I’m meeting the girls at seven for breakfast.”
He pays little attention to what I say as he runs his eyes down my body.
“Griff, stop thinking about what you want to do to me.”
There’s heat in his eyes when he finds my gaze again. “I’m always thinking about what I want to do to you. That’s never going to stop.” He dips his mouth to my collarbone and kisses it. He then slowly kisses his way up my neck to my mouth. “Cancel on the girls.”
Those four words and the pure filth he’s looking at me with send a whole lot of desire racing through me.
I put my hand to his chest, trying to slow all those thoughts of his down. “I can’t. We’re finalising the plans for Christmas day.” Harlow suggested we hold a Christmas Day barbecue lunch atthe clubhouse this year and we’ve been planning it for months. With Christmas only a week away, there’s no way I’ll cancel on the girls today.
Before I know what’s happening, he shifts us so I’m underneath him. He takes hold of one of my legs and brings it up to rest over his shoulder. He then glides his hand down my leg to my ass while stealing a kiss that leaves me breathless. When he’s done with my lips, he growls, “I want all your Saturday mornings from here on out.”
I stare up into his green eyes. “What’s going on, Griff?” Four years ago, after one of the most difficult years of our marriage, he told me he wanted all my Sunday mornings, and apart from the weekends he’s away with the club we’ve kept every Sunday morning just for each other. I’m not sure what’s running through his mind now for him to ask for all my Saturday mornings as well. But if I know my husband as well as I think I do, there’s absolutely something going on with him because it’s unlike him to ask for anything.
