Page 145 of We Redeemed the Rain

“Good.” Hovering my lips over her forehead, I said, “You need to get some rest.”

“I took a three hour nap today.”

“Still.”

“I wanted to play some more.” She lifted her head and looked up at me. Her face was mere inches from mine. The desire to move her into my lap and kiss her coursed through my veins. “You want to stay with me for a little bit?”

THIRTY-NINE

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“Let’s look at the stars. Where can we go for that?” Bea’s eyes danced with excitement.

“The pastures. We can lay in the truck bed. Big open sky there.”

“Oh! Yes, let’s do it.”

Ten minutes later, I parked the truck near pasture eight, spread some quilts in the truck bed, and settled my body right beside Bea’s. She laid, rapt with awe.

“Incredible.” Her breathless voice was wonder-filled.

“Beautiful, huh?”

“That’s not even the right word.”

The right word.

Her phrase dredged up old yearnings. There were no right words for Bea. Explaining her would be as difficult as trying to understand quantum physics. But the hunt for thatright wordwas a task I had found intoxicating.

I’d written pages and pages to Strings.

And pagesaboutStrings.

It was a task never finished. I’d never fully encapsulate her. Especially now that I knew her face, her smile, her laugh, her tears. Nowthat I’d held her, hugged her, and leaned forward to kiss her. I’d felt her breath on my neck and touched her soft skin.

What words could I write now?

For the first time in ages, I itched for a pen and paper.

She looked at the stars, but I looked at her. The gentle wash of moonlight over her skin, the glow on her hair, the inner sparkle in her eyes. With a will of its own, my hand reached out and brushed the back of hers.

Her fingers immediately responded, granting me access. I slipped my hand around to her palm. Her exhale was heady and long as our fingers slowly entwined. All of the unhindered joy Bea possessed pumped through her hand into mine. Relief unfurled in my chest so strong, so rapidly that tears pricked my eyes.

This woman was undoing everything I knew about myself.

Three weeks ago, I couldn’t find a reason to smile. Now I couldn’t stop. Before she came, how long had it been since I laughed? Touched someone? Conversed over a meal? Acknowledged my feelings? Teared up? Gotten a hug?

She was a tonic to my heart. An antidote to my debilitating loneliness.

I lifted our hands to my mouth, gently brushing my lips against the back of her hand. She turned her face up, watching me do it. She remained silent, but the gentle rise and fall of her chest changed tempo. Her skin on my lips caused desire to course through my veins. She was soft, perfect—even the back of her hand.

For a long time, we laid, silently watching the stars.

We made some small talk about constellations, but the conversation petered out after we both admitted to knowing zilch about them. My focus was tethered to her alone, anyway. Nothing in the galaxy could recapture my attention. Everything—the night’s song, the visible bits of our Milky Way, the warm breeze—was a backdrop to Bea, whose smile stole the show.

Maybe the truck bed wasn’t my brightest idea. Because the only thing I wanted to do was roll over her and kiss until the stars melted away. I wanted to touch and be touched. The thought was terrifying.Desiring those things brought up so many conflicting feelings within me. But I still couldn’t think of anything else.

I warred my thoughts. They were a furious clash of memories, passion, awe, and confusion.

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