Page 101 of Tripped By Love
Cassidy
IT’S YOUR LOVE
“And now that we’re together,
I’m stronger than ever, I’m happy and free.”
Performed by Tim McGraw with Faith Hill
Written by Stephony Smith
Marco had been overwhelmed withemotions while watching Jonas onstage, singing a song about heartbreaking pasts and the journey to redemption. I knew he could see himself as much as Jonas in the words. My entire body ached for him. For me. For the possibilities that the song promised.
I hated that Clayton’s words had put even the slightest doubt in Marco’s mind about our future. The one he’d casually tossed out about us getting married and him making Chevelle his own at the same time he was making me his. There was not one piece of me that held Marco’s past against him. I hated that he held it against himself. Was there a chance that a judge would hold it against him? Maybe. Was there a chance that Jonas’s past would throw some monkey wrench in it? I supposed there was, but there was no way I was giving any of them up without a fight. Without proving that we were meant to be a family.
That word caught in my throat.
My mind whirled full of hope for a future I could see clearly now. One where I was twirled down a sidewalk with someone who finished my sentences, and where Chevelle was tossed in the air by a man who loved him. Where I had time to create and the restaurant flourished. To a future where I let one man stand at my side and pick me up whenever I fell because I knew it would never make me less in his eyes.
When we got back to the house, it felt empty. There was no little voice claiming my attention, no tiny body to snuggle with, because Tristan’s friend, Stacy, who ran a charter school in town, had Chevelle and Hannah for us tonight. I missed my son fiercely, especially after having been away from him for the first time just weeks before, but I was also glad to have this night to wrap Marco in my arms, comfort us both, and kiss away his fears.
“Do you want to come in for a cupcake, Jonas? You’ve definitely earned it,” I said with a smile. He turned a deep shade of red, just like he had every time someone had complimented him on his song with Paisley.
He shook his head, eyes sliding to Marco’s and my hands twined together. “Nah. I’m going to call Maliyah and then hit the hay. I promised Brady I’d help them pack up all The Painted Daisies’ instruments first thing tomorrow.”
“Brady or Paisley?” Marco teased, and Jonas flushed again.
He pounded a fist into Marco’s shoulder and then headed toward the apartment above the garage while Marco followed me inside the house.
We’d barely made it inside before his strong arms had encompassed me, pulling me up tight against him. His lips brushed against mine as he spoke, the words vibrating off of them. “God, I missed you.”
Then, he was devouring me like we’d devoured each other in Texas. Hands and mouths nipping and gliding over each other. Clothes being shed as we wound our way down the hall to my room. When we landed on the bed, limbs tangled together, he paused, eyes glistening like black jade in the shadows of the room with only the moonlight filtering in through the drawn curtains.
“Angel…” His throat bobbed, emotion filling his voice. “I need to give you one last chance to walk away before I embed myself completely in your life. Jonas is a permanent part of my package now, and we’re men with pasts that aren’t easy. Clayton?”
“Is wrong. You’re one of the most honorable, decent, caring men I’ve ever met in my life.” I pushed my hands into the short strands on his head. “If we have to, we’ll bring your family, Garner and Trevor?hell, the whole damn town?in as character witnesses. You weren’t the one who attacked Petty Officer Warren. You aren’t violent, and neither is Jonas. Defending people you love isn’t a negative quality. I’d be privileged to have you both in Chevelle’s life, showing him how men can have strength and beauty and kindness.”
He rested his forehead against my chest, and I felt a tremble go through him as he fought his natural instinct to protect me—this time by walking away. His back was taut, arm muscles bulging as he poised to leave. Every line of him was cut and grooved, like gems carefully crafted to bring out the inner beauty of a stone.
“Make love to me, Marco,” I said, lifting his face so he was forced to meet my gaze. “Make love to me and show me exactly what you meant when you said you’d never let me go. Make me believe every word, and I promise, I’ll do the same. Keep you. Forever.”
He let out a low, guttural moan, half pleasure and half pain, before he captured my mouth with his. Searing into my soul the promises we were making to one another. Fingers trailing over hot skin, lips following the same path. My movements echoed his, every touch and caress returned with equal fervor. A battle to see who could show who how much they cared first. A battle to prove that this was the only place that we belonged. Together. Our remaining clothes disappeared as our bodies slid together, silk against silk. A twirl of limbs that needed to be joined.Two souls who only knew the true meaning of life and love when bound together as the moonlight surrounded them and the rest of the world disappeared.
???
Marco’s face was soft and relaxed in the early morning rays that shifted through the drapes. Not only did he seem at peace, but it was as if a burden had lifted from him. I didn’t know if it would come crashing back down when he woke, if there would be responsibilities and regrets drowning him, but I would be there every day to ease them away from him. To remind him that he deserved to be happy, too.
He hadn’t heard back about Petty Officer Warren yet. The inquiries seemed to go into a black void with nothing coming out of it. I’d encouraged him to look her up, and my heart clenched, hoping it hadn’t been a mistake. I hoped she wasn’t barely holding on to reality…or worse. I wasn’t sure what it would do to him if he found out she was still struggling.
I shifted slowly and softly, gently pulling away so as not to wake him. I’d promised Willow and Cliff new items for the fall menu, and with apple season almost upon us, I had a handful of new ideas I needed to try out. I was almost disappointed when Marco stayed asleep, because I couldn’t kiss him good morning before I left, but there was no way I was waking him—not when I knew he barely slept on most nights.
I showered, pulled on clothes that were so much more my norm than the lilac dress from the night before, and sent a text to Mom as I went, reminding her that Tristan was picking up Chevelle for me from Stacy’s. Then, I headed into town at a quick pace. My feet were clad in my orthopedic shoes, hardly making a sound. The birds were just starting to come awake, soft twitters echoing down the road. The chill in the air had me shivering because I’d left without a sweater or jacket. Summer was leaving us. Before we knew it, there’d be snow on the ground and kids sliding down the steep hill at the back of the Wilson-Jacobs grounds.
Main Street was quiet with very few lights and even fewer cars. Sweet Lips’s windows shone brightly because Helen and Belle were always there early, sifting sugar and flour into desserts the town adored. I stopped for a moment, taking in the entire street. Home. A place I adored. People who’d stood at my side, shielding me my entire life. I’d resented the protection for so long, while simultaneously loving them for it, that it had built a wall inside me. One I’d refused to let many people cross in case they saw the truth…that I felt weak…different…broken.
Today, I felt like the wall had disappeared. I felt at peace with acceptance settling over me. I had Marco to thank for that. I would always trip and fall, but hating it and begrudging the helping hands held out to me would only worm holes of discontent into my soul. Every time Marco had held out a hand, he’d backed it with words or actions that showed how damn strong he thought I was for getting back up. Strength came in many different forms. Mine was just wrapped inside a body that would always test my grit.
My smile was real and large as I unlocked the door of the café and was greeted with the sounds and smells of the kitchen abuzz with the morning prep. It twisted my heart a little to know that it wasn’t me there, getting ready for the day. But it also filled me with a relief I felt in my bones. I didn’t have to do it all on my own. I could take the pieces I loved most, keep those, and hand off the rest to people who could do it even better than me.
