Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Yeah, exactly.” He chuckled. “I think it will be a week before I can feel my legs again.”
“Good. I’ll keep you right here until then.”
“We’ll starve.” He gave me a dopey smile.
“Nah. I can still reach the phone. I’ll feed you pizza.”
“Such caring.” His laugh rumbled through both of our bodies.
“I try.”
“We’re going to need a second shower at some point as well.” He stroked my sweaty back.
“We’re a mess,” I agreed. “Still staying right here.”
“Okay.” He went silent, so still I almost thought he might doze off, but he seemed to be deliberately syncing our breathing. It was some sort of joint meditation, and it was almost as good as the sex, being joined to him like this.
“Love you,” I whispered a long time later, breaking the silence because much as I loved lying like this, I was a little hungry and clammy and not all that sleepy.
“Me too.” He kissed me tenderly on the mouth before uttering my least favorite sentence. “We should talk.”
Chapter Forty-One
Derrick
Arthur did not want to talk. That much was clear from the stubborn set of his chin as well as his delaying tactics—another shower, ordering some food for delivery to the room, putting on clothes so we didn’t shock the delivery person, and eating said food. However, I drew the line when he wanted to check the news.
“You never follow the news.” I plucked the remote from his hand. “And you can critique whatever bad music reality shows you want after we talk. Really talk.”
“Okay.” Defeated, he flopped next to me on the bed, one arm over his eyes. “I’m not convinced there’s that much to talk about. You were gone and it sucked, but I made it through it. Rather, we made it through it, and now you’re back and I just want to enjoy you and be happy.”
“I know. Me too.” I peered down at him. God, I loved him, obstinate streak and all. “But how miserable were you? Everyone seemed to think you were doing terribly.”
My stomach sloshed, pizza dinner not sitting particularly well. I didn’t want him miserable, and if he was, I needed him to be honest so that we could figure out a solution together.
“I coped. I wasn’t wasting away. Sabrina and Calder were overstating it.” He managed a bored tone, but I wasn’t buying it.
“So you weren’t lonely?” I frowned at him.
“I had work. Got some new gigs I can’t wait to tell you about.”
“That’s awesome.” Despite my frustration with him, I still managed a smile and patted his arm. “I’m proud of you. So work was a good distraction?”
“I didn’t take up a new hobby like Stacey and everyone told me to, but yeah, work helped. You know me. I get in the zone and suddenly it’s been a week and I’m starving and in massive need of a shower.”
I laughed a little at that. “No other distractions? Not even a new instrument?”
“Damn. You do know me well. I got a replica of this twelfth-century stringed rebec, and I’ve been fiddling with it some.”
“I want to see.” I stroked his thigh. “And I don’t want you sad and depressed and needing to escape into work. Maybe Calder and Sabrina were joking, but you being happy, that matters.”
“Thanks.” He dropped his arm from his face and held my gaze. “You happy matters too.”
“I’d like to tell you that I’ll be stateside for a while, but we know how well it went last time I promised that.”
“I know. There will be other separations. I get it. That’s part of this gig.” He sounded so resigned that my heart clenched.
“It doesn’t have to be,” I said softly.
“We are not breaking up.” His stern tone would have been comical under other circumstances. “You’re not getting rid of me simply because the being together is hard and separations are a challenge.”
“No, no.” I held up a hand as he glared at me, his arm back down by his side, fist balled up. “No breaking up. I mean I don’t have to be in the navy forever.” Swallowing hard, I had to work to keep my voice steady. I’d rehearsed the line in my head, but saying it aloud still felt big. “This whole time we’ve both been assuming that I’ll stay in as long as possible.”
“They don’t hand civilians chief-of-the-boat duties.” He cocked his head to one side, regarding me coolly. “You’ve had a dream, Derrick. Same as Calder. Same as me, really. It would be like asking me to give up music.”
“You’re my music,” I countered, resolve stronger now. It might be big and scary to visualize a different future, but I couldn’t ignore my recent realizations either.
“What?” He wrinkled up his face.
“You’re the thing I’m most passionate about. The thing I think about first in the morning. You and building a life with you. For years, the navy gave me what I didn’t have—a family and a purpose. But for the first time I’ve got a passion that doesn’t have a rank attached. With you, I don’t have to prove anything, and that’s a feeling I want more of. I want a life with you. A home. A family.”