Love Me Like I Love You

by Willow Winters

I swallow painfully. “You got him, right here.”

  She steps closer. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Unshed tears glisten in her eyes. “I’ve loved you my whole life.” A tear escapes, tracking down her cheek.

  “Because I need to—”

  “No.” She cuts me off fiercely. “I’ve only ever needed you. I’ve only been happiest with you. I’ve never”—her voice cracks, more tears trickle down her beautiful face, and it fucking guts me—“cared about the money or your job.” She takes another step toward me. “It’s always been you, Hollis. Alw—”

  I grip her nape and tug her mouth to mine, capturing her lips in a kiss I’ve been dying for. She wraps her arms around me, pulling me closer, and I pour everything into the kiss—every single ounce of my love for her.

  We finally draw apart, and I rest my forehead against hers. Eyes closed, I take a moment to breathe her in, to bask in the feel of her in my arms.

  “Feel like gettin’ married, Barnes?”

  I let out a surprised laugh and lean back to peer down at her. “I reckon we need a marriage license first.”

  “True.” Blue eyes gaze up at me with so much love it makes it hard to breathe. “But maybe we can practice. There’s a perfectly good cake and everythin’.” Her lips twist mischievously. “I may have told the guests to hang out for a bit. That I was plannin’ to bring someone special back with me.”

  “Pretty sure of yourself, huh?”

  Her expression sobers, and she shakes her head. “No.” With affection and love etched on her features, she whispers, “I was just really hopin’ you’d choose me.”

  Magnolia

  LATER THAT NIGHT

  “Hollis Barnes,” I tease playfully. “Is this where you bring all the ladies?”

  He helps me up the ladder and tugs me inside the treehouse. “No, ma’am. Only one lucky lady’s ever been up here.”

  “That so?” I grin up at him before his mouth finds mine once again, and I get lost in his kiss. I tug at his clothing and his fingers encircle my wrists, stopping me, before he backs away.

  “I didn’t plan on this, so I need to get things situated.” He tips his head in the direction of the sleeping bag he’d tossed inside seconds ago along with the air mattress stowed on the shelf.

  Within a few minutes, we have everything set up. He’s shucked his suit jacket and unbuttoned his cuffs to roll them up, baring his muscled forearms to offer me a view of the inked skin beneath. Those slacks of his accentuate his strong, firm thighs and backside.

  He turns and catches me in my pathetic attempt at removing the headband-veil combo from my head and stops me.

  “Let me.”

  With gentleness that makes my heartbeat stutter, he removes countless bobby pins, releasing my hair from their confines, as well as the headband and attached veil, before setting everything aside. I turn around, gathering my hair in hand and draping it over one shoulder.

  “The zipper and the hooks are—”

  “I’ve got this.” His husky voice sends a rush of shivers through me. Roughened fingertips lightly abrade my skin as he carefully unfastens my dress. Soft lips press to the side of my neck, his beard rasping at my sensitive flesh, before his tongue darts out for a quick taste.

  He continues unfastening, landing tender kisses, taking tiny little tastes with his tongue, until he finally eases the dress off me, leaving me completely bare. Fiery hot need pulses through my veins. I turn to face him, and his dark gaze locks with mine.

  “Shortcake,” he says hoarsely. “Tell me you weren’t like this the entire night.”

  I can’t resist the mischievous grin that forms on my lips. “I took off my panties earlier, hopin’ you’d…” I trail off with a blush.

  “Hopin’ I’d what?”

  He tugs me close, and I make quick work of the buttons of his shirt, which is a feat with his hands caressing my body, leaving a blaze of searing heat in their wake. When he dips his head, his playful nips along my neck have me gasping.

  “Hopin’ I’d touch you here?”

  One hand skims between my thighs, his thick fingers teasing my entrance, causing my breath to lodge in my throat.

  “Or…” Hollis places my palm over the impossibly hard ridge of his erection. “Maybe you wanted this?”

  A rush of breath escapes my lips. “Yes.”

