by Natasha Boyd
“It’s a loss I wouldn’t be able to bear, Gracie. I don’t want all the other things without you .”
“Beau,” I started, tears pricking my eyes .
“Shh,” he said. “Let me finish. I can’t believe I thought it all so important .”
“It is important,” I argued and tried to pull away so I could look at him .
After a moment’s hesitation, he let me .
I reached out and touched his cheek. His eyes flickered as I did it, like my touch affected him. “You were put in an impossible situation,” I added, thinking of what his grandmother did .
“No. I made it that way. It doesn’t matter if I start right away or wait and start in a year or two. I made it important. No one else. And I was wrong .”
“What are you saying ?”
“That the price is too high, if the price is you .”
I licked my lips, unsure where he was going with this. He was telling me something or asking me something important, but I couldn’t hear it .
“I want to make love to you, Gracie .”
My breath caught mid-inhale .
“I want to love you .”
His fingers reached out and smoothed across my airline, and around the shell of my ear, and on down the side of my neck to ring along the collar of my t-shirt. I couldn’t draw a full breath .
“I tried to call off the wedding,” he said .
“What?” I gasped .
“I don’t know if I did it in time. God, I hope I did. But I know you’d never let me love you again. And the thought of that was too much .”
“You gave up the chance to take over from my dad, to build your dream business, so you could … m—make love to me again?” I shook my head. God, didn’t he get it? Didn’t he get how much I was sacrificing for him to get what he wanted. “Idiot, idiot!” I slapped his chest, and the tears that pricked my eyes earlier, burst down my cheeks. “You need to follow your dream. I need you to follow your dream. You following your dream makes me happy! What was this all for?” I sobbed .
“My dream is you .”
“What?”
“Gracie. My dream is you .” He grabbed my hand that had hit his chest and pressed my palm against the same spot .
His eyes burned into me. “My dream is you. My dream has been you since I was sixteen years old. I’ve denied it, I’ve hidden it, I’ve ignored it, I’ve pretended it’s something else. I can’t anymore, Gracie. Now that I realize it, I can’t keep it inside. I’ve loved you gently, fiercely, painfully, with friendship, and with passion. But I’ve loved you. I love you. I know you may not feel the same way, but marrying someone else is impossible. You have to see that. I’d rather never have anything than not have you .”
I tried desperately to keep up with all the magical things he was saying. I wanted to tell him to slow down. That I loved him too. But then he might stop talking and the things he was saying … God, I wanted to hear them again. And again. For the rest of my life .
“You have to see there’s no way I could marry anyone else now. Now that I know what I’ve been hiding from. I thought I wouldn’t, shouldn’t tell you how I felt. But I can’t keep it inside me.” He wiped my tears from my face. “Please don’t cry. I’ll always be there for you. No matter what. And if you can’t find someone to have children with, let it be me. Please. You’ll be an amazing mother, and you need to be a mother. Even if you adopt one day. I’ll help you if you need me to. I’ll marry you and I’ll love you enough for both of us. And I’ll be the best father I can be to our kids .”
I couldn’t breathe. The sobs wracking my chest precluded me from even putting him out of his misery to let him know I felt the same way. I couldn’t kiss him because I’d quite literally suffocate since my nose was now completely blocked .
I nodded. The love of my life just gave me the most beautiful declaration of love I’d ever experienced, and I nodded. Then I shook my head. Then nodded again. Shit. I really couldn’t breathe .
29
Gwen
L ike, I want to know what you’re saying right now,” Beau said as I struggled to talk and breathe. “But I’m afraid to guess .”
I banged on my chest and pointed at him .
“You need the Heimlich?” he tried to guess .
I shook my head, inside I burst out laughing, but outwardly I was still a snotty convulsing mess .
“You want to blow your nose on my shirt?” he tried .
Then before I could answer, he reached behind his head and pulled his shirt off, offering it to me .
I grabbed it and pressed it against my face. It didn’t help with getting more air, but it smelled of him, and hid whatever ghastly snot-isode was going on during the most important moment of my entire life .
Actually, it did help me calm down .
It also helped calm me when Beau wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against him, holding me while I ruined his t-shirt .
“I love you,” I was finally able to say .
“Olive juice ?”
“I love you .”
“Elephant shoes ?”
“I love you!” I leaned back and screamed up to the stars, laughing .
He was quiet, staring at me when I looked back at him .
“I do, Beau. I’m in love with you. That’s why I couldn’t marry you. It would have killed me to be some inconvenient wife you’d had to marry.” I sniffed. Gross snot, but I persevered so he could understand. “I said no because you made it clear you weren’t interested in a real marriage. You said you didn’t want to sleep with me. You even said we could see other people. It would have killed me. I had to save myself. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done to turn you down, and then tell you I’d help you find someone else. But I wanted you to have your dream. I wanted you to be happy .”
“Gracie …” His voice broke and my name came out as a whisper. An awe-filled whisper. “You love me ?”
I nodded. “So much. For so long .”
Now it was Beau’s turn to get choked up. He blinked. Then blinked again and shook his head. Then his forehead sank down to my shoulder, his back hunched over as he held me .
