Magnolia Road

by J. Lynn Bailey

  “Hey, matron of honor.” I kiss Alex on the cheek. “I hope my girls are ready to be flower girls.” I look at them both.

  “I wove you, Auntie,” Emily says and kisses me on my nose.

  My heart explodes.

  “Come on, girls. Let’s let Auntie and Uncle Ethan get back to their guests.” Alex takes the girls but not before leaning in and telling me how much she loves me and how happy she is for us.

  Ryan and Merit show up with Hope, and again, I have to hold her because kids. It makes me wonder if Ethan wants kids. Not a question we covered before we got engaged. I guess, if he doesn’t, I’ll have to bend. Because I can’t not have Ethan in my life. But, knowing him, he’ll want kids just because I do. I think he’d be an amazing father.

  Brand, Eli and Merit’s father, and Meredith, Alex’s mother, come in next.

  Meredith grabs me by my shoulders and pulls me in. “You know I’ll always have two daughters—one biological and another by the gift of friendship.”

  I rub her back. “Always.”

  Brand reaches in for a hug. “I thought this old boy would die in his work truck on a hunt rather than settle down with a beautiful woman. I’m real happy he chose the latter.”

  “Me, too, Brand.”

  And the guests keep pouring in. Apparently, you can’t have a party in Granite Harbor without the village and its people. Because it takes a village to raise children. Just like we’re doing with Hope, Emily, and Noah.

  Pharmacist Rick shows up with a plant. Why a plant? I’m not sure, but I take it with a smile.

  Tom Sullivan and Mayor Thissel show up, too.

  Before I know it, Ethan and I turn and stare at the room full of people who are all here for us.

  “We can live in Los Angeles, if you’d like?” He looks back at me and grins.

  “Not a chance, babe. Not a chance. We’re staying here. Granite Harbor will always be home.”

  I put my arms around his middle as his arm goes around my shoulders.

  He kisses my forehead. “Okay, let’s mingle.”

  After the gathering, Ethan and I bundle up in our coats for the short walk back to Magnolia Road. It’s cold. Maine cold is a whole lot different than California cold—well, at least Los Angeles cold. A cold day in Los Angeles is a seventy-degree day. Maine cold should come with some sort of warning label.

  I still walk with a bit of a limp. The doctors say that will go away with time. I’m half a second slower these days.

  My hand tightens around Ethan’s. As he serves as the robust protection from the elements, I curve under his shoulder as we walk.

  “I didn’t know you were missing in my life until you weren’t there, Bryce. I didn’t know I needed you until I couldn’t reach for you,” Ethan says.

  We reach the porch of Magnolia Road.

  Ethan goes in first, gently leading me inside.

  Oh my goodness.

  Candles are lit everywhere.

  My first thought: Is the power out?

  My second thought: No, this is all for us.

  I look up at Ethan, whose eyes are on me. He doesn’t say a word. He just removes my coat and drops it on the sofa. He removes his own coat and drops it on the couch on top of mine.

  Ethan places his hands on the sides of my jawline but doesn’t kiss me. He just stares.

  “What?” I whisper, impatiently waiting for his mouth.

  “I want to spend the next sixty years making up for the yesterdays I missed with you.” He runs his fingertip down my neck and across my chest, lingering in the space near my breast, against my top.

  On my tiptoes, I reach up and kiss his jawline, one of the most distinctive characteristics about Ethan Casey that makes my heart beat quicker than I’d like. I feel his chest against mine, and I sigh.

  “Make love to me tonight?” I say as I kiss him again, this time on his neck.

  “Not yet.” A devious smile spreads across his mouth.

  He takes my hand and leads me through the living room, the kitchen, and into the bathroom. A bath is drawn, candles lit. Rose petals laid.

  I look back at Ethan and drop my head to the side. “I hope this bath is for two.”

  Ethan lifts his arms, tugs at the bottom of his shirt, and slides it over his head.

  His beautifully broken body. The scars you can’t see, the ones that lie on the inside, stroking his body with madness.