  I unfasten his pants and hastily shove them down. He kicks them aside before my hand dives beneath his boxers to wrap around his thick shaft. His fingers close over mine, guiding me to slide down to the base before gliding back up his steely length.

  Releasing his hold on my hand, he drops his arm to his side. His fists clench, his struggle for control evident. Heavy-lidded eyes watch me while I stroke him. The harsh groan that erupts from his lips, the guttural way he says my name when I graze the pad of my thumb over the slit, gathering the moisture there, intensifies the needy ache between my legs.

  An edge of desperation colors his voice. “Fuck, that feels good.”

  His hips arch into my touch, silently begging for more. Then I shove his boxers down past his muscular thighs, letting them drop to his ankles before he kicks them off. I help him remove his shirt, leaving him perfectly bare.

  Now, I get to look at him. My Hollis. The man, not the boy.

  Intricate tattooed designs cover his arms and chest and I trace them with my fingertips, in awe of the beautiful abstract art displayed on his skin. He cups my nape, fusing his mouth to mine before gliding one blunt fingertip inside me. I gasp at his touch, the throbbing between my legs becoming incessant. His beard rasps against my skin in the most delicious way possible while his tongue dives inside to tangle with my own.

  I clutch at him, one of my hands moving to sift through his hair. His touch, his kiss, is so different yet so familiar. My body burns for him, my nipples hard against the firm wall of his muscled chest.

  He breaks the kiss, his breath coming in harsh pants. Leaning away just a fraction to gaze at me, his expression is raw and fierce. “You won’t regret this.”

  At the vulnerability in his tone, I move to cradle his jaw in my hands. Eyes locked, I whisper the truth. “I could never regret you.”

  I hesitate, and he seems to somehow understand, waiting patiently. “You’re the only one I’ve ever been with…” I trail off, a blush rising on my cheeks.

  “Bare?” His voice is low and gravelly. His eyes flare, turning molten, searing me with heated lust. “Is that what you’re sayin’, baby girl?” He adds a second finger, the long, thick digits sliding inside me languidly. “My cock is the only one you let inside you without protection?” His words incinerate me from within.

  My answer comes out as a whimper. “Yes.”

  He groans against my lips, nipping gently, before lifting and carrying me to the mattress now covered by the sleeping bag.

  With such reverence it nearly brings tears to my eyes, he lays me down before covering me with his hard body. Resting his weight on his forearms, he tunnels his fingers in my hair and buries his face in my neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses in his wake.

  “Same goes for me,” he whispers hoarsely.

  Then, catching my lower lip between his, he sucks gently before releasing it. I groan and arch my body, desperate to relieve the incessant pressure between my thighs.

  “Tell me what you want.” His tone is raspy with need.

  “You.” I gasp when the tip of his arousal brushes against my clit.

  A slight grimace flickers across his face. “This time’ll be short.” He ducks his head, capturing my nipple between his lips and sucking hard before pressing a light kiss to the very tip. Shivers skitter down the length of my spine, and a rush of wetness floods me between my thighs. “But I swear I’ll make up for it.”

  When I take his heavy length in my palm, he lets out a tortured-sounding groan. I guide his flared head to my entrance and drag the tip through my wetness before lining him up. His heated gaze bores into mine as he nudges my opening, teasing me brief
ly before sinking inside the slightest fraction. I arch on a gasp co-mingled with his throaty groan.

  He stares down at me, eyes glazed with lust, and presses deeper. I clutch at him with a tiny whimper.

  “More,” I demand.

  He fuses his mouth to mine, our tongues colliding in a devouring kiss a split second before he fills me with every inch of his rigid length. My inner muscles instinctively grip him and his guttural moan vibrates against my lips.

  Once he begins moving, driving deep in a seductive rhythm, I break the kiss and bring my focus to where our bodies join. Slick with our combined arousal, he slides in and out of me. His abdominals flex and ripple with each thrust.

  I drag a finger down the center of his chest to trace the light dusting of hair leading from below his navel to his groin. His body tenses, his eyes falling closed as though to savor my touch. A low growl rumbles in the back of his throat and his eyes flash open, a wildness in the depths.

