Page 49 of For the Rest of Forever

“Ah, I... I love this song,” he said quietly.

Greg smiled again as though he’d known just that and reached out with one hand. “Allen Westin, my love, may I have this dance?”

There were tears in his eyes already, but Allen nodded and took his husband’s hand. Greg helped him stand and then led him over to the other side of the firepit. And when Greg turned to face him and their eyes met, a wave hit him. It was one he’d felt so many times before—one of love and trust and belonging—and yet this time, for whatever reason, it hit harder. Maybe it was the atmosphere—the quiet, romantic night with stars twinkling overhead and the soft breeze bringing cool air off the water. Or maybe it was the music. Or maybe it was just Greg—Greg and his love and everything it meant. It filled him, surrounded him, made him feel whole andwanted. And that was huge, especially now. Especially today.

Greg’s arms wrapped gently around his waist and pulled him closer, and that feeling—that feeling of being whole and wanted and loved—suddenly seemedmore, deeper, amplified. Allen closed his eyes, slid his hands up around to the back of Greg’s neck, and lowered his head to rest on Greg’s shoulder. And as the lyrics continued with their soft piano accompaniment, Greg began to sway them to the music, humming along quietly and occasionally pressing kisses to Allen’s temple.

The song was too short, the final notes fading into silence after only a few minutes, but Greg kept them swaying softly, and he started humming some other tune, an older melody that Allen also didn’t recognize right away. But that didn’t matter. What really mattered was how comfortable it felt being in his husband’s arms, knowing without a doubt—without his brain even trying to convince him otherwise—that he was loved.

Nothing meant more in that moment.

Greg’s swaying finally slowed and stopped, and Greg straightened up just enough and brought one hand around to cup Allen’s cheek and tilt his chin back. Allen did as he had earlier, leaning slightly into Greg’s touch, and this time, when Greg said his whispered “I love you, darling,” Allen saw a glint of tears in the corners of Greg’s eyes.

They came together in another soft kiss, and he felt Greg smile into him. When he pulled back, he looked up at his husband and lifted his eyebrows. Greg was still smiling but was also shaking his head almost imperceptibly as his eyes seemed to study Allen’s expression.

“What?” Allen asked quietly.

He swore he saw Greg’s cheeks flush, even in the dim firelight, and Greg ducked his head for a second before looking back up and letting his hand slip down to Allen’s upper arm.

“You. You’re just... so beautiful,” Greg said. “And I think maybe I don’t tell you that enough.”

A warm shiver coursed through Allen then, and he blinked and then closed his eyes briefly as the tears he’d been holding back finally escaped.

“Ah, my love. My sweet, beautiful husband.” Greg’s lips brushed against one cheek and then the other, kissing away his tears, and then Greg pulled Allen up against him and wrapped him up in another wonderful, warm embrace.

God, it felt good. He felt so good. So much better. At least in this moment. It was a moment he wished could last forever, for always, because here in this moment, he felt safe from everything that he’d been battling with for the last few weeks. There was no doubt and no uncertainty, and the voice in his head—his voice—telling him that he wasn’t worthy of any love, of his husband’s love, faded until it was nearly inaudible. Just whispers somewhere far off in the background.

He breathed in Greg’s scent as he rested his head in the crook of Greg’s neck, and the strong hands holding him began gentle strokes up and down his back again. And there was more of everything: more love, more comfort, more of that feeling of safety. He sighed deeply and then straightened up as Greg’s hands shifted down to his lower back and then to his hips.

Tilting his head back slightly, Allen met his husband’s gaze, now filled with something else too, and that heat he’d felt earlier flared back to life when Greg’s eyes seemed to darken. Greg bent down, and Allen stretched up, and their lips met again, their mouths moving in tandem and their tongues dancing. Greg broke away first to trail an indistinct path of slow, open-mouthed kisses downward to Allen’s jaw and then to that sensitive spot where his neck met his collarbone. A quiet moan rumbled throughAllen’s chest as Greg continued, his kisses sending more heat straight to Allen’s groin.

“Mmm, darling, let me... put out the fire... and then...” Greg spoke softly between kisses, but then he seemed to get distracted as Allen moaned again and slid one hand down to Greg’s chest, palm open and splayed.

“And then?”

“Mmm. And then...” Greg straightened and reached up to cover Allen’s hand with his own. Then he lowered his mouth to place the gentlest of kisses on Allen’s forehead. “Let me take care of you.”

The familiar words—words Greg had been telling him for over thirty years now—rippled through him, and he closed his eyes again, nodded, and pressed his hand into his husband’s chest. He could almost feel Greg’s heart beating fast, just like his own, and, one more time, he leaned up against Greg and let his husband’s solidness support him.

Something felt different this time, despite the familiarity of it all. And as he watched Greg move away a moment later to put out the fire, Allen tried to figure out what that was. But his mind wasn’t quite in step and his body was too distracted, and he just felt so overwhelmingly comfortable in the moment—in the knowledge that Greg loved him fully, completely, unconditionally. So he gave up trying to find an answer.

When they stepped back inside the cabin a few minutes later, Greg led Allen straight into the bedroom. He then kissed Allen’s cheek and excused himself for a moment to turn off all the lights and make sure everything was put away so they wouldn’t have to be bothered afterward.

Allen moved to the bed but didn’t sit. Instead, he stared across the dimly lit bedroom and out the large window on the opposite side. The view was similar to what they’d had out by thefirepit—darkness over the water with the lights from the small town on Lopez Island just barely visible. The lights flickered slightly as he studied them, and Allen found the view almost mesmerizing. He hadn’t even realized Greg had returned until two arms slipped around his waist and a warm body pressed up against his back.

“Mmm, ready for bed, darling?” Greg asked, his voice both rough and soft at the same time and his lips now grazing Allen’s neck.

Desire sparked in Allen’s chest, and he felt it as a brightening of everything around him, a need—urgent and yet languid. All these contradictory things that somehow still made perfect sense to him. He closed his eyes as one of Greg’s hands teased under his T-shirt and ran along his stomach and then upward, just a little, just a hint.

“God,” he breathed, and he leaned back into Greg, his heart stuttering in his chest. This was what it felt like to be loved. He knew this. He’d known this for so long.

“You feel so good. I love touching you,” Greg murmured, his breath still hot against Allen’s neck and his hand now running in long, slow strokes back and forth just above the waistband of Allen’s jeans. “May I... keep going?” Greg’s hand moved upward again, and Allen moaned with want and need and something else as the slow move sent waves of pleasure rippling through him.

“Yes. Please.”

“Good. Just tell me what you want tonight, darling.”

The words sent another familiar flutter through his chest, and Allen felt his body shudder with need. He breathed deeply again as Greg continued a gentle exploration with his hands and lips, maybe waiting for Allen to reply, or maybe just moving forward with what he already knew Allen would love.

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