Cooper

“And I love you, Asher.”

He gives me a sweet kiss, pulling back to rest his forehead against mine, a move I’m familiar with from him. He seems to take pleasure in just sitting like this, being close to me, and I love it.

“I’m ready.”

“One step at a time, okay? If you need to stop, we can come back later.”

He nods and climbs down from the cab. We walk hand in hand into Coop’s old house. I refuse to let his hand go, even when the grip becomes almost unbearable.

***

That day had to be one of the hardest. Witnessing him breakdown when he walked through the door, his huge frame crashing to his knees. A sound so heartbreaking slipping from his throat was almost my undoing. But when I hurried to kneel in front of him and saw the raw, unmasked pain in his eyes—the tears that were flowing down his face—I couldn’t hold back any longer. I pulled him into my arms and held him. I held my big, strong man while he purged himself of every ounce of grief he’d been holding in since he’d lost Coop. He cried for what felt like hours, my ass and legs going numb, my back killing me, and my arms shaking with the effort to hold him steady. You couldn’t have pulled me away if you’d tried.

I stayed by his side, just like I’d promised, and I tried to cover him in my light. Giving him what he needed—my love.

It took us hours and a few more breakdowns before we were able to even make a dent in packing up his brother’s memories. It was when I found him sitting on the edge of Coop’s bed, his pillow clutched in his arms and his sobs echoing around the room, that I knew we needed to go.

He didn’t fight me. I helped him out to the truck, into the passenger’s seat, and drove us back to my place—or rather our place since he pretty much is living there at this point. He was like a zombie the whole time, still clutching that damn pillow. Joe gave us a concerned look when we walked through the lobby door, but I waved him off with a small smile. He nodded his head and continued whatever he had been messing with on the computer.

That night, I fed a still silent Asher, put him in the shower with me, and tried my hardest to wash away the sadness that was coating him like a thick jacket. The whole time, I worried that he was slipping back into that darkness and I wouldn’t be able to get him back this time.

We fell asleep, my arms holding him close to my body, his head resting against my chest, and his arms wrapped around my waist.

I woke up again to wetness against my chest and his body shaking. My heart broke for every violent shudder that racked his body. When he lifted his head and looked into my eyes, I didn’t know what to expect. But what came out of his mouth will forever be something I remember.

“I don’t think I would have survived that had you not been there. I told you before that you’re my light, my Sunshine, and baby, if it hadn’t been for you shining that light on me today, I wouldn’t have escaped that pain.”

I gulped my sob, wanting nothing more than to break down in that moment. He leaned up, giving me the softest kiss before taking my body in a lovemaking that was so pure I felt like our souls had merged into one.

When he gasped my name as he came, words of our love for each other whispered in the darkness, I knew that, even though he might still have hard moments, we had jumped a huge hurdle that he’d needed in his healing.

“Chelcie?”

“Back here, baby!” I call out, finishing out the last chapter I had written. A sense of pride fills me when I look down at the word count. Holy shit, I’m really doing this!

“What are you up to? Don’t we need to head out?” He nuzzles my neck, trailing hot kisses along as he moves up to rest his chin on the top of my head.

“Uh, nothing?” Dammit, I really need to work on this answering-him-with-a-question crap. He always sees right through my being evasive.

Truth is, I haven’t told anyone that I’m writing this book. I’ve been working on it for so long that I think I always thought it just wouldn’t get finished. Or maybe the fear is what keeps me from telling anyone. It’s a part of me that I’ve kept so close that it almost feels like a betrayal to my mind…as stupid as that sounds. Or if I admit it out loud, then it becomes real—the pressure to do it, to succeed becomes real.

“Sunshine, stop thinking and let me in.”

“It’s, uh… It’s a book I’ve been working on,” I groan, knowing that I sound like a complete fool. I bury my head in my hands and wait for his laughter.

“A book? Damn, that’s astounding babe. Did you just start this?”

I turn around and look at him, the shock and love clear on his face. There is nothing but respect and happiness for me. For me and my dream. I smile so large that it hurts my face, knowing damn well that I must look wonky.

“You okay there?” he laughs, mirth apparent with each word.

“Never been better, baby. Never been better.”

He kisses me with what starts off as one of those sweet kisses I love so much, but it turns quickly into a devouring of mouths.

“Must be one hell of a book if I get this kind of reaction from you.” He smiles down at me, looking so happy that my heart swells.

“It’s nothing,” I nervously groan.

“Don’t do that,” he sternly bursts. “Don’t diminish something that is obviously important to you. Your dreams are important to me. I want to be here to enjoy them, cheer you on, and lift you up. This isn’t a one-man show, sunshine. You there for me and me alone. No, it doesn’t work like that with me. So let me ask you again—what is this book you’re working on?” His tone leaves no room for arguing, and I can see in his eyes that he means it. He wants to be there and he genuinely wants me to tell him.

“I started working on this book idea I had a few years ago. I never thought that I would do anything more than play with it, but the story has been demanding I finish it lately. I don’t know how to explain it. I feel like I need to write it more than I need to breathe. It sounds so silly.” I try to hide my face again, afraid that I might start crying and basket-case Chelcie will come out to play.

“Chelcie, there is nothing about that that sounds silly. I’m so proud of you. It takes serious guts to be able to write something that means that much to you. I hope one day you’ll let me read it.”

“You really want to read it? It’s not like…man stuff. It’s romance, baby.” I place one hand on his solid chest and the other against his cheek.