Deepest Blues
Page 26
“Who was it?” Clarke asked sleepily, snuggling into his embrace.
“Greta had the twins. One of each.”
“Hm.” He could tell she was smiling in her sleep. “Finally. Shane got his little girl.”
“They named the girl Aurora... and the boy Paul.”
Clarke stirred slightly. “I like that.”
“Me too.”
Mike placed a kiss on her bare shoulder and smiled against her skin. He had been smiling nonstop for three days. Because three days ago Clarke took his name, his ring, and his heart. Officially. Legally. Permanently.
They had taken their time, not rushing into anything too fast. Letting their relationship grow and bloom at a natural pace. The wedding was almost three years to the day they met.
The ceremony was small, but still larger than Clarke wanted. Some of that couldn't be helped. The wedding party alone was ten people.
Shane had given Clarke away. On a beach. At sunset.
Mike had committed the colors of the sky to memory. He was doing that all of the time now. The longer he was with Clarke, the more colors he noticed. All of the colors. Buckets of them.
He took her to Key Largo for their honeymoon. It was a surprise. One that he was well rewarded for.
Mike took a hand and ran it along her arm softly; her skin was like silk. He could get lost in her. But it wasn't terrifying anymore. No, he knew that getting lost in Clarke was the safest place for him on this planet. She centered him, pulled him deep, kept his heart secure.
He kissed her again, right where her neck sloped into her shoulder. He slowly worked his way up until he'd reached her ear and she was turning in his arms. Her mouth found his with delicate precision. He delighted in her taste, her smell, her entire being.
For Mike's whole life, his head and heart had been full of tangles. He'd known his father didn't want him, and as he grew older he realized his mom didn't want him either. He'd spent the better portion of his life trying to earn people's love. Trying to prove he was worth loving.
He never had to prove that with Clarke. She loved him without proof. She loved his tangles and his shadows. She loved his mismatched rhythm because it miraculously matched her own.
She had saved him, in a way.
He was always going to be fine. He had his band mates, who were closer than any blood relatives he had. He was deep in recovery, with God as his ally. His life was going to be just fine.
But he didn't have to settle for fine. Because Clarke had shown up and made it amazing.
Her hands slid up his abs and pressed gently on his chest as their kiss deepened. Her fingers flexed against his skin and he was reminded of the tattoo over his heart.
After several sessions with Tank, it was a whole new flower. He'd added green to the blue cornflower, shadowed it with bronze and deeper blues, turning it into a one-of-a-kind exotic floral explosion. The knife in his back he had had changed into a cross. Both were symbols of his redemption. Clarke had kissed every inch of them last night, making that redemption feel even sweeter.
He threaded his fingers through her glorious hair and tilted her head so he could deepen the kiss. Her body responded accordingly and she wrapped him in her limbs.
Mike was happy, beyond happy, with the way their love had progressed. But if he had known the kind of passionate intensity that making her his wife would bring on, he would have done it sooner.
She was carrying him away. Pulling him into her waves of endless affection. Showing him what it meant to live.
***
Clarke sat up in the bed and pushed her back against the headboard. She'd woken up in the king-sized comfort alone. She could hear Mike stirring in the outer room and she called to him.
“Wait just a minute. Don't leave the bed,” he instructed with a grin, poking his head in the doorway.
She complied and pulled the sheet up and around her to cover her nakedness. Moments later, Mike came in with a wooden tray of food. Not a little, either. A lot of food.
Pancakes, eggs, waffles, bacon, sausages, juice, coffee, milk, and fruit. He placed the tray on her lap and then joined her on the bed.
She gave him a look from the corner of her eye. He chuckled.
“We've been pretty active and I didn't want your blood sugar to dip too low,” he teased with an added kiss to her neck.
Clarke took a strip of bacon and bit into it without responding. Because he was right. She was starving. And yesterday she had eaten her entire breakfast and then finished his.
She took her half-eaten bacon strip and offered it to him. He held her eyes while he took a bite. She felt tingles in her stomach.
She cleared her throat and looked back to the food. “What do you want to do today?”
“Be with you,” he answered roughly, his lips placing a kiss just below her earlobe. She sighed.
Her eyes closed as she tried to focus on the conversation even as he offered her favorite distraction by kissing a line down her neck to her bare shoulder. She had no idea until Mike came along how weak that action made her. Every time.
“What if we go surfing today? That might be nice.” She was completely aware of how breathless her voice sounded. So she ate another piece of bacon.
Mike's soft laugh against her skin made her heart somersault. “We can do anything you want, Slim.”