  His beautifully broken body. The damage that doesn’t sleep.

  His beautifully broken body that somehow found its way through the darkness and to the light to be saved.

  I run my hand over the ripples on his stomach as I feel his quick breaths in my ear. My heart pounding in my chest, I try to slow my heart with my thoughts.

  Slow down, Bryce.

  You have this man for the rest of your life.

  Taking the top button of his jeans, I release it and slowly ease down his zipper. I hear his groan in my ear.

  My groan. The one that I get to hear every time I do something that he can’t control.

  Sliding his jeans down, I make sure to get them to his ankles.

  I take his boxers and do the same, allowing him to spring to life.

  “Step out,” I tell him as I pull his jeans and boxers out from under him.

  He does so with a smile, and I come back up to meet his mouth, but he denies me.

  “Not yet,” he says.

  I feel the walls between my legs weaken, drawing out the wetness.

  Carefully, he lifts my top but not before taking his hand and sliding it around the inside of the waist of my pants. With my top off, my black lace bra is exposed.

  He slides his hands down my shoulders and reaches the button of my jeans, pops it with one hand, and slides just my jeans to the bathroom floor.

  Ethan stands back and admires my body, but he doesn’t touch me, and I see that it almost kills him.

  “Touch me, Ethan.”

  He whispers under his breath, “Not yet.” He takes a step closer, and I feel him against my stomach. “But you know what I want to do to you at this very moment?” he breathes in my ear.

  “What?” I turn into him, allowing my breasts to rest on his chest.

  “Slide your panties to the side and see how wet you are.”

  I stifle a breath. “What’s stopping you?”

  “Time.” He takes his fingers and slides my panties down.

  He stands back and marvels at my body again. The body I grumble at. Pick apart in the mirror and in my head.

  Ethan stands, so our bodies are touching. The ache between my legs begins. An ache that only Ethan can take care of.

  He steps in the warm drawn water and sits down. “Between my legs,” he commands.

  I step in, ease into the bath between his legs, and lean back against his chest.

  Ethan’s hand slides down my hip and across my stomach, and right before reaching my breasts, which I’m praying he’ll do, he stops short.

  “You’re a tease, Mr. Casey. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  He laughs a low, throaty laugh. “Among other things.”

  And it dawns on me that I don’t know how many people he’s slept with. Who he lost his virginity to. Who his first kiss was. But what I know about him is so much deeper.

  “Tell me something good, Bryce.” He pulls his knees up, and I rest my arms around them.

  This, I think to myself, is intimacy.

  “Good. Well, there’s this beautiful man who just asked me to marry him. And you know what?”

  “What?” I can hear his smile through his word.

  “I said yes. I said yes for a million reasons. But two that stand out.”

  “Yeah? What are those?”

  He draws his fingertips up and down my arms, slowing my heart.

  “His heart, for one. He’s got this damn heart that tends to draw people near him even if he doesn’t see it, and it’s the fact that he doesn’t see it. And, two, he’s the handsomest man I’ve ever met—th
at, too, he doesn’t know. And that makes him all the more beautiful.”

  Ethan laughs again, still running his fingers up and down my arm. He’s quiet though. The warm water feels good against my body.

  “There was time overseas that I didn’t know if we were going to make it home.” His words barely linger in the warm steam that surrounds us. He’s quiet for a moment. “I’m so glad I did. I don’t know how I got so lucky with you, with life, Bryce, but instead of asking why anymore, I’m going to accept what’s in front of me.”

  I run my fingers along his thighs and feel him harden beneath me.

  “It’s time to go to bed, Ethan,” I say.

  Thirty-Five

  Ethan

  She stands so gracefully from the bathwater, and I follow her lead, grabbing a towel for her first and then a towel for me.

  Barely dry, she takes my hand and leads me into her bedroom, where I lit one candle and put it on the dresser. The curtains are already pulled closed because there’s no way in hell I’ll risk that shit again—some sick fuck looking through her window.

