40-Love

by Olivia Dade

  “You would be amazing at that.” Her smile was shaky but genuine. “Then again, you’d be amazing at anything you chose to do, Lucas. You have to know that.”

  Fuck. If she kept being so sweet, he wouldn’t be able to finish this without either kissing her or crying.

  Squeezing her hand steadied him. “I volunteered to help him plan and promote the event this fall, so I can get a better sense of what the job would entail. But I think I would enjoy it, and I think it would suit my strengths. The ones you forced me to enumerate in detail, because you’re relentless and loving and fierce.” Unable to resist, he pressed a quick kiss to her soft lips. “In the meantime, he said he could hook me up with people who might want coaching from a former top-five player.”

  “You’d have work in Marysburg,” she said slowly.

  He inclined his head. “I’d have work in Marysburg. I could line up clients ahead of time, before the end of my contract here.” Ducking down, he made direct eye contact, because this was important. “Let me be clear, though. Whatever you decide tonight or next week or next month, I’m leaving this island at the end of the year. When that happens, I’d like to move to where you are. If you object, I won’t. But I’ll still leave here, even if you don’t want a life together. I’ll still adopt a school, even if it’s not yours. I’ll still find work I love in a community where I can set down roots, even if it’s not Marysburg.”

  Her hands weren’t trembling anymore, or cold. When she intertwined his fingers with hers, their warmth felt like a benediction.

  Maybe this time, he’d aimed true.

  Maybe this time, he was winning more than a point.

  “All this”—he pointed to the laptop screen—“is about you. I won’t deny that. But it’s also about me and the kind of future I want. I’m not simply drifting passively in your wake, Tess. I want to be your partner. In every sense of the word.”

  He leaned forward. Another two taps on the touchpad, and the e-mail he’d written the resort’s recreation supervisor appeared on screen. “No matter what, I’m taking several weeks off this fall. If necessary, I could spend that time looking for work and housing outside Marysburg, but I’d rather spend it with you instead.” When her forehead creased anew, and her lips parted, he held up a staying hand. “I know you can’t take that amount of vacation during the school year, and I don’t want you to. My goal is for us to experience a few weeks of your normal schedule together.”

  This time, she didn’t even try to interrupt. Instead, she appeared to be waiting patiently until he was done, her eyes wet, her lush mouth tipped at the corners with the beginnings of a smile.

  “Consider it a test run. I can stay at a hotel, or I can stay with you. Either way, I’ll volunteer with Sasha, nail down plans with the players’ association, and look at rental housing while you’re at work. Maybe I’ll even schedule a few lessons with potential clients. The evenings and weekends, we can spend together, and if you need to work at home or decide to have dinner with your friends instead of me some nights, so be it. I want a real taste of what our life together would be like.”

  One by one, he was anticipating her objections and fears. Controlling as many of the variables as possible, so she could take a risk and give them what they both wanted.

  “The visit might be disastrous.” He smiled at her. “But I doubt it. Either way, we’ll know more than we do now.”

  Lifting their joined hands, he pressed them over his heart.

  It wasn’t really his, though. Not anymore. Not for almost two weeks now.

  “One more thing.” Softly, he rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. “I love you. You can tell me it’s too fast, too much, but that won’t change anything. It’s a fact. A scientific truth. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west, the tides come and go, we’ll eventually grow old and die, and Lucas Karlsson loves Tess Dunn.”

  Her cheeks were damp now, her voice thick. “I think we need to work on your grasp of scientific theory.”

  “I want to be at your side for all of it. Every sunset, every low tide, every day of your life, as long as I’m alive and breathing on this earth.” His own voice was a pleading croak now, equally choked, and he didn’t care. “Give me a chance to prove it to you, älskling. Please.”

  When she drew back from him and stood, his muffled sound of grief should have humiliated him, but he was too bereft for pride. Too bereft to keep speaking, keep arguing.

  Instead, numb with misery, he simply watched her reach for her purse.

  He’d missed his shot. Lost the point, the game, the set, the match.

  He’d lost everything.

  Rather than taking her purse and leaving, though, she unzipped it and dug inside.

  “I’ll forward the e-mail confirmations to you later, but I printed these at the resort business center this morning. I wanted some sort of concrete physical documentation to show you. Feel free to call me old. I can take it.” She handed him a folded sheaf of papers, and he fumbled to hold them. Struggled to read them through wet eyes. “I need to be at school as much as possible this year, but I can take several long weekends if I prepare far enough ahead of time.”

  When he simply stared at her, too overwhelmed to piece together what she was saying, what she’d handed him, she stroked his cheek. “The plane tickets are nonrefundable. I’m coming to see you at least three times this fall, whether you want me or not.”

  “I do.” It was barely a sound, and as much as he could articulate. “You know I do.”

  Another stroke of his cheek, tender and warm. “I know.”

  After more digging in her purse, she produced something small. Removing the papers from his grasp, she laid them on the coffee table and deposited a key in his palm.