“Stop distracting me,” she pleaded gently. “If I don't eat, I'll die.”
He chuckled and pressed one more kiss to her shoulder before sitting up and snagging his own strip of bacon. He crunched down on it and flashed her a grin. “Don't be so dramatic. You won't die.”
She rolled her eyes even as she smiled and shifted so she could eat more comfortably. “Threatening to die is the only thing I've found to get you to take me seriously.” He answered with another deep chuckle and a light pinch to her ribs.
They ate together quietly. Taking turns teasing and stealing each other's food. It was fantastic. Clarke was looking forward to many more years of exactly this.
“I love you,” Mike said suddenly after a lull in the conversation. His tone serious. Deep with meaning.
Clarke looked to her right and flashed him a smile. He didn't return it, instead he took the tray and set it off to the side. Then he came back to gather her in his arms and pull her down into the bed. He braced himself on one forearm and tucked her hair behind one ear. His pale blue eyes searched hers and she waited.
Mike did this often. He'd declare something with meaning and then want to make sure she understood it. She found early on that she enjoyed his methods.
“Sometimes I think that you don't know what I mean when I tell you I love you.” He paused, his eyes a gentle caress on every feature of her face, hovering briefly on her lips. He went back to her eyes before he continued speaking. “Sometimes I think maybe you might not know what I feel for you, what you mean to me.”
Clarke's heart pounded hard in her chest and she breathed deeply. Mike wasn't just a deep thinker. He felt deeply too. So deeply, sometimes she thought she might get lost in his love. This was one of those times.
“Maybe you don't understand that I see how much you love me everyday. How much you love life. Every single day, Clarke. You bring your best. Even if you're tired, even if nothing is making sense, even if your 'best' that day isn't as great as your 'best' was a week ago. You still do it. And I admire you for it. You're the reason I never give up. You're the one who inspires me to do my best. And sometimes I don't think you know that when I say, 'I love you,' what I'm really saying is, 'I see you. I see how hard you work. I see how hard you try. I see all of your colors. I see all of you. And I love you for being that. For being you.'”
Clarke didn't have time to respond because then Mike's mouth was on hers, swallowing her response, taking it and making it something else. Another expression of the kind of beauty that she hadn't even known was possible until he came into her life and showed her what it meant to live.
And that's what he was. That's what
they were together.
Alive.
*** The End ***
The Double Blind Study series continues in The Hope That Starts with Harrison O'Neil.
Acknowledgments
I highly doubt I would be able to properly thank all the people who have been important to me during the writing of this particular book.
As always, Scott Colby and my FFP family.
Tara, thank you for not killing me. Thank you for making me look like I might know what I'm doing.
Jamie, for making me laugh and laugh and laugh. And for not ever making fun of my butt without my permission.
Laura, I will gladly be the John to your Sherlock. You don't even have to wear pants for me.
Kellcie, I'm not sure if I ever told you how inspiring you are and how much it means to have your friendship in my life. It's verra special to me.
Jo, you are our Lestrade. You keep us from getting into trouble while still believing in us. Thank you so much.
Charles, how many ways can I tell you that you make me have all the feels? Thank you for being my biggest source of encouragement and support.
My entire family, for being amazing.
And God, for giving me this and them and all the rest.
About the Author
Heidi Hutchinson was born in South Dakota and raised the exact right distance away from the Black Hills. She had an overactive imagination very early on, and wasted no time in getting most of her friends in trouble due to her unrealistic and completely ridiculous ideas. Seeing as she was so lazy and also afraid people would think she was bonkers, she didn't write down any of the story lines that played out in her daydreams.
During her high school years, she took pen to paper and filled more notebooks than she is proud of with angsty, depressing, self-depreciating poetry. This led to her writing down more things: notes, ideas, character bios, plot twists that had no plot yet to twist. After years of cleaning up her own scraps of imagination with nothing solid to hold on to, she sat down and wrote the story that had been in her head the longest. Fueled by coffee and her unwavering and perfectly normal devotion to Dave Grohl, she discovered a writer living inside of her.
She still lives in the Midwest, though not as close to the Black Hills as she would prefer, with her alarmingly handsome husband and their fearless child. They eat more pizza than God intended and she listens to her music the same way she lives: loudly.
Links to Author:
Facebook: http://facebook.com/heidirhutchinson
Blog: http://heidihutchinson.blogspot.com
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7275775.Heidi_Hutchinson
Twitter: http://twitter.com/ChosenbyFaith
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author