  Bryce turns back to me and kisses my chest, sending chills up and down my spine as I watch her. I take her chin and tip it back. I put my mouth on hers, trying not to act too hungry for her kiss. But I am. Our kiss deepens as our worlds, although different, blend together once again. Creating a world of our own that consists of love and making love and trust.

  She pulls back to breathe, and I allow it but take her hips into my hands, knowing the inevitable, the outcome. That I’ll get to be inside her again. I’ll get to watch her come unraveled at my touch.

  Gently, I turn and lift her onto the bed, watching her body relax into the mattress.

  I see her before me. Her dark red hair splayed against the neatly made bed.

  She reaches up and cups her own breasts in her hands, and her legs fall open.

  Fuck. But I don’t say this out loud. I don’t want her to think I’m all hard up because of her naked body. I take in her milky-white skin and the tiny patch of hair that sits between her legs. Her long, beautiful legs that are open just for me.

  “We’re not lucky. This is life giving us a second chance to get it right.”

  I climb on top of the mattress and sit between her legs, my legs folded underneath me.

  I run my hands over her hips and her breasts, pinching her nipples, so she calls out just a little.

  My hands slide down from her breasts to her hips, reaching her soft patch of hair.

  “I will try to be gentle, Bryce.”

  “Don’t.” Her words are terse. “I don’t need gentle right now, Ethan. Gentle can come later.”

  Oh, fuck.

  Using my finger, I pull back her layer of protection to expose her beautiful pink folds.

  “Oh, God,” she whispers as her back arches against the mattress.

  “You’re really wet, Bryce.”

  I push against her top notch and slowly open her up with my finger, sliding in to reach the center of her body.

  She’s breathing harder now. “Oh, Ethan.” Her back arches again.

  Carefully, I pull my finger out, get down on my stomach, pull her folds back, and press my tongue against her middle, probing and flicking.

  I look up, and she’s watching me, panting. Her legs relax around me and completely go limp.

  She takes her hands and holds my head, pushing me deeper into her. Watching me. Making a face of ecstasy.

  I’m about to come unglued. My dick aches for her, but I can’t stop watching her get off on this. I could watch her reach her limits forever. Holding her folds back, I flick her top notch again and push deeper on it.

  “Oh, God, Ethan.”

  Her hips rock against my mouth, and I take her in.

  But I stop because I know she’s reaching her limit, and I’d also like to slowly make love to her tonight.

  Her body relaxes once again on the mattress, but I move up her body and slam my mouth against hers. I don’t allow myself to slide into her yet, so I flip her and take in everything about her. From behind and on our side, I put my length against her backside as she moves her top leg to where it’s in the air. She turns on her back, so we’re like the letter T.

  Her opening is against me.

  “Inside me now, Ethan,” she begs.

  I don’t even think twice. I can’t. I feel the head of my length between her folds. “God, Bryce.”

  “Inside me, Ethan,” she pants.

  I do.

  With one swift movement, I push inside her until I can’t reach a place further.

  She calls out as I push and pull, and she stares into my eyes. She holds one of my bent legs between her legs as I press into her, something to hang on to. With the other hand, she grabs at her breast. I watch her as her eyes close, and she bites her bottom lip.

  This feels way too good. She’s way too wet.

  “You’re too wet, baby. We need to switch it up. This feels too good.”

  I pull out, and this time, she climbs on top of me. We join again, putting her mouth to mine.

  With a hooded look, she rocks against me. I push her hair back out of her eyes, grabbing the back of her neck. Then, I slide my hands to her ass, slowing her because, with what she’s doing to me, no doubt, I’ll blow it before she does, and that’s not happening.

  I sit up and take care of both breasts with my mouth, probing, kissing, giving each one equal attention.

  “Lie down,” she says.

  I do.

  I slip my finger between us, so every time she rocks, my finger meets her notch.

  She picks up pace, her eyes on me. “I’m going to come, Ethan.”

  I don’t answer her. I just stare back and keep my finger in its place.

