By some magic, Devlin produced a box, one about the size of paperback novel. He handed it to her as she gaped. “I already did,” he said. “So open it.”
Her fingers fumbled off the pretty pink bow and undid the silver paper with great care. Gracie opened it and then hit him with one fist. She’d revealed another wrapped box, this one much smaller. “Devlin,” she said. “What is it?”
Deep within, her heartbeat increased and skipped a few beats. A delicious anticipation shivered up her spine, but Gracie tried to ignore it. It might be earrings, a necklace, a brooch, anything. Maybe a watch, even. Jewelry did not have to mean…
“Open it and see.”
Somewhere between her lungs and nose, her breath caught and held. “Devlin, I’m scared,” she said.
“Don’t ever be afraid. Just open it.”
Gracie undid the wrappings and revealed a box. Her fingers trembled as she opened it and exposed an engagement ring. The bright gold band supported a sparkling center diamond flanked by two smaller stones on each side. Tears filled her eyes as she gazed up at Devlin.
“Look inside the band,” he said, his voice gentle as a whisper.
She peered inside and saw the inscription. “Semper fi,” she read. “Always faithful.”
Devlin nodded. “It’s the Marine’s motto, and I will be if you’ll wear my ring. Gracie, will you marry me?”
Almost from the first she’d fantasized of such a moment, longed for it and she wondered if it might be a dream. “Do you mean it?” she asked in a husky voice.
He grinned. “Yes, of course I do, you silly woman, so tell me – will you marry me?”
“Oh, Devlin, yes,” she cried. “Yes!”
His large hand guided the ring onto her finger and held it. Devlin lifted her hand so the diamond caught the light and sparkled. “So now can we stay together at your parents?”
Joy brought laughter, but Gracie shook her head. “I imagine they’d want us to be married.”
“I don’t believe in long engagements,” Devlin said. “I thought we’d get the license and get married, tomorrow if we can.”
Gracie tilted her head. Like most little girls she’d dreamed of weddings. She daydreamed over bridal gowns in the catalogs, cut out bride paper dolls, and received a bride Barbie when she was seven. As a teenager, she planned her colors and changed them four times. She’d long imagined coming down the front steps into the front room at the farm to be married or holding a small ceremony at the country church her parents attended. Gazing into Devlin’s deep, dark eyes, however, she realized none of those things mattered. The wedding didn’t mean a thing – the marriage was what did.
“I’d love it,” she said. “Let’s get married tomorrow. We’ll have time for a short honeymoon before Christmas.”
They recited their vows at the Greene County Courthouse with her sister Faith and his cousin Lauren as witness the next afternoon. Gracie reflected as she recited the traditional vows, they’d experienced most of them already – better and worse, in sickness and in health. Having family on hand made the day for her. Even on such short notice, Faith jumped at the chance to participate and drove over, stopping to pick up their parents. Gracie’s mom brought a small homemade wedding cake and they all headed to the apartment to share it along with some ice cream. No one asked if she’d been living here already and after the family left with promises of Christmas looming large, Devlin packed the bike’s saddlebags and they left.
Devlin wouldn’t tell her where, but they rolled into Branson and up to one of the larger hotels. Their spacious room boasted a beautiful fireplace, and Devlin built a fire in it with skill.
He shifted the furniture so they could lay naked in a nest of blankets and pillows before it, something Gracie had always dreamed about. As they cocooned together, she traced her fingers over his scars and he watched, a bemused expression on his face. “It’s funny,” she said, secure in the knowledge she could say anything to Dev. “You’ve been burned badly and you’ve got the scars to show for it, but you’re not afraid of fire. Most people would be.”
Devlin caressed her body from shoulders to toes, his fingers light and soft. “Maybe, maybe not. A tame fire like this is a lot different than a roadside bomb explosion in the middle of the desert. You know, babe, for a long time all I saw were the scars. You changed that, the night you touched all of them without revulsion. Until then I figured I was as ugly as homemade sin.”
“And you thought you were as mean as the devil.”
