Beautiful Sacrifice

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Beautiful Sacrifice Page 16

by Jamie McGuire


  Abby pointed at him. "You'd better not have brought her here just to make her cry, Taylor Dean!"

  "I didn't!"

  "What did you say?" Abby demanded.

  "That I love her! Kind of." He paused and then turned to me.

  My breath caught. "You ... what? I'm pretty sure you didn't say anything close to that."

  "Well, that's what I've been trying to say for a while," Taylor grumbled.

  Abby's mouth fell open, and then she smiled.

  Taylor ignored our audience and took a few steps until he was just inches away from me. He scanned my face with such adoration in his eyes that I began to tear up again.

  "Don't cry," he said.

  "Pussy," Travis said, hooking his arm around his wife.

  Taylor took an offensive step toward his taller, younger brother, and Travis leaped back with an amused smile. I stood and gripped Taylor's T-shirt, holding him back. He didn't put up much of a fight.

  Abby rolled her eyes. "Just let me know if you need back-up, Falyn. I will kick his ass from here to Sunday."

  "Aw, c'mon, Abby," Taylor said. "I just told the girl I love her, and you're makin' me sound like a bag full of dicks."

  "You are a bag full of dicks," Abby said. "Stop making her cry."

  Taylor's mouth fell open, and then he slammed the door in their faces.

  I wiped my eyes and sat on the end of the bed. "Was that for them?"

  "Was what for them?"

  "The whole I-love-you thing. Does that have something to do with you bringing a girl home you're not fucking?"

  Taylor's shoulders sagged, and he knelt in front of me. "Jesus, Falyn, no."

  "So ... you love me," I said in disbelief.

  "You're goddamn right I do," he said without hesitation. "I said, after this trip, we wouldn't be friends anymore." He noticed my expression. "What?"

  "That's unfortunate for you."

  "That's all you have to say?" he said, wounded.

  "I'm a mess, Taylor. Inevitably--"

  "You, Falyn, are fucking amazing. I've never been so proud to know someone in my life. And that's saying something. I have a lot of decorated heroes for friends. You were right about how this happened. We were supposed to meet. Just like we did. It can't all be a weird coincidence." His eyes met mine. "I know what you're thinking, but I'm not going to leave you, Falyn. And I'm not going to let you leave me."

  "You don't know that."

  "You don't have to say it back, but it's too late for me."

  Holding back at that point--when Taylor was looking me in the eyes, confessing his feelings--was useless. But the very real fear of good-bye was just under the surface, waiting behind the hope of a happy ending. It had to be. Whether it was me who walked away or the ones I loved being ripped from my grasp, good-bye was nearly all I knew.

  "I'm afraid I'll lose you if I say it out loud," I said, hoping my voice was too soft for fate to hear.

  "So, you do," he said, surprised. "You love me."

  I nodded, wary of his reaction.

  He pulled me into his chest and hugged me tight, relieved. "I can't fucking believe it. I have never trusted in this kind of thing before, but it's hard to deny."

  "Love?" I asked.

  "Before I applied at Alpine, before Shane and Liza decided to adopt--is it crazy to say that this goes way back? That we go way back? Someone knew I'd need to hold your hand before I ever had one."

  "That's kind of poetic."

  "Roses are red," he began with a mischievous smile.

  "Stop," I warned.

  "Your eyes are green," he said, tackling me to the bed.

  I giggled, not trying very hard at all to push him off of me.

  "The most beautiful green I've ever seen."

  He stopped tickling me, and I relaxed, breathing hard beneath him.

  His smile vanished. "I love you," he said quietly.

  "That's a terrible poem. It doesn't even rhyme."

  "Yes, it does." He leaned down, touching his lips to mine.

  His fingers cupped my jawline, and my lips instantly parted, eager for the same rush that I'd felt when he kissed me on the plane. But this time was different. This time, we were alone.

  I gripped the bottom hem of his T-shirt and pulled upward. Taylor reached behind his neck and pulled it the rest of the way. I ran my fingers down his back, and he groaned. It had been years since I touched a man like this, and now that I was, my hands wanted to explore more of him. I reached down to the button of his jeans and unfastened it, the hardness behind his zipper begging to escape.

