by Addison Cole
“Shh!” the three others chided her.
“Do you want Theresa running out here?” Bella squinted into the darkness. “What is th—”
Suddenly a string of holiday lights lit up around the pool, illuminating a plethora of vibrating sex toys, handcuffs, and other sex paraphernalia hanging on the fence. Vibrant yellow, bright pink, and shimmering blue vibrators shivered and shook. Some flashed, and others remained like steady beacons in the night.
“Oh my gosh!” Jenna yelled, then cackled loudly, hanging on to Bella so tight she nearly pulled her under the water.
Amy and Sky burst out laughing, while Bella’s face was a mask of shock—eyes wide, mouth agape.
“Look!” Jenna pointed to the gate, where Theresa stood with her arms crossed and a smirk on her lips.
“Oh, I will get her back for this,” Bella promised as laughter finally burst from her lips. “I will get her back so good!”
Jenna crossed her arms over her boobs and sank under the water up to her chin. “Get down!”
They all sank under the water up to their chins, laughing and holding on to one another.
“The cookie dough!” Amy yelled, which only made them laugh harder.
“Can we keep the toys?” Jenna hollered between laughs.
Sky roared with laughter and lost her balance, falling beneath the water. When she broke through the surface, her finger shot toward the sky, and she yelled, “I call the blue one!”
“Hear that, Sawyer?” Tony’s deep voice cut through their laughter. Pete and Caden rose to their feet from beach chairs they’d set out on the lawn and clapped and whistled. Sawyer stood off to the side with a hand over his mouth, and Sky knew he was stuck between wanting to laugh and not knowing if he should.
“Ohmygosh,” Amy said. “Did our men help her?”
“They are so dead,” Jenna said, stomping toward the stairs.
All three girls dove after her, holding her in the pool.
“You’re naked!” Bella yelled.
“Pete is dead meat,” Jenna said with a scowl. “Naked or not, he’s a traitor and he’s gonna pay.” She squinted in the direction of a pair of fuzzy green handcuffs hanging on the fence. “I just need those handcuffs!”
WHEN TONY CAME by Sky’s cottage and woke Sawyer up, telling him, Time for your initiation, he had no idea what to expect—and he was shocked to find that he was alone in Sky’s bed. He heard the girls giggling as soon as he and the others snuck down by the pool, but still they hadn’t filled him in on what was going on. Now, as the girls hollered for the men to turn around and Theresa walked toward her house snickering, he could barely contain his laughter. But as he stood with his back to the pool, giving Sky and the girls privacy to cover themselves up, it was what he’d heard while sitting in the dark that was replaying in his head like a rerun—Sky’s voice, filled with happiness: I love love! And I think I love Sawyer, too!
He’d spent his entire adult life training for fights, but nothing could have prepared him for the way his heart nearly exploded inside his chest at hearing Sky say those words, even if only to her friends.
“Hey,” Sky said as she came to his side, shivering in a towel. Her hair was wet and her cheeks pink, and she had an adorable smile on her lips.
He wrapped her in his arms and pulled her in close, while a few feet away Bella and Jenna gave Caden and Pete a hard time for helping Theresa.
“What happens now?” he asked.
She shrugged with a soft laugh. “According to Bella, Theresa just upped the ante. I guess next summer will bring a whole new level of pranking.”
Amy and Tony talked quietly as they walked past Sawyer and Sky.
Tony lifted his chin to Sawyer. His smile reached his eyes, and as Amy gazed up at her man, her smile was just as broad. “Welcome to Seaside.”
Sawyer looked down at Sky and said, “I can’t think of anyplace I’d rather be.”
Chapter Nineteen
SAWYER TRAINED HARDER than he ever had for the next week. He decreased his running, increased sparring times, and Roach brought in incrementally harder sparring partners, all leading up to next week’s heavyweight sparring match, which Sky’s friends were coming to watch.