  She shakes her head, rocks harder and faster. Closing her eyes tightly, she drops her head back and allows the pulse through her body to take over.

  Once I know she’s deeply satisfied, I pull out, flip her on all fours, and slide inside her.

  I take her hips in my hands and push and pull in quick succession.

  Stars.

  The bright full moon.

  Her face.

  I explode.

  Carefully, I pull out, scoop her up in my arms, and pull her to the pillows. I push us both under the covers and lie here, trying to put the world back where it belongs, trying to catch our breaths.

  Bryce turns toward me, my arms still protectively around her.

  “We need a couch in our living room. Two chairs for guests, but just one couch that we can watch the evening news on. We’ll also need this house, not your house up on the hill. And you’ll need to wear your uniform home every day. I’ll cook dinner in the nude.”

  I smile, pull her closer, and allow her scent to seduce me again. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’m kidding. I mean, wouldn’t that be awkward if Nana and Grandpa stopped by again, and there I was, in just an apron?”

  We both laugh.

  I agree, “Yeah, that would be a little awkward. But so are two ghosts showing up at our door.” I stop talking, taking in our future together. “We can build a house together, Bryce. We don’t have to live here. It’s old. Really old.”

  Bryce shakes her head. “No. This house is the house on Magnolia Road. It has memories, history. Memories that aren’t mine yet, but I’d like them to be. This is where we’re meant to be. Besides, where will Nana and Grandpa come when they want to pay us a visit? Surely, there are no directions in heaven to find the living.”

  “I’m sure they’ll know where to find us.” I kiss the top of her head, smile, and ask God how I got so lucky with this beautiful woman in my arms.

  And these words come to my head: grace and forgiveness.

  “Do you want children, Ethan?”

  “Four.”

  She freezes but quickly realizes I’m kidding—about the four part.

  “Let’s start with one.”

  “I hear it’s best to start trying early and quickly,
” I say, bending to kiss her already-swollen lips.

  She breathes me in. “The sooner, the better.”

  And we make love again.

  “So, how are things with you and Bryce?” James asks, setting down his bottled water on the coffee table between us.

  “Real good.”

  James knows me and knows that real good means real good. I don’t have to emphasize words or explain.

  James nods, setting his paper and pen next to his water. My hands grow sweaty.

  The rain starts to tap against the window of his office.

  “I think you’re ready, Ethan. I think you’re ready to move on. It’s been three years, and while I will never tell anyone they’re healed, because your PTSD will always be a part of you, you’ve learned to live with it, not against it. I’m not sure we need to meet anymore.”

  I knew this conversation would come. I, too, know it’s time. But I have one question for him. “Why do I get this beautiful life, James? Why me?”

  James sighs. “Grace.”

  I nod. “Yeah. That word just keeps coming up in life it seems.”

  “Trust it.” He pauses, almost apprehensive of the words, but he continues anyway, “Look, this is James, not James Rector, Ph.D. A friend. Not your therapist. This is my belief, not something you’ll ever read in some textbook. I believe nothing happens in this world by mistake. Nothing. We’re given this life to live, and grace comes. We might not think we deserve it but recognize it. Timing is everything. Think of it this way: you might have been ordered to come to counseling, but the military didn’t order you to see me in particular. You randomly chose a name based on your Google search and called. I think there was a reason you dialed my number and not anyone else’s. You met Bryce three years back, but again, timing is everything. You weren’t ready, and maybe she wasn’t prepared for the love you two shared. Grace. Maybe one of you would have screwed it up then.” His eyebrows rise. “Just my opinion, of course.”

  I sit here, wide-eyed. James is quiet most of the time. I know he’s got opinions, and when he’s ready to share them, he does. And, most of the time, he’s right.

  “Thank you, James.” I stand and stick my hand out to shake his. I want to say, There’s no way to repay you for what you’ve done for me, but maybe, someday, I somehow will. But I don’t say any of this. I hope, through my handshake and the look in my eyes, he’ll read it.