Page 110 of A Curse On Black Lake
Dropping my shears and flower, I run after him.
I leap onto his back, and he huffs, catching himself and me before I take us both to the ground.
He chuckles, sliding his hands under my thighs so I’m riding piggyback.
I kiss his sweaty neck.
“What’s all this?” he asks.
“I—” The words get caught in my throat.
Killian moves me to his front like I’m a small child, even though I weigh significantly more than one. The corner of his mouth tips up in an almost smile, and my soul feels like it’s blooming, and Killian is the sun it needed.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
My heart thumps erratically, but my soul screams, yes. Even the Spirits are quiet.
I take his hat off his head and drop it onto mine.
“Yes.”
Chapter thirty-seven
Killian
“Whatdoyouwant?”I ask her.
Her perfect lips roll together, and it takes everything in me not to bite one. I squeeze her ass, bringing her undivided attention to me. “Darlin’, you can trust me,” I tell her.
She blinks again, and a tear escapes her eye. I press my mouth to it, catching it on my lip.
Her worry-filled eyes search mine, and she says, “I want to trust you.”
“So then let yourself, Eliana.”
“I’m scared,” she whispers.
“So then let me hold you while you are.”
“I can’t lose someone again. I’ve lost everyone,” she says.
With her still in my arms, I take us to the chair on the back porch. She tries to get off me, but I won’t let her.
If anyone understands the fear of losing those you love, I do. Yes, death is a reality for us all. It doesn’t matter who you are, but we are still living. And it hit me when my lips met hers for the first time that we should not bury ourselves with those we have been forced to.
“I don’t want to lose you either. But, baby, I think we’re worth a shot. I know it’s scary, and risky, but…”
There is no reason for us to hold back. Not with me or her, not when life on Earth can come to such an abrupt end.
She nods and brushes her cheek. “But it’s a risk worth taking,” she says.
“You are,” I tell her.
“You’re willing to be with someone like me with all my extra … problems?” she asks.
I grab her hand and press my lips to her knuckles, then unfold it and press my mouth to her palm. “What’s happening to us is not on you. But your Grams was right. You’ve been given a special gift. You’re not a problem, and even if you were, tell me where to sign up because I want them all.”
“Maybe you’re the crazy one,” she mutters.
