Page 119 of Friendshipped
“I’m glad you said yes,” Trevor says. “My knee might have been starting to get frostbite.”
I laugh and tug him toward me.
“I love you, Trevor.”
“I love you more, Lexi.”
Trevor turns his face toward mine and kisses me softly. Our lips are cold, but his breath warms us. He kisses the side of my mouth and then playfully nips at my lower lip and then our mouths join. This kiss is one I know I’ll remember years from now. There are kisses, and then there are kisses. This kiss is filled with all our years of waiting for one another and all our hope for the future. Trevor removes his glove and the warmth of his hand meets my cheek. I feel his touch travel through my body in little jolts of pleasure. He tugs me toward him with his free hand and I melt into him willingly. A low growl comes from the back of his throat and I giggle into our kiss.
“You think it’s funny how you affect me?”
“Not funny,” I say, barely stifling my grin and then allowing it to break across my face as Trevor leans in toward me again, kissing me before I even stop smiling.
Our levity is replaced with serious intensity in a matter of seconds.
We stand on the driveway, exploring one another, clinging together as the winter wind swirls around us, gusts occasionally kicking up snow and resettling it.
My hands move to Trevor’s chest, and even though we are both wearing coats and I’m still wearing gloves, I can feel him through everything separating us. I can always feel him.
We don’t rush. We take our time, savoring one another and falling deeper and deeper in love with every movement of our lips. When we separate, Trevor puts his hand behind my back and turns me so we are side-by-side with his arm around my shoulder. Gentle snowflakes start to fall, landing on his dark hair and lashes.
He points toward the old home.
“You see that house, Lexi?”
“The Finch place?”
“Yep.”
Trevor looks at it like he sees something that isn’t even there. The house has been neglected a little these past few years and it shows. But Trevor is looking at it as if it’s restored. The look in his eyes makes me imagine this house with fresh paint, a trimmed yard and a fire blazing in the fireplace.
“I want this house,” he says, looking at me and then back at it. “I don’t know why. It’s been a place I come to on my own sometimes when I’m out on a longer run. I took Rob here once. He saw what I saw. It needs so much work, but with the right touch, it could be everything. It could be the home where we raise our family and grow old together. Can’t you see it? You and me on our porch chairs drinking lemonade?”
“The kind made with sugar?”
He chuckles. “Of course. I know you don’t drink that namby pamby diet stuff.”
He knows me so very well.
“And our kids will run in the yard and catch fireflies in jars at night and we’ll tuck them in and then I’ll take you into our bedroom …”
I giggle and nudge him just a little. “Oh, please, continue.”
He turns to me and nibbles my ear. My skin is cold from the winter air and he breathes his warm breath gently onto my ear and then trails kisses down my throat.
In a husky voice he says, “I’ll do all the married things to you, my Lexi.”
“You will, will you?” I ask him, blushing.
He studies my face. His pupils dark and warm, drawing me in like deep pools in the middle of amber flecked hazel rims. The smile on his face is one I want to catalog and remember every day of my life. He’s smiling about our future.
“What will it take to make this house yours?” I ask.
“Ours.”
A massive smile overtakes my face. “Ours.”
“The Finch family doesn’t want to keep it. The brother and sister are busy living their lives and don’t have any ties here in Bordeaux anymore. They each own half the property as a part of their inheritance. I looked into what it would take to buy it and they are interested in making a deal with me. They know it’s going downhill and losing value with no one caring for it.”