Sawyer had been spending nights at Sky’s cottage since the evening of the sex-toy prank, which her friends were still laughing over—and Bella was still stewing over. The more time he spent with Sky and her friends, the more he felt like part of their group. He and the guys had gone for several morning runs together, and he’d gotten to know Tony, Pete, and Caden well. They were all so in love with their wives that they talked about them even while they ran. That had made Sawyer feel even more at ease, as Sky was always on his mind, and it would have been hard trying to cover that up.
He’d come back to his house this afternoon to oversee the final painting of the interior and to pack for their overnight on Pete’s boat. The ramp to the skycap had finally been installed. He assessed the wheelchair ramp that ran up the center of the house. The ramp led up to a landing on the second floor, where there was enough room to turn a wheelchair around safely, and then continued up to the skycap. The painters had left an hour ago, and once the paint dried, the house would be presentable before his father’s return after Sawyer’s title fight—to celebrate Sawyer’s win. He had no doubt that he’d win his title fight. He was ready.
Sawyer went up to the bedroom and packed a duffel bag with enough clothes for the week, knowing that he and Sky would rather spend time at Seaside than here, and there was no longer a question of if they would stay together. Their coupledom was a given, and that was something he’d not only never had before, but he’d never imagined wanting. And now he couldn’t imagine a life without Sky.
He set his duffel bag out in the hall and went up to the skycap one last time before heading over to pick up Sky. It was a clear afternoon, and from the third-floor room he had a clear view of Provincetown curling out to sea, like a protective arm around the bay. He remembered the stories his father had told him about the walks he’d taken along the shore with Sawyer’s great-grandfather and the bike paths they’d ridden on, and how they would always return to the skycap and drink iced tea as they admired the distance they’d gone. Sawyer had taken numerous walks with his father before they’d sold the house. As he looked out over the land his family had called their own for so many generations, he thought about one day taking those walks with his own son or daughter. He chewed on that thought for a few minutes, having never gone there before. It had always been just Sawyer, and then his thoughts had become about him and caring for his father, and in turn, caring for his mother’s emotional well-being, too.
Now there was Sky.
Now there was us.
He glanced back at the pillows on the floor where he and Sky had first made love in the room his great-grandfather built, and he realized that she was the first and only woman he’d ever made love to in that house. He glanced up at the rafters, smiling as his parents’ initials came into view, and when he crossed the floor and found his grandparents’ initials, a whole new warmth filled him. He wanted that permanence. He wanted to look back thirty years from now and see his and Sky’s initials and remember the very first time they made love.
He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and read a text from Sky he must have missed earlier. Can’t wait until tonight!
They still hadn’t said the three sacred words that felt like they’d been kept behind bars since the night at the pool, when he’d heard her admit that she thought she loved him. He was waiting for the right moment to tell Sky how he felt.
He typed in a response. Every second we’re apart feels like a lifetime. Having 48 hours together will feel like an eternity. One I never want to end. Xox. He sent it off, then sank down to the pillows on the floor, thinking about the text he’d just sent.
A lifetime with Sky was exactly what he wanted, but that wasn’t the only thought heavy on his mind as he sat in the skycap of his family home thinking about
the future. The completion of the ramp loosened all the things he’d been keeping tied down in the back of his mind. How many years did his father have ahead of him bound to a walker or a wheelchair, with slowed speech and tremors? Had his father ever imagined such a future for himself? When he was fighting in the war, praying every moment to make it out alive, did he ever dream that living out his years with this horrible disease would be his fate? Sawyer’s chest tightened with the painful thoughts.
What hopes and dreams had his parents made that they were missing out on? Sawyer had another few weeks until he could retire, and then he would have forever with Sky, or so he hoped. But hadn’t his parents counted on the same thing?
