Page 120 of Fire Island
His.
“Christ, baby girl, where have you been all my damn life.” The words are ragged, too thick to be any more than a whisper.
“I’m here now, sweet man.”
He folds me into his chest, dipping his head to my shoulder. I wrap my arms around his head, turning mine to press a kiss to his temple. Reluctant to unravel from our moment of bliss, I stay in his arms as long as he is willing. Knowing there will be things that will test us. But those things will not steal our happiness right now.
“I don’t want to let you go,” Cal mutters.
“You don’t have to. Besides, this time I won’t let you, you stubborn ass.”
He chuckles. Pulling away, he spins me around. “Imagine how many times we could do that in this very spot if we were sailing around the world?” he says with the happiest smile.
“The world will never be big enough...” I cup his face in my hands. “I like this plan.”
“You want to stay here or head back?”
“Maybe we could stare at the stars for a little while?”
“Sure thing.”
I take his hand and lead him back to the deck where our clothes are scattered over the wooden floor. I lie on the cloth and hold a hand up to him. He sinks to the deck, putting out an arm. I snuggle close, my head on his arm. He rests his to the side. “I could lie here all night counting stars with you.”
“You’d be snoring in no time, old man.”
He chuckles. “Well, let’s not fall asleep here tonight. This old man needs his bed.”
“We won’t.” I tilt my head up, kissing his jaw.
Watching the stars shift overhead, we whisper our thoughts as the world turns around us. The night’s cool air sends an ache through my muscles on the hard wooden deck, and I roll over. “Bedtime, my love.”
“Think Irry and Em finished the movie?”
I study him for a minute. He really has no clue... “Most likely.”
“Irry’s probably asleep by now.”
I push up onto my elbow and trace the angles of his face. “Sleep sounds so good.”
“Yes, it does.”
After covering up the Pearl as much as we can, we head back through the yard and scale the gates again. Ten minutes later, without the ice cream, we push through the café front door, careful not to jingle the bells. Locking it behind us, Cal grabs my hand, leading me up the stairs to the spare room.
Safely inside, we strip out of our clothes and climb under the covers. The tiny bed has us wrapped around each other a moment later. I press my hand to Cal’s chest, over his heart. It’s faster than usual, and I glance up.
“What is it?”
He looks down, his jaw flexing.
“I can’t lose you, Evie.”
Crawling up the bed the best I can on my side, I cup his face and tilt it down so his eyes are level with my own. “That’s not going to happen, okay?”
He nods, his Adam’s apple working as he tugs me close, so tight my mind is wild with worry. For whatever he’s thinking. For whatever could happen next that I can’t control.
Sucking in a raw, deep breath, he whispers, “Tha gaol agam ort.”
Thirty-Two
