He’d gotten lost somewhere with his lips making tiny little kisses down her spine. The sensation was dizzying and if he didn’t carry her to the bed, she might faint before making it.
He growled in response to his name while one hand skated down the edge of her long hair and swept it all out of the way, over her shoulder. Goose bumps spread across her arms.
“What if . . .”
He must have registered the concern in her voice because he stopped and angled his body so he could look at her face.
“What if . . .” She cast her gaze to the floor. It was marble, solid. “What if I disappoint you?”
He took her face in his hands. “That’s not possible, Gray. This—” and he motioned between them as he said it, “—is just part of who we are. Together. Almost thirteen years ago a young girl rocked my world. That was you. I didn’t even know how important you were and still you changed everything for me that night. The real question is, what if I disappoint you?”
“Are you kidding me?” She laughed. “I’ve waited my whole life for this.”
“Well, let’s not keep you waiting any longer.”
Her arms loosened against her ribs and her eyes drifted shut. His mouth, his lips, they were lethal and she couldn’t wait to feel just how many ways he could destroy her, revive her, destroy her again. “You’re right. We’ve waited long enough.”
He bent and placed a delicate kiss on her ribs. She’d never realized that part of her flesh was so sensitive. “You have a promise to make good on.”
“And I intend to,” she purred.
He circled her, placing kisses here and there as he went along, discovering a new taste and a new texture at each spot. Standing behind her, his lips and mouth trailed over her back. She tried to breathe but was lost and floating down the river that was Miah. He lifted her until she was in his arms. He’d carried her across the threshold the same way.
Gray let her hands roam over his chest. “I love you, Jeremiah McKinley.”
“I love you, too, Mary Grace McKinley.” And with the gentleness of a dove, he deposited her on the king-size bed, where she fulfilled every promise she’d ever made him.
Two hours later and just as the moon began to peek into the bedroom of the honeymoon suite, Gray drifted off to sleep. She woke at the nudge of Miah’s ribs against her. His fingers trailed her arm and if bliss were water, she was drowning in the largest ocean on the planet. She looked up at him. “You happy?”
He chuckled. “Only you would ask something like that at a time like this.”
She scrunched her face and leaned up on one elbow. Her hair fell in waves around them.
Miah captured some of it in his hands. “Am I happy? I just had the most incredible experience with the most incredible woman in the world.”
She smiled, but he’d grown serious. “I’m not kidding, Gray. That night, all those years ago, I said you’d possessed me. Nothing since then had ever even come close. But now, I’m living that moment, that . . . magic all over again. And I can’t believe I’m going to live it for the rest of my life.”
Magic. Her? No. She was just Gray and he was just Miah. But together, they were more. They’d created David. They’d weathered almost losing him. And their future held promise. Because they loved each other beyond measure, and what on this planet could compare to that? As the night settled in, lengthening the shadows around their bed, Gray lay in his arms counting the stars through the window. Just beyond the moon, the Eye of God kept watch over them.
Miah and David walked to the water, as was their weekend habit. They’d been doing that for three months now. Each Saturday morning, they’d go to the lakeside, Miah would start a fire and there, they’d each write a note to the fathers they’d lost. Miah stoked up the blaze. “Did you tell your dad about the fishing competition?” It was a father/son tournament and they’d taken third place.
“No.”
David’s demeanor was different today. Miah wondered if something had happened at school. They went on, writing in silence, and when Miah was finished, he tossed the sheet onto the burning logs. David seemed to be struggling a little and Miah wished he knew what it was about, but he wouldn’t press.
David brushed his hair from his brow. “Okay, I’m done.”
Miah waited for him to silently reread it, then fold it and toss it onto the flame. When David didn’t move, he asked, “You want me to give you a few minutes? I can wait for you up at the house.”
David’s face contorted; he gripped the paper so tightly it wrinkled in his hand. “No. I just . . . I . . .” His lips pressed together in a straight line and he held the paper out to Miah.
He took it, uncertain if David wanted him to wait or lay it on the fire now.
“It’s to you.”
Miah’s fingers tightened on the single page. He lifted it slowly.