  Capturing my bottom lip between his teeth, he tugs playfully before soothing it with a kiss. Then he drapes one of my knees over the crook of his elbow, and the instant he does, the angle allows him to slide even deeper.

  “Want you to come hard for me.” My inner muscles clench around him in response to his seductive words, and he sucks in a ragged breath.

  I clutch at him. “Hollis.”

  Panting breaths rush from his lips. “I’ve got you, baby girl.” He murmurs this a split second before his mouth lands on mine in a hot, hard, possessive kiss that makes me frantic for more. His thumb finds my clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure while circling it. I whimper against his lips as I grow wetter and wetter, coating him with more of my arousal.

  Powerful thrusts combined with his thumb working my clit drive me closer to the edge. The instant he tugs at my sensitive flesh with his thumb and forefinger, it triggers my orgasm. Hollis continues driving deep, working me through my release as my inner muscles spasm around him, pleasure coursing through my body. He goes taut a split second before a powerful shudder overtakes him and he releases inside me in wet, hot spurts.

  He shifts, rolling us to our sides, his arm still securing me to him. His lips find my forehead and linger there. “God, I love you.” His words, whispered in a panting breath, hold a hint of wonder in them.

  I tug the sleeping bag over us, snuggling closer. My eyes remain closed as a blissful smile lingers on my lips. Exhaustion from the day pulls me under, and I distantly register Hollis’ words, spoken so softly, in the barest whisper.

  “You won’t regret this, Shortcake.” His voice cracks with emotion. A featherlight kiss grazes my forehead. “I love you. Like that.” He exhales slowly, his warm breath soothing me.

  “Always like that.”

  Hollis

  THREE MONTHS LATER

  Atlanta, Georgia

  It’s great to be home after being out of town a week and a half for work. I don’t reckon I’ve ever been so thankful for FaceTime and getting to see Magnolia. Still, nothing’s better than having her within arm’s reach.

  She would’ve gone with me on this work trip, but she’s taking marketing classes in order to eventually join the Custom Motorwerks team.

  After telling her how much we struggle to balance everything and still have a reasonable marketing plan in place, Magnolia offered to step in and help. She convinced me it was what she wanted to do, insisting she was more than content to leave politics—a career she’d never been crazy about to begin with—behind. Since starting her courses, she’s been doing well and has already come up with some killer ideas.

  Magnolia’s hand is in mine as we approach the large, newly constructed treehouse in our backyard. Then she whispers words I’ll never tire of hearing.

  “I love you.”

  At the base of the ladder, I turn and take her face in my hands. The light from the nearly full moon illuminates her beautiful features. “I love you.” With a tender kiss, I briefly rest my forehead to hers and murmur the words we’ve since changed. “Like that.” Then, I step back and gesture for her to precede me up the ladder.

  Once we’re inside and I’ve closed the hatch door behind us, we lie back on the soft sleeping bags. The two battery-powered lanterns cast a faint glow over the interior.

  As soon as we moved into our new house, only a short drive from where the shop is, Magnolia and I went to work on building this treehouse. It was pretty labor intensive since I decided to add a skylight so we can look up at the stars.

  It’s wired for electricity and we’ve included an air-conditioning window unit, just like Dad had done. We took a board from the back of my old treehouse and nailed it on one of the inside walls of this one. It’s the board Dad insisted we carefully carve our names into long ago.

  Built by: Dad, Hollis & Magnolia

  Maybe it’s odd to have a treehouse when we’re in our twenties, but we don’t care. This brings back treasured memories for both of us.

  We lie back and gaze at the sparkling night sky above us. She curls up along my side, our fingers laced together, and we have the pillows propped beneath our heads.

  “You know what’s missin’?” she asks suddenly.

  I laugh softly. “Got you covered.” I reach into the pocket of my shorts and hand her the packet of Pop Rocks.

  “You’re the best.” She sits up and carefully rips open the top, ready to shake some out of the packet when she goes utterly still.