I threaded my fingers through his soft hair and kissed his temple .
He turned his face into my neck and breathed against my skin. “I’m sorry I said all those things to you. I’m so sorry I fucked it all up .”
“Shhh. It’s okay,” I soothed. My fingernails gently raked his scalp and he shivered .
“Gracie.” His hands were warm as they roamed my back and then slipped under my shirt .
His mouth skated over my skin, against my ear, then down to my collar bone, driving me crazy and setting my nerve endings on fire .
Hot hands skated up my spine, and I knew he noted my bra was absent .
I was consumed by the feel of this beautiful man who loved me. This man who knew everything about me, including all my snot, yet loved me anyway. It was overwhelming .
“Make love to me. Please,” I begged .
I’d heard beach sex was a bad idea. Sand in weird places and all that. But we’d been standing, not rolling around. Besides, I needed him too badly. I needed him to feel pleasure like I was feeling. To feel my love for him .
I sank to my knees .
“Gracie,” he choked as I pulled down the waist of his shorts .
“Wow,” I said with a laugh. “Almost knocked me out.” He was thick and ready .
I looked up, he was looking down at me, eyes half-lidded. Like he was half given over to the prospect of me giving him pleasure and half about to just put me on my back and take control. I looked down and saw a small bead of moisture. Reaching out, I slipped my finger over the tip of him and brought it to my tongue to taste .
He growled. “Holy shit,” he rasped and leaned down to take my mouth with his. His tongue thrust inside as if trying to take back what I’d stolen .
Then in seconds he was sitting in the sand and he was pulling my shorts down my legs. I stood so
he could pull them off and then he yanked me to his mouth. “No, Beau. I wanted to—” his tongue flicked between my folds, then flattened out and sucked me into him. It was hard and needy. His fingers gripped the cheek of my ass, and he flipped my knee over his shoulder opening me to him .
I almost lost my balance and had to hold his shoulder and grip his hair. He was out of his mind with need, like he wanted to consume me. I didn’t even have a chance to get lost in my own head. He was relentless and demanding, and all I could hear were the echoes of him telling me how much he loved me. And all the ways he loved me and for how long, and then he was pulling me down astride him .
“Gracie,” he said reverently right before he pulled me down onto him. He was hard and unyielding as he drove up into me. “Gracie, Gracie, Gracie .”
I held his head to my chest, kissing hair, his forehead. The feel of him inside me, filling me. Knowing how much I loved him, there was nothing like this. I could never have guessed what it felt like to truly make love. I wanted to feel every second, every slide, every inch .
He slowed, tilting his head up to me like he knew what was in my head. His eyes roamed my face .
I kissed his cheeks and his eyelids .
He gathered me close, his hands roaming down my back, up my sides, and then he was leaning me back and flicking his tongue over my nipple. “Good. That’s good.” I gasped. His teeth scraped gently and I shuddered. He switched sides, sucking softly but firmly. It was as if I felt it between my legs. I arched for more and he gave it .
My hips were moving, sliding back and forth languidly. His fingers dug into my hips and he forced me down harder, held me so he could thrust harder. I gasped .
“Touch yourself,” he whispered. “Please .”
I slipped a hand between us, two fingers sliding over my damp and swollen flesh, trying to find the perfect spot .
Down my back I felt his hands roam, over my butt, between the crease. I shuddered .
His breathing grated. “Gracie.” He looked up at me. “Can I touch you there ?”
My skin grew tight. Too tight for my body. I nodded, nervous. Goosebumps broke out in ripples across me .
I looked into his eyes and he watched me unflinchingly. My rhythmic finger work, the feeling of him deep inside me filling me up, and the slide of his fingers behind me, it all coalesced .
In seconds, too soon, I was drawn tight, cinched into exquisite agony and then flung and spun apart .
My eyes closed, even when I tried to keep them open, and a cry tore from inside me .
“Oh God,” Beau growled and then he was holding me tight, bracing me against the force of his thrust .
Then his head was buried against me, his body shaking. I held him still as he rode it out, still riding the pleasure myself. I pressed kisses to his head, his hair, his face when he lifted it .
“I love you, Beau .”
“I love you, too. Gracie.” He blinked up at me slowly. “Whatever happens, I want you to know, I want forever with you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen .”
* * *
We fell asleep on a spread open sleeping bag inside the small tent, wrapped around each other, Eileen curled at our feet like a furnace .
I hadn’t forgotten what Beau had said about being unsure if he stopped the wedding in time. I couldn’t help but feel terrible for Marjorie Smith and her brother. She’d been so close to a solution, and if she’d filed paperwork with her superiors and then pulled it and then did it again with someone new, Beau could have really messed everything up for her .
I made a decision then and there to follow up with her and see if I could help her .
I awoke with the first bird chirp in the morning. Leaning up on my elbow, I looked at Beau’s sleeping profile, his features relaxed, his eyelashes resting against his cheekbones, looking all sexy and shit. He had light stubble across his jaw that made my fingers itch to reach out and feel. His brown hair was mussed and curled, reminding me how much time my hands spent in it—raking, clutching, grabbing and smoothing. His bare chest rose and fell, and I resisted the urge to lay my cheek against it to feel his skin and hear his heart .
