“You make me believe in true love—the unconditional kind. You make me believe in God again. You make me want to be better. You make me want to move forward.
“Lila Fields, I promise to give you me so we can be us. I promise to never shut you out or run away. I promise to cover the scars I left on you every single day until you can’t see them anymore. Most of all, I promise to be there forever if you’ll let me.”
He pauses, tears streaming down both our cheeks. This is better than any fairytale I watched as a little girl because it’s my fairytale.
“Will you marry me, baby?” His voice shakes.
I cover my mouth as I nod my head saying “yes” over and over again. He slips a ring on my finger with ease just before I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my lips to his repeatedly until I can’t feel them anymore. It’s only then that I look over my shoulder at the ring that sparkles in the faint light.
“I designed it myself,” he says, taking his turn to kiss me. “It’s an antique diamond from Europe with a slight yellow hue. I had the jeweler etch the shoulders of the band with flowers and taper it in. It’s unique just like you.”
“It’s beautiful, but you could have wrapped a string of grass around my finger, and I would have said yes.”
“I’ll remember that on our anniversary,” he teases. There’s a pause and he’s staring at me like he can’t believe this is happening either. “I had “love is enough” etched inside the band. I think I told you once that it wasn’t, but it’s the reason I came back. It’s what I want you to remember when we’re apart or when we fight. Love is enough to hold us together through everything if it’s strong enough.”
“It’s also enough to forgive and forget,” I add.
“That too.”
I look up at the stars then back to Blake. “Do you know something else I’ve never done out here?”
“What?” he asks, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“Made love under the stars.”
He slides one strap from my shoulder, pressing his lips to it. “I’m going to be your first,” he whispers against my ear.
“You’re going to be my only,” I answer back as he lays me down on the blanket.
I want to get married out here.
I want to make babies out here.
I want to do everything with this man right here.
He keeps his promise of four—slow and sweet—making love under the shining stars. And, when I look up, I realize we just made love under a full moon.
I smile as he holds me tightly against his chest. I found my full moon.
“BABE, CAN YOU GET me some more milk?”
I roll out of bed, my eyes barely open as I walk down the stairs. Saturday is my day to sleep in, but it rarely works out that way.
Blake gets up when she starts to cry. His big feet creak along the steps. He inevitably drops something on the floor while trying to make a bottle. Then, the stairs creak again. He fumbles with her diaper while she shows off her little lungs.
Then comes the part I like—where he hums the “ABC’s” and “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.” I could listen to him forever. He’s the best daddy. I have one lucky little girl. She’s quiet for maybe fifteen minutes then she screams again.
“Coming!” I yell back, feeling the cold hardwoods against my feet. The house is still dark, the sky purple with a hint of orange in the horizon.
It’s only been three months, but I can make a bottle like it’s no one’s business. I trudge up to her room, handing it to him quickly before she sees me; it’s all over then.
He whispers, “Thank you.”
I crawl back into my comfortable bed.
Just as I start to drift off, the bed dips and his strong arm wraps around my waist pulling me close to his bare chest. I pretend to sleep because I want to. I’d do just about anything for six hours of straight sleep.
“You awake?” he says quietly. I think he can tell I’m not by the way I breathe.
“You know I am.”
His hand snakes its way under my sleep shirt, the backs of his fingers brushing against my stomach while his lips whisper against the back of my neck. “Lay on your stomach, baby.”
I do as he asks, smiling while I think about last Saturday. It went a lot like this and then she woke before I was able to find out how it was all going to end.
My shirt goes all the way up as he straddles my hips.
His fingers run along my spine to my shoulders then down my sides. He does it over and over, and eventually he presses for more, skimming his fingers along the sides of my breasts. He’s an expert—he knows just how to get me.
His body covers mines, lips blazing a hot trail from one side to the other. “Did I tell you you’re beautiful yet this morning?”
“Not yet,” I moan.
“Did I tell you I love you?”
“No.”
“Did I tell you I’d be yours forever?”
I shake my head against the pillow, unable to speak.
“I love you forever, beautiful.”
His marriage vows—he honors them every single day.
His lips trail down my back.
I remember the crisp fall day three months after he proposed—when I first saw him standing in his suit coat by the creek.
His thumbs slip inside the edge of my panties, pulling them down carefully as he kisses the backs of my thighs.
I remember all the promises he made. The promises I made him.
By the time he reaches my feet, all I remember is the way he kissed me in front of our close friends and family. It was a small wedding, but perfect for us.
He kisses his way back up, subtly slipping his fingers between my legs as he does. He knows exactly what to do, not that he has to try too hard.
“I’ll never tire of this body. You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he says, his lips brushing against my ear. Then, in one quick motion he’s inside me. He holds there until I adjust to him.
He pulls out then fills me again.
“Blake,” I moan. “Don’t stop.”
This is the part we didn’t get to before Belle woke up last weekend. It’s been a few stolen showers here and there, but foreplay has all but become extinct.
“On your knees,” he instructs, tugging my hair back. The mix of sensations is all I need before the first orgasm ricochets through my body. He grunts as I pulse around him, but he’s not done yet … not even close.
There’s no time to come off the high. His thumb moves over the bumps on my spine until there are no more. “Turn around, baby.”
I do, laid out naked in front of him, drenched in sex. Desire is wanting a man after only three hours of sleep. I give up sleep for sex … just for him.
He crawls up my body, lapping his tongue around my nipples then up the line of my throat. “How do you want me?”
“I just want you,” I answer back with no hesitation. Our relationship is give and take, but mostly, I take what he’ll give me.
Without another word, he sinks back into me, burying his head in the crook of my neck. “I love you,” he whispers.
“I love you, too,” I answer back, struggling to catch my breath.
His pace picks up then slows.
My heart beats rapidly.
He pulls all the way out then thrusts in.
My body is wound. So much tension I can barely stand it, yet it’s the moment I love the most. I want to hold on to it, but he knows how to break the euphoric spell.
Two more thrusts, and I’m done. I’m his.
He groans, biting into my collarbone to mask his screams.
“I’ll never tire of you,” he mumbles, barely able to breathe. His chin rests on my chest, his eyes staring into mine. The sun comes up, shining through our thin white curtains giving me a glimpse of everything I love about this man—his deep blue eyes, sandy blonde hair and that dimple … I freaking love that dimple.