  His mouth left mine and trailed down my neck. His hands lifted my shirt to access the bare skin of my chest and stomach until he was at my waistline. He slipped one hand beneath me, his fingers finding their way to my bra. With his fingers, he unsnapped the clasp, and with the other hand, he released the button of my jeans.

  His confident, experienced movements only made me more excited for what would come next. Even though he was exploring my body for the first time, he knew exactly what to do and how to touch me. I had only had one lover, and this was so much better. Not only was the man above me in love with me--not just the idea of me--but by the look in his eyes, I knew he was about to make love to me, which would be something new to him, too.

  Taylor pinched my zipper and pulled it toward him, sliding his tongue beneath the fabric. I sighed, feeling my insides tightening, pleading for him. He kissed just behind the metal button as he lowered the zipper, and then he pulled my jeans over my hips. His lips baptized my skin in a line of tiny kisses until he reached my ankles, and then he threw the denim to the floor.

  Taylor took his time as he made his way back up, licking my inner thigh with the tip of his tongue. He enjoyed every stretch of my hips every time I writhed beneath him.

  The pace at which he undressed me was wonderfully agonizing. He pulled my shirt over my head, and then he slid my bra straps over my shoulders before tossing the white silky fabric to the floor.

  The mattress squeaked beneath us as he pushed up and away from me. He stood at the end of the bed, planning what he was going to do to me next, as he pushed his jeans to the floor and stepped out of them. He crawled back onto the bed, hovering above me.

  Taylor touched his forehead to mine and sighed.

  "What?" I whispered, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

  He lowered himself against me, the only fabric stopping him from entering me was his Calvin Klein briefs and my embarrassingly unsexy cotton panties.

  "You were crying fifteen minutes ago. I feel like I'm taking advantage. I'm okay if we just stay like this."

  I slowly reached down between us, sliding my fingers down the ripples of his abdomen and beneath the elastic waistband to grip his girth. A low moan hummed in his throat as I tightened my hold and slowly pulled, letting his skin roll over his shaft.

  "What if I say please?"

  His breath caught, and his mouth slammed into mine, a visceral end to his marginal willpower.

  My hands slid around to his backside and then down, his boxer briefs lowering with the movement. As soon as he was exposed, he pulled my panties to the side, touching his skin to mine.

  I braced myself, and then I gasped as he slowly rocked his hips forward, working himself inside me. My fingers dug into his back, the mattress creaking in a slow rhythm with each gentle thrust.

  Taylor bent down to taste my lips again, groaning in my mouth as he buried himself deep. I crossed my ankles behind him, letting him get closer, sink deeper.

  Somewhere on the lower level, his family's intermittent laughter floated up, reminding us both to be quiet. Each time I needed to cry out, Taylor would cover my mouth with his. I wasn't sure how much time had passed, only conscious of the build within me and the push and pull as my body begged equally for more and for release. Taylor provided both, over and over, for hours into the night until I was completely consumed.

  Every inch of me felt raw and relaxed as Taylor collapsed n
ext to me, panting and smiling.

  "Holy shit, woman. I thought I loved you before ..."

  I reached down until I found Taylor's fingers, letting them intertwine with mine. "As long as you love me after. Now, that would be something new."

  He turned onto his side, propping his head with his hand. "Those aren't words I just throw around. I've never said that to anyone besides family."

  "I've only said it to one person until now."

  He shook his head. "Just one?"

  I looked at the window, the glow from the streetlight outside pouring in. "Olive."

  "No one else?"

  "No," I said, looking back at him. I touched his cheek. "Just you."

  The thought seemed comforting to him, and he relaxed.

  My eyes closed, and while Taylor settled in beside me, I willingly let fatigue drag me down beneath the waves of unconsciousness. For the first time in a long time, I wasn't alone in the dark.

  Waking up in Thomas's old room in Jim's house, I worried that Taylor would wake up at any moment, and awkwardness would set in. The sun had been up about as long as I had, but Taylor was still asleep next to me, breathing slow and deep.

  Birds chirped outside, a perfect blue sky and a few electrical wires the only things visible through the window from where I lay on the bed. It was going to be one of the best days of my life. Whether Olive knew it or not, it was the day I would become a part of her memories, and I could carry that with me forever.