  When he closed his fist over that silver key, the movement sudden and fierce, she bit her lip. “I’m not ready to say you can move in. But I went to a hardware store on the mainland today and made you an extra key for my house, because you’re welcome there, and I want you with me, and I want us to figure out how a daily life together could work. Because I love you.”

  He bowed his head and fought for control.

  “This isn’t practical, you know.” Her palms cupping his face tipped it upward, until she could meet his blurry gaze. “Not something a reasonable forty-year-old woman would do.”

  He nuzzled into her hands. Rested there, content. “But?”

  “I trust you.” Her lips courted his, clinging for a sweet moment. “I trust myself.”

  “We can make this work,” he said against her mouth. “We will make this work.”

  It was a declaration. A vow made with the force of everything he held dear, everything he’d dreamed, everything he was.

  “I agree.” She smiled at him, her hazel eyes bright and warm and more beautiful than he could express in any language. “Let’s prove it.”

  Epilogue

  Lucas’s shot whizzed over the net to Tess’s side of the court, but getting to it would require running. An intense burst of speed, culminating in a dive for the ball and a frantic swing of her racket.

  Nope.

  Instead, she leaned on that racket and watched the ball pass by, then turned back to Lucas. “Nice shot.”

  “I didn’t mean to hit it that hard. Sorry.” In the partial darkness of the late-evening tennis court, the gleam of his grin shone from the shadows. “I got distracted and forgot what I was doing for a moment.”

  The sight of her in a sports bra tended to have that effect on him. At least she hadn’t whacked him in the nose with a ball yet, although the night was still young. Unlike her.

  As of tomorrow, she was forty-two. Back to fourteen years older than her boyfriend, instead of thirteen. She was also back to the gorgeous island where they’d first met.

  A fair tradeoff, in her view.

  She shook her head. “You know I’m always going to suck at tennis, right?”

  “I know.” He strolled toward her. Bending over to rest both elbows o
n the net, he regarded her with amusement. “You know I don’t give a shit, right?”

  “I know,” she said.

  Jesus, she was sweaty enough to singlehandedly keep any local desalinization plants in business. How had she forgotten the muggy heat of the island, even after such a long absence? Far enough away from the breezy shores, every breath felt like gargling soup. Given the occasional insect, chunky soup at that.

  She directed a longing glance in the direction of the beach. “How badly do you want to keep doing this?”

  He raised his brows. “It was your idea to play tennis the night we arrived, älskling. I wanted to watch you try on all your swimsuits so I could determine which one was most likely to fall off in the water. Then convince you to wear that suit exclusively. Then remove it with my teeth.”

  Dammit, she wanted that too. She really did.

  Stay focused, Dunn. You have plans to execute.

  “I thought it might be nice to return to the scene of the crime.” She walked closer to the net and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth. “So to speak.”

  “You did draw blood here, if I remember correctly.” He kissed her back, then wiggled the bridge of his nose, as if checking for damage. “But if you want to go where we first met, we have to head to the ocean. Although you’re basically underwater as it is, what with all that sweat glistening over your—”

  She gave him a gentle whack on the shoulder with her racket. “Skank.”

  He spread his hands, the picture of outraged innocence. “I was talking about your water bottle. It’s sweating. Covered with condensation. Sexy, sexy condensation.”

  His eyes were definitely not on her water bottle.

  “Want to go to the beach?” For her purposes, the more private the location, the better. “How about that little sandbar on the adults-only end of the island? I know we didn’t actually meet there, but it’s so peaceful.”

  They could both use a little peace. More than a little, to be honest.

  Her work life hadn’t slowed over the last two years, and neither had Lucas’s. On a daily basis, he was running his foundation and coordinating the partnership between underprivileged schools and the players’ association—all on top of his part-time duties at the tennis center. Since a chance meeting at the Challenger-level tournament earlier that year, he’d also started consulting regularly with Lilly Tulu, who was recovering from yet another surgery and willing to travel to Marysburg for his guidance.

  Despite all that, he still had energy to burn at night. So much energy.

  God bless Mr. Perky.

  Tess’s own daily schedule was equally packed. Although she’d managed to delegate some of her administrative duties at school, weekdays still teemed with meetings and paperwork. As of that spring, she had regular physical therapy appointments for her knee too. The time those appointments took still rankled her, but even she had to admit it: They helped. A lot.

  To his credit, Lucas hadn’t pushed her, and he didn’t say I told you so. Instead, he helped her with the exercises, accompanied her to the doctor when he could, and incessantly discussed which new sexual positions a healthier knee would make possible. Which was the best possible motivation for continuing her appointments, something he definitely understood.

  For a European playboy bro, he was awfully clever. Which was one of many reasons they’d moved in together just over a year ago.

  Two weeks later, she’d earned her new title at work.

  Cressida had delayed her retirement as long as possible. But last August, Tess had officially become principal of Marysburg High.

  Her dream. For a long time, her only one.

  Not anymore.

  “The sandbar it is.” Lucas took her racket and tucked it under his arm. “Why don’t I return everything to the clubhouse while you rest for a minute?”

  Lifting her damp hand, he flattened her palm against his cheek and nuzzled his bristles against her tender skin until she shivered at the prickle.