Dear Dad,
There are a lot of things I want to say, but most of all, I want to tell you thanks for finding me. I know I didn’t make it easy at first, but you made me want to try harder. Since I’ve been here, I’ve gotten to do lots of things and found out some things I really like. Plus, you make great hot cocoa and Gray loves you.
I guess what I’m trying to say, Miah, is that I think it’s time I start calling you by your real name. Dad. I hope that’s okay with you. I already told Bill I was going to do that in a letter in my room. I think he’d like that. I used to think that if I called you Dad, it would be like erasing him. But now I know it’s not. You were my dad first. Then Bill. Now you again. I guess I’m lucky that way to have had two great dads.
Anyway, I guess that’s all I wanted to say.
I love you, Dad.
Your son,
David
Miah fought to keep the tears at bay but knew it was a battle already lost. There was no voice with his words when he said, “Can I keep this one?”
David nodded.
Miah carefully folded the paper and placed it in his pocket. David watched him closely, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Is it okay?”
Miah grabbed him by the shoulders. “It’s better than okay, David. You just made me the happiest man on earth.”
David released a sigh. “Okay. Good.” He landed in his father’s arms for a bone-crushing hug. “Hey, Dad?”
Miah kept hold; fact was, he was never letting go. “Yes?”
“Can’t breathe.”
“Sorry.” But he would need to loosen his grip now and then.
David nodded up the hill behind them. “We gotta get back. Mom is cooking and now there’s black smoke rolling out of the kitchen window.”
Miah laughed and turned to see his wife waving a kitchen towel and directing the smoke.
David stopped halfway to the house. “Can we go fishing later, Dad?” He was sampling the new title for Miah, trying it out, seeing how he liked it.
“Yes. But you’ve got to let me in on your secret to catching those large catfish.”
David’s mouth twisted in mock concentration. “I’ll think about it.”
Miah threw an arm around his shoulder. “I can live with that.” If dreams were pebbles, he had enough to fill a swimming pool. If love were magic, he could put Houdini to shame. And if life were promises, he’d live to be a ripe old age with the woman he loved and the child they’d created when they were merely kids themselves. He’d once told his dad in a letter that he hoped to be a good father someday. Someday had come in an instant, and though Miah wasn’t perfect, he was determined. For the rest of his life, he’d make good on the promises he should have made over a decade ago.
He could do it. He could be a good soldier, a good man, and a good father.
After all, the Eye of God was watching over him.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A special thank-you to Angela Whitener, supervisory coordinator and administrato
r at James A. Haley Veterans’ Hospital in Tampa for her information on Traumatic Brain Injuries.
A giant thanks to my dear friend Julie Palella, a law professional who wrote a Child Protective Plan for my character, David Olson. The information in it was invaluable.
A heartfelt thanks to my editor, Charlotte Herscher, who helped make this story what it is now.
Thanks to my supportive family, who never let me go hungry or without coffee during the long hours of writing and edits.
Ellis Jones, web designer extraordinaire, thank you so much for building my new website. It’s incredible, and I will likely be your biggest cheerleader for a very long time!
My deepest gratitude goes to the Johns Creek Veterans Association and the Johns Creek Memorial Walk near Atlanta. I was so honored to have my words become a small part of the memorial for our US veterans. May America never forget what our troops have paid and the hefty price they continue to pay for our freedom. God bless you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2014 Melinda Hanks
Heather Burch writes full time and lives in Florida. Her debut novel was released in 2012 and garnered praise from USA Today, Booklist magazine, Romantic Times, and Publishers Weekly. Her epic love story, One Lavender Ribbon, was an international bestseller and one of the top 100 books on Amazon Kindle in 2014. Down the Hidden Path is the follow-up novel to Along the Broken Road, the first book in The Roads to River Rock series. Living in a house where she’s the only female, Heather is intrigued by the relationships that form among men, especially soldiers. Her heartbeat is to tell unforgettable stories of love and war, commitment and loss . . . stories that make your heart sigh. Please visit heatherburchbooks.com for more about Heather. She loves to hear from readers!
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