“You’re up for it. So am I,” I coo, slinging my leg over his wide hips. I take over holding, and have to lean to one side to position him where I think he’s supposed to be. From this angle, actually seeing it, the size looks harrowing. “Tell me if I’m doing it wrong,” I say, meeting his eyes.
He shakes his head. “You can’t do this wrong. If it’s in you, it will always be right. Always.”
I sit down, and to the side and suck in a sharp breath when his head opens me wide. “Right. That’s right. That’s right,” he hisses. “Nothing has ever been more right. Keep going,” he urges.
He closes his eyes and wets his bottom lip. His chest and stomach are rippled to perfection and it seems every muscle in his body is textbook perfect. Looking at him, piece by piece, underneath me, gives me a power I didn’t know I had. He’s mine.
I sit down further, and feel a throbbing jerk deep inside me. I lean over and put my hands on his sculpted midsection and ride him up and down. This feels like a different pleasure, another angle that rubs me just the right way, and I can’t escape the moans of pleasure I know are coming. My clit slides against him, and his huge girth brushes me.
When I meet his gaze, he gives me a lopsided grin. “Every day, yeah?”
“Oh, fuck yes, every day,” I cry out.
“Say fuck again,” he says, narrowing his candlelit eyes.
Riding him, I crawl forward until my lips are balancing just above his. “Fuckme,” I tease, mouth barely brushing his. “I never was good at being your girlfriend,” I breathe, grinding on him in a slow tempo.
He catches my bottom lip between his teeth and pulls. “Because you were always meant to be mywife.”
He said the word. I kiss him hard, and his hands slide from the sides of my face down my body to land on my hips. He guides me to our orgasms, the waves tearing through us at the same exact time.
I lay on top of his chest, listening to his heartbeat for what feels like forever. Though I know it can’t possibly be that long because forever is what you ask for, and right now is all you’re promised.
For us, our love was destined, a mark in time that came hurtling toward us without our consent. Found and lost. Love and loss. Promises and lies. Floating and falling. Forever and never.
Defined simply: happily ever after.
Epilogue
Caroline
Three years later
I found him there. In between who I was and who I wanted to be. In the place I’ve always been, the same small town I grew up in, surrounded by the people who love and loathe me in equal measure. And he stayed. And he loves me more than I knew a human could love another human. I love him more than that. The relationship is existential—existing in its very own realm of love.
The airport is my second love, still. The accident served as only a roadblock to finding my happiness in all ways instead of in merely one. Still to this day, I consider the healing process my rebirth, the thing that shaped me into a person willing to accept faults, wary, but strong. From the ashes rose a woman desperately wild, capable of loving, and forgiveness, seeking adventure, with the ability to take mistakes and learn from them instead of letting them crush me.
“You better get that ass in here and help me get these dishes out on the lawn, Caroline May Holiday Bae,” Shirley hollers from across my kitchen at the Inn. I’m washing dishes at the sink, my mind a million miles away as I study Tahoe and his friends chatting in a circle.
I pop my ass out so she can swat it on the way by. “Do not call me that. Bae is the Danish word for poop. How many times do we have to go over this?”
She shrugs. “The Kardashians say it, so it’s usable. Turn on a television every once in a while!”
I wipe my hands on a dishtowel, and refuse to reply to my friend. Caleb and Shirley have been going steady for about a yearand I can’t say I’m surprised. She seems happy, and Caleb seems less…bitter. Grabbing a tray, I follow her out. It’s my parent’s wedding anniversary and we’re hosting a big party. It reminds me of my wedding and I’m feeling nostalgic.
My mama comes up beside me as I’m heading toward a tent, her white apron a gleaming white. “What can I help with?”
“Nothing. This is your day. Take off the apron. We don’t need your help today,” I say, swatting her away from trying to remove the tray from my hands. “Seriously. Go have one of those cranberry juice drinks. Tahoe was up late working on the recipe. They taste like candy. Go. Shoo,” I say.
“I love you, baby,” Mama drawls, giving me that sweet smile. “I’m so proud of you.” I grin in response. I did have to quit waitressing to help at the Inn, but I don’t think anyone was more pleased with that decision than my parents. I think they viewed it as me finally growing up and taking a life of my choosing. The airport is still my haunt and that’s my first and favorite job, but with the few employees I have, it’s not so much work that I feel overwhelmed. Six days a week I’m busy, but Sunday? Sundays are for my two favorite S words. Snuggling and sex. Not necessarily in that order. Tahoe has had to go on a few missions here and there, but for the most part the terrorists are controlled. Or so the government has made it seem. They’re still opening bases all over the U.S. Every once in a while, I say a little prayer and thank him for sending Tyler Holiday to this small town. And that he loves it as much as I do.
When desires and dreams collide, magical things happen. My current location as proof.
I’m sliding the tray of side salads onto the table when I feel him behind me.
“Mrs. Holiday, are you almost finished in the kitchen?”
I lean back, and he catches me against his chest, his big arms cradling my body. Sighing, I say, “There’s a joke in there somewhere, but I’m going to let it go because you’re hugging me.”