“No,” he corrected. “I figured I was him, old Scratch in the flesh. I did a lot of awful things, babe, and the little girl’s just one of them. I haven’t told you all of them and I won’t.”
“You can, Devlin, anytime,” she said in an effort to reassure him.
He put a finger across her lips. “Hush,” he said, “I won’t unless I need to sometime. In the last few months, I finally figured out I did what I had to – just like I did Thanksgiving night. I did what was expected of me and what I thought was my duty, right or wrong. But none of it makes me wicked. I may freak out sometimes when something triggers the bad memories or my PTSD, but I can deal. I’ll carry these scars for the rest of my life, the outside ones and the ones inside. But they don’t have to define me, Gracie.”
“What does?”
A long pause stretched out, comfortable and easy. No sound but the crackle of the flames, tame fire he’d called it, could be heard. “You,” Devlin said. “You and me, together.”
Devlin shifted position so Gracie could curl up against his chest. She sighed, contented and listened to his heartbeat. “I never knew,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“I never knew I could be this close to anyone, not until I met you. I wanted it, almost from the first night. Something about you drew me, Dev.”
He chuckled. “I told you I dreamed of you, made you up and thought about you all the time. I never thought I’d meet you. When I saw you at the class, I couldn’t believe it. You know why I really took the watercolor class?”
“Uh-uh.”
“I’d been thinking about killing myself.” Devlin uttered the simple sentence without emotion and with casual truth. “Happens to a lot of Iraqi vets, I hear. We give up, think there’s nothing left to live for and too much baggage. I took the damn class to give me something to do, a last effort to be part of life. If I hadn’t met you…”
Gracie covered his mouth with her hand. “Don’t say it. You did and so it doesn’t matter now.”
“Listen,” he said, his eyes intent on her face. “I want to tell you one more thing. There was one song I wanted at my funeral, one hymn I’ve always loved above any other. Amazing Grace. So when you told me your name, it clicked. And I started to hope.”
The words of the song resonated in Gracie’s heart, the familiar lyrics singing through her mind. “My parents named me because of that song,” she said.
“Did they?” Devlin said with wonder. “Well, it’s Grace who brought me safe this far and Grace who led me home.”
Something deep within her soul shattered with joy. A boundless happiness rose inside and Gracie bent close to him. “Then bring your Gracie home,” she said.
Devlin’s eyes reflected firelight and an inner peace, enough bliss and delight to last a lifetime.
“I’d love to,” he said and did.
His mouth came down onto hers with possession and yet with giving. If she belonged to him, then he was hers and hers alone. As sweet and intoxicating as a fine wine, Devlin enjoyed his bride, and Gracie’s mouth responded with potent heat. If he offered wine, she distilled into whiskey. Greedy, she kissed him back and they clung to one another.
Gracie trailed her fingers over his body, first light and delicate like a feather’s passing and then with possessive ownership, fierce and needy. She kissed his scars, one by one. Sweet chills rippled down her back and she thought Devlin must feel something similar from the way he shivered. She managed to touch and caress every
inch of him.
In response, he fondled her, hands moving with caring and tempered with passion. His fingers caressed her breasts and coaxed her nipples to bloom, then eased down to touch her inner folds until she whimpered with delight.
The two tasted, they bit, they licked, and they kissed without restraint or rush. His tongue pleasured Gracie from her mouth to her cunt and she gloried in it. As he did her, Gracie fondled his cock, rubbed the shaft between her hands with friction meant to please. Then she grasped it tight in one fist and agitated it, bringing it harder. He toyed with her and she teased, tempted him until finally they connected. His cock plunged into the willing, waiting warmth of her pussy, and Gracie tightened so the inner walls rubbed him to enhance the experience.
When they came, they rode the wild rush of delight, the flood of sensation together and then curled two bodies into one. The last thing she remembered on her wedding night was Devlin drawing a cover over her and then she coiled against him, tucked into him where she belonged.
He’d brought her home.
The End
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Other Books by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy:
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Devlin's Grace Page 13