Eileen was still curled up. She opened an eye then pretended to still be sleeping. She was not a morning person. From the pale light I could see filtering across the tent, I figured sunrise was moments away .
Sunrise!
I nudged a sleeping Beau .
He was snoring lightly, and in his sleep he rolled toward me. Feeling someone next to him seemed to slightly rouse him, and he immediately hauled me against him, caging me with his arm. He let out a long contented and rumbling sigh .
I decided to be more proactive about his consciousness and, slipping from his arm, rained kisses down his torso until I reached my goal .
Ten minutes later, a satisfied Beau was sitting next to me on the beach, smirking with pride. The air was already humid. We ate a granola bar each and sipped cool beer for breakfast .
Eileen hobbled down to join us .
The sun pierced the clouds and climbed slowly out of the water, casting shards of light toward us .
When I’d looked my fill, I turned to find Beau staring at me. “I can’t believe I almost lost us,” he said. “Can you forgive me for being so blind ?”
I took his hand, and our fingers threaded together. “Of course,” I told him. “You are my greatest adventure . ”
He grinned. “Thanks, Mrs. Incredible .”
“Um, that’s Elastagirl to you .”
And then another idea began to take shape, and the more I thought about it, the more excited I became. I tried to school my expression .
I had some calls to make, emails to write, and texts to send .
But first we had to go clean up and deliver a boat, and then get back to Charleston .
30
Beau
N ot knowing if I’m a married man or not has to be up there with one of my life’s most peculiar moments .
As soon as we make it back to Fripp Marina, I check my phone. The service is still for shit, so I have no high hopes I’ll get my emails, but there are no texts either. The man who bought the last ever Rhys Thomas boat is nice enough. I can tell he’s a bit miffed Rhys didn’t deliver it himself. But I show his two young boys all the features—the rod holders that were custom made, the USB ports, the slide out laptop desk, the speakers, the removable liners of the two coolers, and eventually he forgets to be upset .
I give him my number in case he needs anything refinished or fixed, and then I meet Gracie back on the Monty. She elected to wait for me there, citing some urgent need to get online, though I’m sure she had as much luck as I did earlier. We set out by ten a.m. and retrace our route from yesterday. It’s calmer today, even though I know there’s more weather scheduled for later. It looks like it blew to the north though. As we pass Kiawah, my phone pings with several incoming texts and emails .
My insides whoosh with nerves. Gracie whips to look at my phone, then our eyes meet .
“Hey, listen,” she says. “Before you check anything. There’s something you should know. I went by my dad’s place last week — ”
“When you said you broke into his house instead of going on a date?” I joke .
Her nose scrunches, but she doesn’t smile .
“Okay, what ?”
“You know how last night, I said I didn’t blame you for getting into this marriage thing because you were put in an impossible position ?”
“Yes?” I draw out the response, not sure where this is going .
“Well, it was done on purpose .”
“What do you mean?” My eyes narrow .
She licks her lips, her green us looking pained. Her fingers come up and squeeze my hand .
“Gracie.”
“Look, I can’t stand to hurt you. But by telling you this, it’s impossible not to. You need to know because it’s going to come up, and I know about it. And I don’t want you to think I knew and didn’t tel
l you. But I did know. I found out. So I know. And now I’m telling you.” Her run on sentences cause her to run out of breath. But by the concern she’s demonstrating, I know I’m really not going to like what she has to say. “You need to know,” she reiterates .
“Gracie, please tell me. I can cope with anything as long as it’s not anything to do with you not loving me .”
“I love you,” she says. “Always. Here goes. Your grandmother was the one who bought my dad’s building. Who forced him to close within one month or the deal expired .”
That was not what I was expecting .
“She offered him a stupid, stupid amount of money. He couldn’t say no. He really couldn’t .”
“Why—” I swallow heavily. “Why would she do that ?”
My thoughts careen. “When?” I croak .
“Right after your grandfather died. Before the funeral .”
“Do you think she knew what was in the will ?”
“Yes, I do.” She nods. “Maybe not specifics. I think she thought you were about to inherit and would buy into Rhys Thomas, and she moved quickly to take that option off the table .”
The pain in Gracie’s eyes takes my breath. Her pain is for me, which is truly humbling .
I’m shocked at this assessment too, of course. I shake my head. “There’s no way. She wouldn’t do that .”
“Beau—”
“No,” I snap, and Gracie recoils. “Shit. I’m sorry.” I grab her hand as she removes it from me. “I just mean I’ve spent time with her recently, and I don’t think she did this.” She can’t have. The way she spoke with me about wanting me to follow my dreams. It makes no sense. I tear my gaze away from my best friend and stare out at the blue horizon while I replay the conversation in the kitchen less than two weeks ago .
“Well, I’ve spent time with her too.” My gaze snaps to hers, and she nods. “I went to see her the same night I found the paperwork. To confront her. You can ask Trystan, he was there, I — ”
“What did she say ?”