Words began to sail into his mind—moonlight, sunlight, cloudy days—shifting quickly from light to dark. Fissures of love. Struggle and stretch. He tried to ignore the persistence of them, but they kept coming, one after another. Bonds fraying, years ending. Like the night he met Sky, he knew these weren’t passing thoughts and there was a song in there somewhere. He grabbed a pen from the floor, and at a loss for paper, he scrawled the words on his forearm.
Silence. Pleas.
Strength. Forgiveness.
More. Always more.
Tenuous days. Harsh endings.
He sucked in air, swallowing past the tightness in his throat. He rose to his feet and paced the hardwood floor, fighting against the song he didn’t want to write. It was one thing to keep himself so focused on winning the fight that he separated his father’s illness from the truth of where it was headed. But now it was staring him in the face—and all the fighting in the world couldn’t shelter him from it. He let out a tortured groan as more words coursed through his mind.
Like the wind in the night, shifting, stealing, paving the way. There will come a day, come a day.
The pen fell from his hands.
Sawyer lifted his eyes to the window, thinking about history and family and all the things that mattered. Love and honor, trust and commitment. Those were things that could never be taken away, no matter how much of his father was stolen by the disease. Memories. His father would never have a chance to create the same kinds of memories with Sawyer’s children as Sawyer had of his grandfather, but that didn’t mean that Sawyer and his father couldn’t create other types of memories that could be carried forward and shared for generations to come.
With his hands fisting at his sides and his chest swelling with every inhalation, he pushed past the urge to ignore the future of his father’s disease and grasped at the now.
He pulled out his phone and called his parents.
“Hi, honey.” His mother answered on the second ring, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “I didn’t think I’d hear from you. Don’t you and Sky leave today?”
“Hi, Mom. Yeah, we’re leaving shortly. I wanted to check on you and Dad before we take off.” He hadn’t gotten down to see them this week, with the ramp renovations taking precedence, and even though he’d called twice, he felt a little guilty.
“We’re fine, honey. You go and enjoy your time off. Maybe when you come back you can bring Sky to meet us?”
The hope in her voice made him smile. “I will. I know she’d like that. She’s one of Dad’s biggest fans. Actually, I wanted to talk to him about something. Is he around?”
“He’s right here. Hold on.”
He heard his mother try to hand the phone to his father.
“Hold on, honey,” his mother said into the phone again. “I’m going to put you on speakerphone and hold it up so it’s easier for your father.”
“Okay,” Sawyer answered, hoping she couldn’t hear the tug of his heartstrings as loudly as he felt them.
“Son,” his father said in his slow drawl.
“Hi, Dad. Guess where I am?” The silence stretched so long that Sawyer wondered if his father had heard him. He was used to long stretches of silence, but this one felt interminable—he realized that it probably felt that way because he was bursting at the seams to get his thoughts out.
“The…gym?” his father finally answered.
“No, Dad. The skycap. The ramp is done. It’s beautiful, and I can’t wait to bring you up here to look out over the water. I was thinking about the times you brought me up here and told me about the walks you took with your father and grandfather.”
“Good…times.”
Sawyer smiled. “Yes, they were.” His throat swelled with the reality that one day these phone calls might be impossible, too. “Dad, I’m sitting here looking out over the bay, and I’m thinking about the future—and the past. I want to do something with you, Dad. Something of our own.”
“Anything…son.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes tightly shut against the tears that threatened. “Thank you, Dad.” His voice was so thick with emotion he didn’t recognize it. He cleared his throat to try to regain control of his emotions and said, “I want to write with you, Dad. I know you haven’t written in years, and I know you don’t want to write and that I’m not as good with words as you are. But, Dad, I want to bring our voices together in a poem, or a song, or both. Whatever you’re willing to do, I want to do this together. I want something that we can have forever, that I can share with my children, and…” He realized he was rambling and paused again to regain control. “Dad, it would mean the world to me if you would consider doing this with me. For me.”
His father was quiet for so long he wondered if he’d pissed him off. A full minute or two later he heard the speakerphone click off, and his mother’s emotional voice came on the line.
