Last Light Page 26
His grunts turn into choked exclamations.
I tighten my legs around him, still breathless from my orgasm. “Don’t pull out. Please don’t pull out.”
He groans and ducks his head, grinding his hips against mine as his control snaps. His release shakes his body. He grits out, “Love... you... darlin’” as he comes.
It feels different. Having him come inside me.
I keep my arms and legs around him as he relaxes. Both of us are gasping. He lifts his head to kiss me slowly. “Love you,” he murmurs against my mouth.
“I love you too.”
“You’re sure about me not pullin’ out?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
“I know it’s kinda iffy ’bout babies anymore. But there’s no way to tell. It’s possible we’re makin’ a baby every time we do this.”
“I know that.” I hug him hard. “That would make me happy. I want everything with you.”
He groans softly and buries his face against the crook of my neck. “I want everythin’ too.”
“So that means we have to do one more thing.”
He grows still. “What’s that?”
There’s a smile in my voice as I say, “We’ve finally got to give the dog a name.”
THE NEXT MORNING THE sun rises in a wash of dusky violet.
I’m drinking a cup of coffee as I let out the dog, and I walk to the east side the house so I can see as much of the sunrise as possible.
After a minute I smell Travis coming up behind me.
“It’s purple,” I say with a smile.
We stand and watch as we sip our coffee. The dog eventually runs up and sits beside us, his head cocked and ears erect as he tries to figure out what we’re doing.
“You know what?” I turn to Travis with a smile. “If you just take a snapshot of the view, you’d never know if the sun was rising or setting.”
Travis frowns. “You’d know by the east or the west.”
I give him a gentle poke. “That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m just talking about the view. Out of context. You’d never know if it was the sunset or the sunrise.”
He’s quiet for a minute as he thinks about that. He picks up on my mood. Murmurs, “Yeah. Yeah. That’s true.”
“We all live our lives in just a snapshot of time. Maybe it was never the sun setting on us. Maybe it was always the sunrise.”
He moves his coffee cup into his left hand so he can twine his fingers with mine. “I think maybe it was.”
We don’t say anything else. We don’t need to.
We sip our coffee—an indulgence I thought was gone for good—and watch as the sun moves higher in the hazy sky. The deep purple lightens, brightens, transforms into blue.
I was wrong. I know that now.
The world was never ending.
What I assumed was the last light of the sun was always my beginning.
Epilogue
One year later
THE AUGUST DAY IS HOT and muggy, and I’m at that point in summer when I’m dreaming of autumn. I’m tired, dirty, and sweating beneath my clothes. Travis is speeding over a bumpy mountain trail, and the Jeep is shaking steadily, bouncing my body, my braids, my insides.
“Can you please slow down a little?” I ask at last, holding on to the support bar and breathing deeply to dispel a wave of nausea.
“Sorry.” Travis slows down dramatically and shoots me a worried look. “You feelin’ sick?”
“I’m not feeling sick. I just don’t need to be bounced around quite so much.”
He slants me a teasing glance. “Thought you liked to be bounced around.”
“Not in the car.” I’m trying not to laugh but not doing a very good job. “In bed it’s different.”
“Ah. Got it.” His smile fades slightly. “Didn’t mean to make you carsick. Just ready to be home.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
We’ve been away from our little house for almost two weeks, which is the longest we’ve been gone for the past year. The trip went well. We helped escort a group of about fifty seniors who needed to be moved to a safer location, and everything went smoothly with no real danger and no injuries other than sunburn and heat exhaustion. Travis and I have become a regular part of Mack’s network of helpers, and doing jobs like that always makes me feel like I’m contributing in a valuable way.
But two weeks is a long time to be away from home and on edge about possible danger. I’ll be happy to be back.
The dog has been curled up at my feet, occasionally lifting his head grumpily when Travis jars the car too much for his liking. He goes wherever we do, and he always makes the best of it.
But he’s like us. He likes to be home the most.
We’re not very far away now, and I’m getting excited. I reach over to poke Travis in the arm. “You don’t have to go quite so slow. I promise I won’t puke on you.”
“Don’t much want you pukin’ on the dog either.”
