Page 50 of Story Of My Heart

Taking my hand from my pocket, I hand her a small red box. She opens it to find a very large chocolate, with a seam running along the middle. Pressing against it with her thumb, the seam separates, revealing that the chocolate itself was hollow, and contains a large diamond ring. She squeals, sliding it along her finger with just as much pride as she did the candy. Pulling me to my feet, she throws her arms around me, embracing me in a tight hug, and over her shoulder I make eye contact with Fallon. My sister offers me a huge grin and a thumbs up, before shooing us both away with her hands. Taking the hint, I take Piper by the hand and lead her out of the lodge and back to the old cabin.

I had it made up just the way it was when we arrived those few weeks ago, figuring that if she said yes, Piper wouldn’t want to immediately U-turn and drive all the way back home. I had Fallon pick her out a nice pair of pajamas and a robe downtown, and laid them on the bed for her, alongside a bottle of Champagne in a bucket on the nightstand. The real stuff this time, not the off-brand swill that Fallon’s been using on the cruises.

“God, those pajamas look comfortable,” she sighs the second we traipse through the door. “Now that I’m thinking about it, I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a very long time. Or, a shower for that matter.”

Piper grimaces, sniffing at the ends of her hair. “This is embarrassing. And I don’t want to ruin the mood, but do you mind if I take a hot shower?”

“Only if you let me join you,” I shoot back, noting the blush on her cheeks as she smiles. “It’s the resort, you see. Trying to be more sustainable. Really getting into water conservation. It’s so hip now.”

She laughs, taking me by the hand and dragging me into the bathroom, planting a soft kiss on my lips before she turns the water on and measures the temperature with her hand. I can’t get my clothes off fast enough. I don’t know how Piper is calm enough right now to fold hers and set them neatly on the counter. She steps behind the shower door, sighing as the water hits her skin. I’m struck by a terribly romantic impulse as I join her, taking the bar of soap from its rest and lathering the suds in my hands. Starting with her shoulders, I begin to rub the bubbles into her skin, working my way down her arms and along her chest, taking great pains to massage the tension out of her back. She melts into my touch, backing into me and letting my hands trail lower, slipping experimentally between her thighs.

As if to answer my unspoken question, she widens her stance, giving me better access, allowing my fingers to slide along the crease of her thighs before coming up to her clit. She hums to herself as I make soft circles along the sensitive flesh, letting her head lean back against my chest as her lips part.

“I love you,” she whispers, and I press forward, dipping my fingers inside of her pussy and relishing the way she tilts her hips at the contact. I remember the last time we did this, and how selfishly I took her at the end. I don’t want to start things off on that foot again, instead choosing to take my time, letting my touches be gentle and soft. I don’t know how long we stay like that, my fingers slowly exploring her, but eventually her body tenses, a small gasp crossing her lips as she comes undone in my hand. I turn her to face me, angling her mouth up toward mine and kissing her with as much care as I can muster. Her own hand drifts between us, her fingertips grazing my erection as it bobs against my stomach.

I guide her backwards, out of the stream of water and back against the tile wall. All of the showers in the resort got converted to standing showers a few years back, with bench seats to be more accessible. I angle her leg upward, and she responds in kind, resting one of her feet on the seat and the other on the floor. She smiles at me as she takes me in her hand, urging me forward and slowly guiding me into her. It’s the gentlest we’ve ever done this, and the anticipation is exquisite. Somewhere between my agonizingly controlled strokes, I’m reminded of the time I walked in on her here, and how self-conscious she was around me then. It’s such a sharp contrast with how shameless she is now, stretching herself open for me and planting wet kisses along my chest, that it undoes me on the spot, spasming into her so suddenly and forcefully that my vision dims.

“Sorry,” I huff, catching my breath as the water runs in rivulets down my back and along the sides of my face. “I didn’t expect to come so soon.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles back, gingerly rotating her ankle as she lifts her leg down from the step. There’s still a small smear of soap suds along her temple, and I wipe at it with my thumb. “We have the rest of our lives to fool around.”

The thought makes me giddy, my heart swooping against my ribs. “You are so right. I guess this means we don’t have to spend a single minute apart now.”

“Now you’re getting carried away,” she laughs with a shake of her head, reaching forward to turn off the water. “Boundaries, Tate? Remember those?”

I open the door to grab a towel, wrapping it around her body as she lifts her arms for me. “Yeah. You’re right. I guess we have the rest of our lives to work on those, too.”

Looking up at me, she huddles against my chest, trying her best to look exasperated and failing, the joy in her eyes betraying her. “Oh, boy. And you’re gonna need every moment you can get, too.”

Flashes like this blaze through life—a flash where everything snaps into a crystal-clear focus, blazing with a hope so brilliant it scorches. It’s the kind of moment that dazzles, sharp and sweet, and oh-so achingly bright.

I have no plans on wasting a single one.

Epilogue

Piper

Five years later…

The morning sun spills gold across the meadow of our vast Sunset Lake property, casting long shadows from the oaks and turning the dew-draped grass into a sparkling sea. It’s almost unfairly picturesque, like a scene straight out of a painting, but I guess that’s just another day in our not-so-ordinary life. Better yet, it’s only a few miles from the resort.

Tate and I are ambling along the trail on our horses, his a sturdy bay named Chester and mine a graceful chestnut called June. We’re both relatively comfortable in the saddles now, a far cry from our first attempt at riding together, which had been nothing short of a comedic disaster.

“I still can’t believe you kept up with this after our initial... debacle,” I say, nudging June a little closer to Chester.

Tate chuckles, a deep sound that rumbles pleasantly in his chest. “Well, I had to prove I could do it, didn’t I? Couldn’t have my own daughter outclassing me before she turned five.”

Speaking of the little devil, a pint-sized blur on a Shetland pony named Sparkle bursts through a gap in the trees. Cordelia is all confidence and a wild mop of thick hair that matches her mother’s barely contained by her helmet. She pulls up beside us with the ease of a seasoned rider, her grin wide and mischievous.

“Daddy, you’re so slow. Do you need me to show you how to make Chester go faster?” she teases, her voice lilting with laughter.

“I think I’ve got it, but thanks, Delia,” Tate replies, his eyes twinkling with unshed pride.

“Are you sure? Because it looks like Chester is taking a nap while moving.” Her giggle is infectious, and even Chester seems to snort in agreement.

“Very funny, young lady. How about you show us some of your tricks then? I hear the junior equestrian competition is coming up. Are you ready?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

Cordelia nods enthusiastically, her ponytail bouncing. “Oh yes, Mommy! Watch this!” Without waiting for a response, she gently kicks Sparkle into a trot and heads towards a small log lying across the path—a makeshift jump we’ve all become familiar with.

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