“You’re kidding,” I whispered, not having a good feeling about this.
“Baby, your name is inked on my back and she loves me no matter I dicked her over. You don’t know her, we haven’t gotten deep about her but I told you she’s a good woman. When I say that I mean, she’s a really fuckin’ good woman. Funny, loving, smart, sweet. In a fucked up drunken speech, I gave it all to her. She knows about the lake, the pier, the necklaces, the promises, all our history. You’re inked on my skin. I named her kids your names. That shit, our shit, our history, our connection was and is extreme. She gets that better than anyone but you and me and she loves me. She can’t have me but she can be happy that I have what I need.”
Okay, he was a man so he didn’t get this shit but women so did not work that way.
Ever.
“Okay,” I said but even I could hear I was full of shit.
His arms gave me a squeeze and his face dropped closer to mine. “You’ll meet her and you’ll see. She is not like other women. She’s just Chelle.”
“Mm-hmm,” I mumbled and still sounded unconvincing.
He studied me then his mouth curled before he muttered, “Nothin’ to do but wait and let you experience it yourself.”
Something not to look forward to. Chelle Whatever-her-name-was-now was so not happy Creed had found me.
Shit.
I decided not to make any noise at all since even my mumbles were lame.
Creed gave me a squeeze as he said quietly, “Kids sleep late but told them we were going to Wet ‘n’ Wild tomorrow so they got wound up. That means tomorrow is a Disneyland day where they’ll be up early, rarin’ to go. We gotta hit the sack so we can get up earlier than them, get you back to the hotel then you can come back”
“Right,” I whispered and started to move away but his arms got tight again and stayed that way so I looked back up at him.
“This shit, hotel, us separated, you comin’ in under the radar, out early, thanks for doin’ that for my kids, baby,” he said quietly and I tipped my head, pressed deep and held on tight right back.
“Anything, Creed.”
I meant it.
Creed knew it.
I knew this because his face changed. His head moved. His mouth took mine and he kissed me deep and sweet.
After he lifted his head, he let me go but took my hand and moved us to the bed where we both moved in then he tucked me close.
“Love you, Sylvie,” he muttered into the top of my hair.
“Love you back, Creed,” I muttered to the skin over his collarbone.
His arms gave me another squeeze and, luckily, shortly after, tucked close to Creed, I fell into a dreamless sleep.
*
Creed
Creed’s eyes opened and he saw the dawning sun but felt Sylvie in his arms, in his bed, in his home.
He pulled in a deep breath, his chest expanding, pressing into his woman’s soft skin, soft body and he let that cut through him, leaving beauty in its wake.
Taking long moments of quiet, alone in the weak light of dawn, holding his Sylvie, finally, his eyes moved to the alarm clock on his nightstand.
Then he shifted carefully, moving slightly away to stare down at her. Her thick, long hair a tangle on his pillow, her profile relaxed in sleep.
Creed watched her.
Since having her back, this was not the first time he’d done this. In fact, he did it every day.
Every single day.
Because lying beside a still asleep Sylvie, he had her back. His little, sweet, funny, loving Sylvie who had no idea how beautiful she was. His Sylvie who had hope and love written all over her face. There she was, asleep right beside him. Those sharp edges sheathed, she was all soft, all beauty, all the memory of his Sylvie.
She told him that the old Sylvie was gone. He didn’t tell her she was wrong and he’d never tell her. He had the new Sylvie and, in these moments before her eyes opened and the day started, he had the old one too.
And down the hall, his kids slept in his house on a hill far away from fucking Kentucky and the memories buried there.
Therefore, Creed had it all.
Everything.
He lifted a hand to cup her cheek then slid her hair away from her face. He watched her features shift, her eyes flutter. She moved to her back, he saw the green gemstone twinkle at her neck and he felt the beauty of that in his gut.
“Is it time to get up already?” she asked, her voice soft and husky with sleep.
Creed shifted his fingers through her hair, pulling it down her chest then he curved his hand around her ribs under her breast as he nodded.
“Damn,” she muttered, arching her back in a little stretch.
He glided his hand up between her breasts, up her chest to the chain at her neck where he stopped and twisted it around his forefinger.
“You did it again,” he murmured and she blinked.
“Did what?” she asked.