I laugh. “He has a name now, you know.”
“Yeah. But still think he prefers to go by ‘dog.’”
“No, he doesn’t. He knows his name. Don’t you, Duke?”
The dog lifts his head at that, but seeing as nothing’s happening, he puts it down again with a long huff.
“Still can’t believe we named him after that poem,” Travis mutters.
“I thought that poem is your favorite.”
“It is. But the Duke is a murderer!”
I’m giggling helplessly now. “Well, it was either Duke or Lancelot, after my favorite poem. You’re the one who picked Duke.”
“Not about to name my dog freakin’ Lancelot.” He’s been holding on to an indignant scowl, but it fades into softness as his eyes rest on my face.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“You know.”
He reaches over with one hand and rubs my cheek gently with his thumb. “Can’t help it. Love you too much. Sometimes it spills over. Specially when you laugh. Almost forgot what laughing was like before I hooked up with you.”
“Well, that’s true. When we first started traveling together, all you’d do is make that soft snorting sound. I didn’t even know it was a laugh at first.”
“It was. Just took a while for me to remember how to be human.”
“You were always human. You were always good. You reminded me that it was possible.”
We gaze at each for a long moment, and Travis slows to a crawl so he doesn’t run the Jeep into a tree.
I’m flushed and smiling when he looks back at the trail in front of him. “I’m glad we were able to work this job.”
“Me too.”
“Mack looks happy. Don’t you think?”
“Sure does.”
“I’m glad. He’s a good man. He deserves to be happy.”
Travis looks like he’ll say something in response, but we’ve reached the turn up the mountain to our house, and it distracts us from everything else.
Even Duke sits up and sniffs at the air.
“I can’t wait to take a shower,” I say as we get close. “It’s been almost two weeks.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“You definitely need one. Haven’t smelled you this strong in a really long time.”
He gives me a narrow-eyed glare that isn’t particularly convincing. I can tell he’s trying not to laugh.
“I know I stink too, so you don’t have to say it.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t stink.”
“That lie is not very convincing.”
“Not a lie. I like how you smell.” He doesn’t appear to be trying to flatter me. Just saying what he believes to be true.
“How do I smell?” I ask, genuinely curious.
He clears his throat and glances away. His cheeks are slightly flushed, and I can tell he’s self-conscious. This is the same man who got embarrassed from getting a look under my shirt and holding a box of tampons and talking about h
is underwear. He hasn’t changed that much. He’s still adorably shy. But he tells me the truth right now. “You smell like mine.”
When I don’t answer immediately, he shoots me a quick look. “What?”
“Nothing. Just that you’re going to get some really good loving when we finally get home.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Before or after the showers?”
“I don’t know yet. We’ll have to see how it goes.”
WE DON’T TAKE OUR SHOWERS first.
Duke is so thrilled when we drive into the clearing on top of the mountain that he jumps out of the vehicle before it’s fully parked. He runs around the yard, barking exuberantly, and both Travis and I are laughing as we unlock the front door and check to make sure everything’s in order.
For the past several months, we’ve been working on renovating the workshop, turning the structure into a small one-room cabin so we can offer temporary shelter to people who need it. In truth, Travis has been doing most of the work and giving me the easy tasks where I can’t do much damage. The project should be done in another month.
Everything is exactly as we left it two weeks ago. No one has stumbled across our home yet.
I hope it stays that way for a really long time.
I’m smiling around the living room contentedly when Travis scoops me up without warning and carries me into the bedroom.
“What if I wanted to take a shower?” I demand, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Showers can wait. You promised me some good lovin’.”
“Did I? I’m not sure I remember.”
He gives me an exaggerated snarl. “You better start rememberin’ soon, woman.” Despite his pose of fierceness, he lays me down very gently on the bed, kissing me as he climbs on top of me. “You remember now?”
I reach up to take his face in both my hands. “It’s starting to come back to me. Maybe you could help remind me.”
He kisses me and kisses me and kisses me some more. Then he takes off my clothes and caresses me until I’m arching and whimpering. I’ve been working on his clothes as much as I can, but he finally gets impatient, stands up, and strips down to nothing in about three seconds.
