Page 58 of Tru Blue
“DON’T WE HAVE enough pictures?” Truman asked as he lifted Kennedy into his arms and brushed off her tiny bare feet.
Gemma smiled, knowing she’d take a million more. Truman had built a sand castle with Kennedy. They’d collected shells to put in a bowl at the apartment and had watched the sun set while Kennedy tried to outrun the waves creeping up the shore. Gemma had taken tons of pictures. She’d taken one of her favorites when Lincoln had gotten fussy. It was a beautiful picture with the moon rising in the background and Lincoln cradled against Truman’s broad chest. Truman was looking down at Lincoln like he was the most spectacular sight he’d ever seen, and Lincoln’s little hand reached for his cheek.
This had been the most perfect evening Gemma could remember.
“You’re going to be happy you have these.” She shoved her phone in her pocket and helped Truman settle Kennedy in the stroller. “We need to make photo albums so you can embarrass Lincoln with his first girlfriend and Kennedy with her prom date or before she gets married. Those are important rites of passage for a little girl.”
“Did you go through those rites of passage?” He pushed the stroller onto the boardwalk and pulled Gemma against his side.
She looked up at his handsome face. He’d been working so hard lately, but he looked more relaxed than she’d ever seen him, and she realized she had been more relaxed lately, too. Truman was so attentive toward her, and every time he saw her he lit up, like he’d been thinking about her all day and he was happily surprised to see her, even if they’d made plans. It was an amazing feeling to be adored and cherished. They may have come from different sides of the tracks, but at some point those tracks merged, because he understood her like no one else ever had.
“No. All our pictures were posed,” she admitted, remembering those awful times when she was told what to wear, how to stand, and even how wide to smile.
Way deep down inside, she’d wondered if she’d built up hope for finding someone unattainable, a man who would be happy with her and with life instead of making her feel like she was never enough, as her parents had. Truman erased that deep-seated fear. The only thing he wanted more of was her.
“Well, then, I’ll need to take lots of pictures of you when you’re not expecting them.” He slid his hand around her neck and gazed into her eyes. “I’m falling so hard for you, Gemma. I want to right all the wrongs you’ve had done to you.”
He was so thoughtful and caring and so much deeper than any man she’d ever known. Falling? She leaped over the edge. Goose bumps raced over her skin.
“I’m falling for you, too.”
A group of guys walked by and Truman tightened his hold on her. She loved his possessiveness. She’d caught him watching the guys on the beach who noticed her, tossing out back-off stares like confetti. She’d also noticed him acting just as protective over the kids. As Kennedy ran from the waves, he did the same, looking like a giant beside the petite toddler. And when people glanced into the stroller to look at the pretty baby—and Lincoln was a very pretty baby, with his downy-soft reddish hair and creamy skin—Truman stood with one hand on his little boy, watching the friendly strangers like a hawk. But right now all that intensity was focused on her, and she’d never felt anything so luxurious or so hot.
“I’m one hell of a lucky bastard.” He drew her into another delectable kiss.
The kids fell asleep on the way back to the car, and Gemma’s head lingered in the clouds as they put the children to bed. Truman turned on the radio by the monitor, as he did every time they went out to the deck after putting the kids to sleep, and took her hand as they left the kids’ room. As soon as he shut the door, he pinned her hands above her head, pressed his body into hers until her back hit the wall, and kissed her. The force of the kiss sent the pit of her stomach into a swirl of heat and lust. His hips ground into hers as he took the kiss deeper, moaning intensely, the vibrations obliterating her brain cells.
When their lips parted, he bit her lower lip and gave it a tug. “I have been dying to do that all night.”
