I didn’t look at where she was looking—no, I watched her. Because I knew I’d recognize the minute she discovered her little surprise.
With a gasp, Kiersten jerked back and then look through the binoculars again, then looked at me, then back through the lenses.
“Y-you…” She covered her mouth with her hands.
“I?” Grinning, I pulled her into my arms. “Yes?”
“You.” Her lower lip trembled. “You bought us a house.”
“I did.”
“The house I saw last time we went to that bed and breakfast across the bay—the house with the red door.”
“Yup.”
“The house that wasn’t even for sale when we first saw it.”
I shrugged sheepishly. Yeah, it had been hell to get the people to move out, but when I offered them twice the market rate and told them my story, I was almost afraid they were going to try to give it to me for free. Had they not been an elderly couple that vacationed in Florida half the year I wouldn’t have even pushed it.
“Look again,” I whispered. “This time see if you can’t focus on the large bay window in the front.”
Kiersten, shakily lifted the binoculars back up to her face—but this time when she saw the rest of the surprise, she dropped them and fell into my arms sobbing.
Because above the window I’d had a metal sign made for all to see.
It read simply…The Beginning.
Chapter Eleven
Emotions are a funny thing. They drive us to either make good or bad choices, they can either make our day or ruin it. Emotions for the most part cant’ be trusted because a lot of times, they help us justify our own bad behavior. They allow us to stay mad at someone, to take offense, to keep forgiveness at bay because we’ve been hurt or are still hurting. That’s why, I can honestly say, when I look at Kiersten? It’s not my emotions speaking—but my heart. Because the heart is pure in its pursuit—whereas your emotions can cause you to stumble. Why in the hell would I want to stumble in the race towards owning every part of her soul?—Wes
Wes
When Kiersten didn’t stop crying, I panicked. Had I gone too far? I knew she was still sensitive about everything that had happened, but I wanted to prove to her that the house we bought…it was our new beginning. The fresh start, the one we had dreamed about, the one we’d stayed up late in the hospital to talk about.
I rubbed her back, trying to calm her down, but if anything, my touch made it worse. She didn’t stop trembling.
And then without a word, she shot out of the chair and freaking attacked me—not in the sense that the tiny girl beat me with her fist and it tickled like she had a feather in her hands. Hell, no. She launched herself into my arms, wrapped her legs around my waist, and kissed me so hard on the mouth that I stumbled backwards, nearly colliding with the sliding glass door and giving myself a concussion.
With a grunt, I gripped her body in my hands and lifted her higher so I wouldn’t’ drop her then returned her kiss.
With. Every. Damn. Ounce. Of strength I had.
Kiersten’s response was to drop the jacket I’d lovingly placed on her shoulders and claw at my shirt.
Denying her would be like willingly shooting myself in the foot.
I freed up one of my hands and opened the sliding glass door then stepped through and shut it behind us. Kiersten opened her mouth, sucking on my tongue, making my knees shake a bit and blood roar in my veins. Where the hell were the bedrooms? I saw a living room, I saw no bed, I saw a hallway, okay hallways were good, right? Because they led to rooms?
“Holy shit.” I bit off when Kiersten’s nails dug into my back. Was my shirt off? How? How was that physically possible? I’d been holding her and then…I looked around, pieces of my shirt lay around the floor. I broke off our kiss. “Tell me the truth—were you Wonder Woman in another life?”
Kiersten’s answer?
Her clear green eyes narrowed as she wrapped her arms tighter around my neck and tugged my ear with her teeth.
“Yup,” I said hoarsely. “We’ll get you spandex later.”
Gently, I let her slide down my body and set her feet on the floor. Staring into her eyes, I smiled, and then I grabbed her hand and made a run for it. I was the romantic guy, the one who took things slow, the one who wanted to savor every moment with the girl I loved.