Then he turns me over on my hands and knees and fucks me until I come. I’ve barely caught my breath before he’s rolling over onto his back and pulling me on top of him. I straddle his hips and ride him eagerly until both of us reach hard releases.
By then I’m exhausted, so I collapse on top of him, naked and sweating and content.
He wraps his arms around me and holds me close. “I love you, darlin’.”
“I love you too. And that was definitely some good loving.”
“No argument here.” He turns so we’re both on our sides, and then he finally loosens his arms. His eyes are quiet and tender as he brushes his fingertips down the contours of my breasts until he reaches my stomach.
It’s starting to curve outward. I’m five months along now in my pregnancy.
“It wasn’t too much for you, was it?” he asks softly.
“No. Definitely not too much. You might be big, but you’re not that big.”
He snorts. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant.” I stroke his bristly jaw. “I still like having sex like that. I’m pregnant. I’m not a different person.”
“I know that. I just worry.”
“I know. I worry too. But I’m doing fine so far, and we’ll do the best we can with the baby. That’s all we can do.”
“Yeah.”
“The air is a lot better now than it was when Grace was little. There’s no reason to think the same thing will happen to our baby.”
“I know.”
“And babies were born and grew up without hospitals for millennia.”
“I know that too. I’m gonna worry. No help for that. But I’m... hopeful.”
“Me too.” I kiss him very gently.
When we found out I was pregnant, something seemed to snap in Travis, and he was finally able to grieve for Grace. It was hard. For both of us. But it fixed something inside him that had scarred but never healed. Not until now.
He holds me for a while, until I feel too hot and sticky. Then I get up, take a shower, and change into leggings and an oversized shirt.
I’m working on dinner when Travis comes into the kitchen, smelling like soap and wearing clean clothes. I give him a casual smile but pause when I get a glimpse of his expression.
He looks serious. Just a little nervous.
“What’s the matter?” I ask.
“Nothin’. Just wanted to ask you somethin’.”
“Really? What?”
He clears his throat. “Wanted to give you somethin’.”
“Travis? What’s going on? What are you all uptight about?” My heart is racing. It feels like something important is about to happen.
He stuffs his hand in his pocket and pulls it out again, opening his palm to show me something in his hand.
A ring.
A gold ring with a pretty little diamond solitaire.
An engagement ring.
I gape down at it, utterly stunned.
He clears his throat again. “It’s okay if you don’t... I know it’s not the most important thing. But I wanted... I wanted to make it official. That I love you. That you’re everythin’ to me. That I’ll be yours forever. If... if... that’s what you want.”
My eyes are swimming in tears as I finally drag my gaze from the ring in his hand. “Where did you get that?”
“Found it. Been lookin’ for a while now. And Mack helped me dig up a couple of wedding bands. I think they’ll fit us. Cheryl said there’s been a preacher moved into their little town. So he could probably...” He shifts from foot to foot. “If you want.”
“You want to—”
“Marry you. Yeah. I do.” His eyes drop and then lift again. “You wanna?”
I’m shaking. I can’t stop. I smile at him through my tears. “Yes, I want to marry you!” I throw myself into his arms.
He manages not to drop the ring despite the force of my enthusiasm, and he wraps me in a tight hug.
Interested in either our excitement or the smell of food, Duke wanders into the kitchen and snuffles at our ankles.
Travis finally releases me and slides the ring onto my finger. It fits just right. I have no idea how he managed to find it.
We both gaze down at the ring on my finger in a sappy daze.
I never believed I could have this again. Never thought it was possible in the world as it is now.
Joy that’s almost perfectly pure.
I bask in it, reminding myself that it’s mine and Travis’s and Duke’s and our baby’s, from now until the end of the world.
About the Author
CLAIRE HAS BEEN WRITING romance novels since she was twelve years old. She writes contemporary romance and women’s fiction with hot sex and real emotion.
She also writes romance novels under the penname Noelle Adams (noelle-adams.com). If you would like to contact Claire, please check out her website (clairekent.com) or email her at clairekent.writer@yahoo.com.