“Honey?”
“Mom, did I push him too hard? Is he upset with me?”
“No, honey. He’s just too overcome with emotion to talk.”
Sawyer closed his eyes against new tears vying for release.
“Sawyer?”
“Yes, Mom?”
She lowered her voice and said, “Thank you. Thank you so very much.”
Chapter Twenty
AS THE SUN kissed the horizon, the last of its warm peach rays rippling across the dark sea, Sky wrapped her arms around Sawyer’s waist and leaned her head on his chest. The brisk evening air whipped against her legs as they sailed toward Monomoy Island.
“Two whole days alone, Sawyer. No customers, no painting, no building ramps, no tattoo guns, no sparring.” They decided to anchor at Monomoy for the night so they wouldn’t have to worry about other boat traffic.
He tipped up her chin and the wind whipped her hair across her cheek. They both laughed as he pressed his lips to hers right through the whipping strands. “No flashing vibrators, no sneaking out to go chunky-dunking.”
“Who needs vibrators when I have you?” She zipped up her hoodie.
“Just what I wanted to hear.” He kissed her again, moaning a little in pleasure as he tugged her in closer. “I still can’t believe I have you all to myself for two days. Whatever will I do with you?”
She raised her brows in quick succession. “Considering that nothing is going to come between me and my man, I’d say anything you want.” Sky liked the way my man felt as it slid from her tongue. He was the man she thought about when she woke up in the morning and the man she fantasized about when they were apart. He was the man who had shared her bed every night for days on end and the only man she hoped to wake up to from that day forward.
Sawyer’s eyes warmed. “I like the sound of that.”
She watched him steer the boat closer to the island. His movements were graceful and determined at once, swift and virile. His biceps flexed deliciously as he set the anchor and brought down the sails. The boat rocked with the current, a gentle, comforting motion that produced soothing sounds of water slapping against the sides of the boat as the rim of the sun dipped beneath the horizon, giving way to the hazy glow of night.
“I always forget how dark it gets at sea,” Sky said as her eyes adjusted.
“Not to worry, sweetheart. The moonlight will be enough.” He
sat on the cushioned bench and pulled Sky down onto his lap. As he tucked her hair behind her ear, his eyes rolled over her face with a tender gaze.
“I can’t believe you’re really going to write with your dad. I’m so excited to see what my favorite poet and my favorite person come up with.”
“Your favorite person?” A serious look hovered in his eyes.
“Yes, of course.” She pressed her lips to his, and he smiled. “I thought you didn’t want to do anything more with your songs than use them as a hobby and that your father was done writing. What changed your mind? What changed his?”
“Sky, I haven’t slowed down much over the years to think about anything other than fighting. My life has been a circle of train, fight, win.” He paused and brushed his thumb over her cheek. “And then came you.”
“Did I throw you off your game?”
He laughed under his breath. “That’s one of the things I love about you. You have so much going on, between your shop renovations, your apartment, the grand opening, and still you worry about if you threw me off my game. No, Sky, you showed me that I was playing the wrong game. You opened my eyes.”
Sky’s heartbeat quickened.
“When I was at the house this afternoon, everything sort of hit me at once. Seeing the ramp drove home my father’s fate, which further validated the need for me to win the title fight. But it also made me realize that while we’re busy making it through today and planning for tomorrow, some higher power, or whatever, could already be planning its own actions, which negate ours.”
“You lost me. What do you mean?”
“What I mean is that I don’t want to live my whole life hoping for a day when life will slow down enough, or the time feels right enough, to move forward and start my life. I love you, Sky, and I don’t want to wait another second to tell you. I don’t care that it’s fast. I’ve felt connected to you from the moment I saw you across the room. I love being with you, talking with you, making love with you. I don’t want to miss out on a single second with you, Sky. I don’t want to do what my dad did and work his whole life looking forward to retirement when he and my mom could have more time together—and then have something go wrong.”