Taylor
I’ve spent the night in his arms. The whole night with Cole wrapped around me, holding me close, protecting me from anything that might come along. Now, I hear him walking around the bedroom. I lie still, eyes closed. I’m in that sweet spot between being asleep and awake, just drifting along. I don’t want to leave it. Real life has been sweet lately—very sweet—but this dream where I’m married to Cole is even sweeter.
I feel young again. I really do. I’m happy. I feel happy and light and I am so incredibly glad to be alive. There is nobody here who wants to take advantage of me. I want to savor the moment.
I wonder what he’s doing. He’s trying to be sneaky. He always was a sneak. He’d buy me presents and pretend that we just came upon them in the woods. I still have that pretty love heart locket that we just happened to find under a fallen leaf. Maybe he wants to surprise me. The thought makes me smile, which of course gives away that I’m awake.
He sits on the edge of the bed, close to me. I open my eyes and my smile dies. He is fully dressed. I start to feel sick. I didn’t expect him to leave so soon, with no fanfare. There I was, thinking he wanted to make me happy. Stupid Taylor. You should’ve known better. “Where are you going? Are you leaving?”
His beautiful eyes sweep over my face, reading me like a book. “I’m not leaving. I’m just going to town for a minute.” He strokes my cheek with his fingertips, then cups my chin in his palm. “You have to learn to trust me, Taylor. I’m not leaving. Ever. This is it for you. You are stuck with me forever.”
I shrug, speechless for a minute.
“Didn’t I tell you I won’t let you go this time? Did you think I was lying?”
Oh, right. I forgot about that. “I guess … I don’t know … it’s hard for me to believe something like that.”
“Oh, sweet Taylor, when will I gain your trust again?” He leans down to kiss me and I let myself sink into the kiss. His lips are warm and tender, but possessive. He has the strength I’ve been missing for so long. I want to let him take care of me. I want to give myself to him because I know he’ll never take advantage of me. He’s the only man who never took advantage of me. He’s my safe place. I wrap a hand around the back of his neck and start pulling him down on top of me, but he pulls back.
“Hey, I have plans for us.” He touches his forehead to mine and smiles.
“Oh. Right.” I sit up then, running my hands through my hair. It’s a mess. He doesn’t seem to care, plus, he’s the one who made it that way. “So? Where are you going?”
“I thought I’d pick up some breakfast since I can’t trust you to fix us anything.”
I laugh. “What’s wrong with you? Is steak the only thing you know how to cook?”
“No comment,” he chuckles. “Maybe you’re not the only one who never had to learn how to cook.”
“I thought so,” I say with a smile. “Okay. What’s for breakfast, then?”
“I was thinking … fresh fried apple muffins. What do you think?” Like he has to ask. My eyes go round and my mouth starts watering. I’m like Pavlov’s dog. I can’t believe he remembers my obsession with fried apple muffins. Not just any sort of muffins, either. Like those plastic-wrapped pieces of garbage they sell at gas stations. These are baked fresh at Sharon’s Bakery.
“You remember,” I whisper with a smile.
“How could I forget? You’ve made me go out of my way to find them more times than I can count.”
“I know.”
“You wanted to develop an app—”
“Yes, Cole. I get it. You remember because I have a fried apple muffin problem.” I shove him playfully and he laughs.
“I thought it would be a nice gesture,” he says with a smile that makes his dimples stand out. It is almost shy, a thing one could associate with a man’s man like him. I can’t tease him anymore when he smiles like that. Even though I know he’s playing around. Trying to melt me. Which he’s doing, and very well, but still.
“It would be. I’m starving. Why are you still sitting here?”
“That’s because you were trying to get in my pants, like, twenty seconds ago.”
“That was before you put the thought of fried apple muffins in my head. Go! Get moving!” I try to shove him off the bed, but his feet are so solidly planted on the floor. It’s like trying to move a wall. He doesn’t budge an inch. Laughing my head off I start using my feet instead.
“Fine, fine!” He gets up and he’s laughing, too, and I think this is it. This is what I want, forever. Laughing with him over stupid things, being silly, teasing each other and looking forward to spending the morning together. My heart has never felt so full.