“Is that why you push me away all the time? You’re afraid you’re cornering me or something crazy?”
I nodded sadly. “That’s exactly what it is. And then I meet your parents and hear them talk about grandkids and they look at us with such expectations,” I sighed. “They’ll hate me, Max. They’ll look at me and look at Isa and I’ll be the loser. I’ll be half the woman she is. I’ll be—”
“My wife.”
“What?”
“You’ll be my wife. You’ll be the woman I chose to spend the rest of my life with because you make me happy.” He paused. “The only half of anything you are is half of me,” he whispered.
Tears welled up and fell in one swift moment. “Oh, Max.” I rose up and planted one knee on either side of him, straddling his midsection. He winced in pain. “You alright?”
“Take it easy on this side, sweetheart.”
I shifted my weight and curiously lifted the hem of his shirt. His eyes narrowed, his forehead marred in what seemed like fear.
The shirt lifted to his neck and I saw a white gauze pad taped to the top of the tattoo that spanned his side.
“What happened?” I looked at his face and he closed his eyes. A slow smile spread across his face, his dimple ever-present.
“I got a little marked up on the way home.”
“What do you mean?” I asked nervously. “Did you get hurt? Are you bleeding?”
“Ah, just a bit. I’m okay.”
“Did you put something on it? What happened?”
He moved his head side to side. “I sat down in a chair and got stuck with something sharp. It’ll be okay.”
“You might need a tetanus shot, Max. That’s nothing to play with. You don’t even know how many people come to the ER and have serious issues because their tetanus wasn’t up to date. Let me look at it.”
“Be my guest.”
I slowly peeled the gauze off and my hands dropped to my side, my eyes growing wide. “Max!”
KARI
I stared at the fresh ink staining his angry skin. A purple orchid was weaved through the top of the vine that anchored the side-long tattoo.
I covered my mouth with my hand, unsure of what to say. I finally dragged my eyes from the design and to his eyes. He was watching me, as unsure as I was.
“It’s so beautiful, Max. I just want to touch it.”
He chuckled softly. “Please don’t.”
“How did you get it to match mine so perfectly?”
He shrugged.
“That’s forever, you know.”
“What’s your point?” He challenged me.
“You put the orchid that means something to me on your vine. You can’t remove it. It’s permanent.”
“And so are you.”
“You didn’t have to do that to make your point,” I said softly.
“Sweetheart, this vine on my side holds together little pieces of all the places and things that matter to me. My grandparent’s initials are in the bottom, an anchor for my dad. There’s a heart for my mom and a B for Brielle,” he said, working his finger up his side as he pointed out different things woven intricately into the vine. “There’s a star for what I’ll always think of as home back in Texas and a horseshoe for my grandparent’s ranch. And now,” he grinned, “there’s an orchid at the top of the vine for you. Because whether you love me or leave me, you will always be someone special to me. The lady that captured my heart.”
“I think it was a fair exchange then because you’ve certainly captured mine, Mr. Quinn.”
I saw a flash of his dimple before his lips covered mine softly. I took both sides of his face in my hands and guided him on top of me as I rolled onto my back. He kissed from my mouth to my ear, down my throat and back to my lips again. I ran my fingers through his hair, enjoying the feeling of his body, of the safety I felt with him.
Of the love.
A love I hadn’t felt before, a love I hadn’t allowed myself to feel before, lest my heart be left in shambles. Max’s acceptance of me, his assurances, his knowing everything and still coming for me soothed my soul and replaced the walls around my heart with confidence of being loved.
“I need you inside me,” I breathed against his ear as he nipped my bottom lip. I needed to feel him, to allow him every part of me. I wanted to cry in a weird way, the restraints I had always fought against now mostly gone. “Now, Max.”
He made quick work of ridding himself of his clothes and I kicked out of my pants. He tugged my shirt over my head and I pressed my hands against the small of his back, urging him towards me.
His eyebrows shot up and I shook my head no. A lazy grin graced his lips. “You sure?” he whispered, almost as if he was afraid to ask.
For the first time, I let him see me, the real me, without the shield. Without the fear. Without the baggage and questions and concerns.
“I’m sure. No condom,” I said softly.
His eyes grew wide, his grin mirroring it, as he sank himself inside my body and began to move.
“I love you,” I said softly.
He grinned in response and I was sure he felt the connection on a level much deeper than a physical one, too. “I love you, sweetheart.”
KARI