23
All I wanted wasa weekend with our friends and family on an island where Tyler and I could tie the knot in peaceful bliss. I pictured walks on the beach, romantic dinners, couples’ massages. Instead, I’d found myself staggering up a beach alone, the rapidly fading sun at my back as I called after a bird as if he knew his own name.
It was dark for a while, but when light cut through the blackness, I nearly sobbed in relief. Tyler was there.
But now that we’re back in our villa safe and sound, something’s still wrong.
“Stop it,” I say again, pushing away his hands.
Since the second he found me, he hasn’t strayed an inch. It’s as if he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he stops watching me, stops touching me.
“This? What you’re doing right now? I don’t want it,” I tell him.
His hands fall to his sides. His clothes are damp from the ocean and from the shower. They cling to every inch of his hard body, the normally proud shoulders slumped. Even in defeat, the man I love is strong and stoic. Tyler’s throat bobs, and the emotions fighting behind his eyes make me go on.
“I don’t want your guilt,” I murmur.
My ankle throbs, but I ignore it as I reach for the buttons on his shirt, unfastening the first. My fingers slip a little, and it takes a second before the fastening gives and I move on. The next button is easier. The third is the same.
“I want your love.”
His eyes soften, and the breath that escapes his tense chest wavers at the edges.
When I’m finished unfastening all of them, I spread the shirt wide, pressing a hand against his chest, dark with swirls of ink. My palm lies over his heart as if that’s where it’s meant to be.
“It’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.”
Tyler’s throat works, his eyes shining with emotion. He covers my hand with his. “I will be here for you. I’ll swear it tomorrow, but I want to swear it tonight.”
His words, the low voice, make me tremble. But not with weakness. With conviction.
“I don’t need you to be here for me,” I murmur. “I need you to be here for us. I love watching you create music, and teach, and find your way in the world. But I love you most when you’re here with me.”
Tyler’s thumb strokes the back of my hand. “I want to give you and our children the things you deserve because it’s easy to lose everything in a heartbeat.”
My gaze drops to his chest. “We haven’t yet. And if we do, we’ll figure it out.”
I lace my fingers through his scarred hand. “We always do. Growing up, I dreamed of being on stage. But mostly, I dreamed of finding somewhere I belonged. I dreamed of you. You’re my home.”
Water runs down his nose and jaw as my hands skim up to cup his face.
He’s had to be hard, the man I love. Even as a boy, he had to do things to take care of the few people who broke through his walls.
No more.
We undress him together. The tension that’s always between us is beneath the surface, but for once it’s content to simmer there.
When we’re both warm, he turns off the water and we towel off. He carries me out into the bedroom but doesn’t pause there.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“You wanted to see the stars.”
He kicks open the patio door and crosses the stone before setting me on the double-wide chaise lounger and returning to the bedroom to grab a light blanket. Tyler slides in next to me, not hesitating before pulling my body against his.
My forehead rests in the hollow of his chest, and I breathe him in.
“The first time I slept next to you,” he murmurs against my hair, his touch stroking down my back, “it felt so fucking right. Nothing in my life ever felt as good as holding you in my arms.”