  "Baby?" Taylor said. Tightening the arm that had been relaxed across my middle, he pulled me closer to him.

  "Yes?" I said, taken off guard by the term of endearment. In my experience, those terms were only used when trying to keep up appearances.

  "I'm not sure I can ever wake up without you again." His voice was sleepy but content.

  I breathed out a laugh and nuzzled my nose against his neck. "You can."

  "I don't want to."

  "Estes Park is going to miss you."

  "I guess so." He covered my cheek in kisses. "So, what's the plan today? I don't want to be an accomplice to kidnapping before breakfast."

  I sighed. "I don't want her to know who I am or why I'm here. I just ... want to see her with my own eyes. This time, I'll be prepared, and I can savor the moment of when I leave a tiny footprint in her life even if I'll be the only one who knows."

  "I'll know."

  "I know it sounds selfish," I said, covering my eyes with my fingers.

  Taylor lifted my chin with one hand, uncovering my eyes with the other. "It's probably the least selfish thing I've ever heard in my life. Olive is next door, and all you want is to be introduced as a stranger, so you can hold on to that moment while she goes on with her life."

  I'd never thought of it that way. It sounded sad but honorable. Once again, the woman reflected in Taylor's eyes was someone worthy of forgiveness. No amount of gratitude could ever repay something like that.

  "You're just saying that because you have to," I teased.

  He smiled, but there was only sincerity in his eyes. "I'm saying it because it's true."

  When I didn't respond, he looked down. The sudden change in his mood was disconcerting.

  "What?" I asked.

  "I want to ask you something even though the answer doesn't matter."

  I waited.

  "Where's Olive's father? Her biological father?"

  I swallowed. "That's a long conversation."

  "But you didn't love him?"

  I shook my head. It was true. Even before I'd met Taylor, I knew appreciating the attention of an older man--a man who was supposed to be an authoritative figure--was not the same as love.

  "Did he ... did he hurt you?" Taylor asked.

  I shook my head again. "How important is it for you to know?"

  Taylor thought about it for a moment. "I want to know."

  I turned away from him. I didn't want to see his face. "He was my teacher, my coach, in high school. He's married. She knows he cheated but not that it was with a student. She doesn't know about Olive."

  "Jesus, Falyn. He just left you to deal with it on your own?"

  "No. He offered to pay for what he called a solution. I missed the appointment. And the one after that. I never thought he'd leave his wife for me. I never wanted him to. I still don't know why I did it."

  "Because you were a kid. Because you had a shitty relationship with your father. There are a dozen excuses."

  "There are no excuses. I made choices, and now, I'm living with them."

  "But you don't have to live with them alone." Taylor wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight, and buried his face into my hair.

  "After today, I'll be okay. I can let her go on my terms."

  "Just tell me what you need from me--space, a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold on to ..."

  "Probably all of the above," I said, pulling his arms in toward me until he hugged me to him.

  "Anything for you, baby."

  I smiled, remembering him saying the same thing outside of the Bucksaw the day we met. Back then, even though it was for show, Taylor had made me feel safe. Now, it was reality, and he was still somehow making everything all right.

  "Taylor!" Jim yelled from below. "Breakfast!"

  Taylor stood, and he dressed in a T-shirt and jeans before pulling a royal-blue ball cap low over his eyes. "You ready? We're going to kick this day's ass."

  After a quick shower, I put on my favorite jeans and a pink blouse I'd specially purchased at the ARC Thrift Store for the day I would meet my daughter again. I wanted her memory of me, however fleeting, to be perfect.

  Taylor went downstairs, and I spent a little extra time on my hair and makeup. Then I joined Taylor and Jim at the table. Jim was nearly finished with his breakfast when Trenton knocked twice and swung open the front door, announcing his arrival.

  "Good morning, Maddoxes!" Trenton paused to acknowledge me. "And friend." He went into the kitchen where dishes scraped, cabinet doors and drawers slammed, and the refrigerator opened and closed.

  "Enough with the friend shit," Taylor said.

  Trenton beamed as he sat in a dining chair between his father and brother with a bowl of cereal. "Oh, yeah? Did you seal the deal last night? Trav said you made her cry."