  “Am I going to need the rest?” she asked, her voice husky.

  His teeth sank into that soft swell of flesh just below her thumb. Not enough to break the skin. Just enough to excite her.

  At her gasp, he smiled slowly. “Yes.”

  “Why are you bringing your tote bag?” Lucas removed it from her shoulder and swung it over his as they walked to the beach. “I’ve got the towels, I put the room key in my swim trunks, and you don’t need sunscreen at night.”

  She didn’t break stride. “I wanted to bring something…special. You’ll see.”

  “Ah. I do see.” He sped up, just a little. “Naughty, naughty, Principal Dunn.”

  She wasn’t even nervous. Why wasn’t she nervous?

  Within minutes, they’d arrived at their destination. The adults-only tip of the island, where the shush of the waves mingled with the flutter of a breeze through palm fronds.

  In this spot, it was almost completely dark. Private.

  Perfect.

  Only feet away, the water lapped at the shore. And just beyond the point where that water seemed too deep, past the few fraught feet where she’d struggle to keep her head above surface, the sandbar waited for them.

  This time, she knew Lucas would ease her through the frightening moments when her toes no longer touched bottom. He’d support her so she didn’t need to worry. Hold her hand as she forged ahead.

  Inevitably, the sand would rise again to meet her. Then they’d sit hip to hip, swaying in the gentle, unceasing advance and retreat of the ocean. They’d let the silky sand dissolve through their fingers and swirl their hands through the warm, buoyant water.

  They’d be. Just be. Together.

  Paradise. But no more so than the house they now shared, their daily lives full of meetings and frustrations and laughter and the look on Lucas’s face each and every time she came home.

  Lit from within. Incandescent with love.

  So no, she wasn’t nervous. She was as buoyant as that swirling water.

  She couldn’t wait for the sandbar. She couldn’t wait another moment.

  When she fell to one knee in the damp sand, Lucas swore and dropped everything. “Tess, are you okay? Did you twist your knee? Because I can call for—”

  He was crouching down, his hands grasping her shoulders, his brow creased with worry as he frantically scanned her for injuries.

  Yup. He’d completely missed the point of all this.

  The rings helped, once she fished their velvet boxes from the depths of the tote bag.

  Men didn’t usually receive engagement rings, but she didn’t want a long engagement anyway. Not this time. She figured he could use the band as his wedding ring too. And she absolutely loved the design she’d picked for both of them. No diamonds anywhere to be found. Just wide circles inscribed with the date they’d met.

  The day her dreams had multiplied and started coming true.

  “I love you, Lucas Stig Karlsson. As long as I live, I’ll want you by my side. As long as I live, I’ll stay by yours.” She smiled into his astonished face. “Will you marry me?”

  Silence. He didn’t say a word.

  Nothing.

  Nada.

  Okay, now she was getting a teensy bit nervous.

  “Tess…” He stared down at the platinum bands cradled in her palm, and then—to her shock—started laughing. “Älskling, I have two rings in my suitcase back in our room. Along with tickets for Vegas, in case you wanted to cut our trip here short and get married right away. That would be my preference, incidentally.”

  Oh, thank God. “Mine too. The black oblong boxes have rings in them?”

  He nodded.

  She grinned at him. “I thought those were sex toys.”

  “I know you did.” He winked at her. “The sex toys are in a different bag.”

  Then he was on his knees too, her hands in his, the rings she’d chosen pressed between their palms. “Tessa Bethany Dunn, I love you. I’ll always love you, and I’d be proud as hell to call
myself your husband. Will you marry me?”

  Her kiss, her smile through her tears, served as her answer.

  Much later, when they were both wearing their rings and skirting the border of public indecency charges, she pulled slightly away from him, panting.

  “Lucas…” When the breeze ruffled his hair, she smoothed it with unsteady fingers. “We should go back to our room. In about half an hour, servers are going to start bringing every single item from The Sands’s dinner menu to our room.”

  A smile spread slowly across his face, and his dimples popped. “You’re giving yourself what you want.”

  “All of it. Practical or not.” Her breath caught as he squeezed her ass, the gesture possessive and approving. “It seemed like a fitting start to our engagement.”

  “Definitely,” he said, nipping at the sensitive spot just below her ear. “And it would definitely be fitting if I did this too.”

  “Maybe illegal,” she managed to say as his hands roamed freely, “but very fitting.”

  After another breathless interlude, he gave her one last kiss, reluctantly disentangled himself from her arms, and got to his feet with a groan. “We need to go. Shame on you for distracting me, Principal Dunn.”

  She shook her head at him. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “You’re welcome.” His rumbling voice was smug. So very smug.

  If she didn’t love him so much, she’d probably find that annoying, rather than sexy.

  Alas.

  “Lucas…” Even though she could do it on her own, she still held out her hand to him. “Will you help me up?”

  His eyes went soft. Taking her hand, he eased her to her feet.

  “Always, Tess.” He stood by her, hip to hip. Her friend, her lover, her fiercest ally. Her heart, strong and true. “Always.”