  I study her reaction carefully. Then, her lips part before her gaze slowly lifts to mine, eyes brimming with tears.

  “Hollis?”

  “I wanted to do this right. But still our way.” I sit up slowly. “This is your choice. I’ll love you forever, regardless of your answer—that’s a known. But I’d be honored if you’d choose to marry me and be my wife. Take my name.” A hint of a nervous smile tugs at my mouth. “It’s only a three-letter change, if that sways you any.”

  I sober, clear my throat, and dart a nervous glance at the packet she holds. “That ring in there, it’s a promise. I’ll be with you, by your side, through everythin’ and anythin’. If you choose me, I promise you won’t regret it.” My voice breaks as my eyes burn with unshed tears.

  She reaches inside and plucks the ring between her thumb and forefinger. It’s the closest I could have made to what she talked about as a little girl. A two-carat oval-shaped diamond surrounded by tiny diamonds on a simple band.

  Tears spill down her cheeks as she holds the ring and looks at me. “Oh, Hollis,” Magnolia murmurs softly. She leans forward, pressing her lips to mine, and whispers, “Yes.”

  Her response sends relief coursing through me, and I carefully slide the ring on her finger. Our eyes lock, and I take the candy from her, setting it on the small shelf, before I tunnel my fingers in her hair and capture her lips with mine.

  Within a moment, she’s beneath me, and I’m kissing her—my fiancée. My best friend. The woman I plan to spend the rest of my life with.

  The only woman who owns me, heart and soul.

  Hollis

  EIGHT MONTHS LATER

  Atlanta, Georgia

  The bride is beautiful. Breathtaking, actually. I’ve never seen a more stunning sight before in my life.

  Her dress is simple, white and lacy and ankle-length. It’s strapless, baring her tanned shoulders and arms. One sparkly hair comb holds one side of her blond hair back, and her loose waves tease the tops of her shoulders. Her blue eyes lock with mine, and a sweet, soft smile plays at her lips.

  The best part of all of this is that she’s planning to marry me.

  This backyard wedding might not be exactly how she saw it playing out years ago, but from the look on her face, she doesn’t mind one bit.

  The hand that settles on my shoulder gives it a quick, comforting squeeze, but I can’t bring myself to look away from Magnolia as she approaches. Once she’s within two steps from where I stand with her grandpa Joe, a sense of awe stutters through me.

  She takes another
step, her eyes never leaving mine.

  My emotions become a turbulent upheaval and my eyes grow wet. My throat is tight. The final step she takes, drawing to a stop beside me, has me dragging in a much-needed breath, my lungs burning.

  Blue eyes still locked with mine, Magnolia carefully hands her bouquet to Stephanie. My soon-to-be wife smiles wider and a tiny tear trickles from the corner of her eye. I carefully smooth it away before taking her hands in mine.

  Grandpa Joe begins the ceremony while Stephanie and her husband Tommy, Grant, my uncle Johnny, and a few other close friends we’ve made since relocating to Atlanta, look on.

  “I love you,” she silently mouths.

  And, of course, I respond the only way I possibly can.

  “Like that.”

  Epilogue

  Magnolia

  “Mommy! Come and see what Daddy and I made!”

  I walk down the hall to where my husband and six-year-old son, Jase—or J, as we’ve nicknamed him—have been quietly working at the dining room table. When I see what they’ve built, I can’t help but smile at the rush of memories that hits me.

  Hollis grins up at me from where he sits with our son. “Might look a little familiar.” He winks as I survey the light blue convertible model car they put together. Much like the one we drove off in after we got married, although ours was pink.

  “I love it, baby.” I press a kiss to the top of J’s light brown hair. “You did such a great job.”

  “Thanks, Mommy.” He concentrates on the car before looking at Hollis. “I think that bumper’s a little crooked, though.”

  My husband’s eyes narrow as he surveys the car. “Hmm.” He leans in close and speaks in a hushed voice. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

  J grins, one bottom front tooth missing. “Deal.”

  The doorbell rings, and our son practically vibrates with excitement. “Uncle Grant’s here!”