Page 118 of The Courting of Bristol Keats
“Master schemer,” he repeated. “Is that another one of those titles you’ve given me?”
“Yes, and quite fitting, I think. But I’ll admit, sometimes I’m amused by your devious ways.”
He grunted. “Last night your chamber walls were shaking with your amusement.”
“Braggart.”
His jaw tightened and his demeanor changed from shameless lust to something else, and he stared at her oddly. “Do you only love my devious ways? What about me, Bristol? Do you love me?”
She blinked, taken by surprise. He wasn’t teasing or playing a game anymore. His voice was tender.Do you love me?It was the last thing she’d expected to tumble past his lips. Love? His eyes shone, bright as the sky above him, waiting for her reply like she held the key to his next breath.
The answer pulsed inside her.
Tyghan had settled deep into her marrow, and she couldn’t picture her life without him. He made her laugh, and—
“It’s taking you an awfully long time to answer. Should I be worried?”
He truly sounded concerned, and she smiled. “Yes, Tyghan. I love you. Not just the devious you, but all of you.”
He beamed like a happy schoolboy, like it was the first time he had ever heard the words. Like he could breathe again. But then he just stood there smiling at her.
“And?” she prompted. “Do you have something you want to say to me in return?”
His brows pulled together, perplexed. “Like what?”
“You arrogant bastard,” she said, trying to hide her smile. She threw her shirt at him and ran. He chased on her heels, but she wasn’t going to make it easy for him.
He caught her arm, and she felt herself spinning, both of them tumbling, but he turned to take the brunt of the fall. She landed on his chest, but then he rolled until he straddled her, bracing an arm on either side of her shoulders.
His expression turned solemn, his laughter and play set aside. His knuckle grazed her jaw like her skin was a delicate flower petal. “Yes, I do have something I want to tell you. I love you, Bristol Keats. I love you more than anything I’ve ever loved in my life.” His lips met hers, and he whispered against them. “I loved you since that first day we met—”
She couldn’t restrain a laugh, and he pulled back. “What?”
“You did not!” she said, still giggling. “You wanted to throttle me.”
He cocked his head to the side. “All right, maybe it was a week later,” he conceded, “but it’s true. I loved you early on, before I could even admit it to myself. I was lost to you after that first night we danced. And it wasn’t just lust.” He traced a finger down her chest until he reached her bra and then slipped his hand beneath the silky fabric, caressing her breast. “But I’ll admit to plenty of that, too.” She shuddered and felt his growing desire pressing against her.
His hand moved from her breast to her chin, cupping her face, and he leaned down, kissing her cheekbone, her temple, her brow, and then he pulled back to look into her eyes again. “You frightened me, but I still craved every part of you—your voice, your touch, even your silences. You weren’t afraid of them. You weren’t afraid of me. I loved the way you shared your life. You’ve made me care about laundromats, the seashore, coffee houses, and maybe even that nasty thing you call pizza.”
“Whoa,” she said. “You love me that much?”
He smiled. “You made me want to share my life, too. Something I couldn’t do before.” His black hair tumbled over his brow, and his blue irises were a world of sky swallowing her whole. “I want to share my life with you, Bri. All of it.”
She didn’t have to parse out exactly what that meant, because they were kissing again, touching, needing, peeling clothes away, the meadow a soft bed beneath them, the sky a blanket above.I want to share my life with you, Bri. All of it.
She wanted that too. And the thought didn’t even make her afraid.
He looked into her eyes again, like nothing else in the world mattered but them, and she wondered how she reached this place, the miracle of it. Thenakednessof it.
Not just the nakedness of skin touching skin, but a deeper kind. A place of vulnerability and trust. Layers peeled away.Love.God, she loved him, and she wondered why it took her so long to say it, so long to move past the fear. They both helped each other reach this place.
He smiled, studying her. “What are you thinking about?”
“The miracle of nakedness.”
He didn’t scoff. He knew what she meant, and his mouth met hers again, as tender and soft as a cloud.
CHAPTER 80