  Jim smacked the back of Trenton's head. "Trenton Allen!"

  "Ow! What'd I say?" Trenton rubbed the back of his head.

  Jim sipped his coffee, trying to smooth the annoyed expression from his face. "Are you feeling better, Falyn?"

  "Much. Thank you."

  "What's the plan today, Taylor?" Jim asked.

  Taylor shrugged, looking to his brother. "What are your plans today, dickhead?"

  Jim sighed. "Goddamn it! Can't we have one meal without the language?"

  The brothers shook their heads. Jim did, too.

  Trenton's spoon raked against his bowl of cereal. "Work."

  "Are you babysitting today?" Taylor asked.

  Trenton seemed confused. "No. Why?"

  Taylor shrugged. "Olive's freaking adorable, and I never get to see her anymore."

  Trenton shoveled a bite of Frosted Flakes into his mouth, considering Taylor's comment. "I could ask her if she wants to go to the park, if you're really hell-bent on spending the morning with a five-year-old. I have to be at work later though."

  "Six," I said.

  Trenton blinked.

  "She's six now."

  "Right," Trenton said. "She just had a birthday last week. It's going to take me a while to get used to that."

  "The park sounds fun," Jim said, eyeing me.

  I wasn't sure what he thought he knew, but he was onto us.

  "You seem to enjoy spending time with her," I said.

  Trenton grinned. "She's a cool little kid." He stood, pulled his cell phone from his pocket, and dialed a number.

  "Hey, Trenton," Taylor began, but someone had already picked up the other line.

  "Shane," Trenton said. "What's up,
buttercup? No. Yeah. Yeah. What's Ew doing today?"

  I looked at Taylor and mouthed the word, Ew?

  Taylor shrugged, unsure of the answer.

  Trenton nodded. "Yeah, my brother's in town with his girlfriend. Taylor. Nope, he's still selling insurance. They both are. Up in Colorado. Pussies." He shot a smug grin at his older brother.

  Taylor wasn't amused.

  Trenton continued his conversation with Shane, "You wanna meet us at the park? Or do you have something going on?"

  As Trenton listened to Shane's response, my stomach sank. Shane and Liza would recognize me. If they came to the park, I wasn't sure how they would react that I'd shown up unannounced.

  "Okay, that's cool. Later." Trenton set his phone on the table. "Shane's at work, and Olive is at home with Liza. He'll call Liza, and he said we could go pick Olive up in twenty."

  "Sounds good," Taylor said. "Is Bagby Park still her favorite?"

  Trenton smiled. "Yeah."

  "All right. I'm going to pick up some smokes, and we'll meet you there."

  "Hey," Trenton said, suddenly serious, "no smoking around Olive."

  "I know, fuckstick. See you in a bit. See you later, Dad."

  Taylor and I stood, and Jim waved good-bye. We walked outside to the car, fingers intertwined. It wasn't the first time Taylor had reached for me, but this felt different. He wasn't just holding my hand. He was offering to be a witness to the day I'd change my future and my past.

  I pulled the seat belt across my chest, watching as Taylor twisted the key in the ignition.

  "Did you bring your phone?" he asked.

  "No. Why?"

  "Because you're going to want to take pictures. That's okay. You can use mine."

  I shook my head. "No. No pictures. Just memories."

  "You sure?" he asked.

  I nodded and took a deep breath as Taylor backed out of the drive.

  We stopped at the convenience store at the end of the road. Taylor hurried in, bought two packs of cigarettes, and rushed out with them in hand.

  I made a face.

  He pleaded with his eyes. "I guarantee you, tonight's poker night."

  "So, you're going to smoke both packs?"

  "Maybe."

  I wrinkled my nose, and he chuckled. He kissed my hand before pulling out onto the road and heading for the park.

  The drive to Bagby Park was a short trip, just two miles away. Taylor pulled into the small gravel parking area, and I pushed out the door, feeling the small rocks crunch under my feet until I reached the grass.

  "Damn, I haven't been on one of those in a while!" Taylor said, pulling me to the seesaw. He straddled one end, waiting for me to sit on the other.

 

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