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What in the world was he talking about?
“Six centimeters is not mighty, Silverback,” she shouted back. “That’s not even cocktail-wiener sized.”
The room once again filled with laughter that made my insides vibrate—or maybe it was my laughter that did that. I couldn’t be sure and it didn’t matter—laughter was laughter, hearing it, feeling it, it was all the same. It felt good and nourished the soul.
“Are you talking about Easton’s dick?” I blurted out.
More laughter, this time only from the men.
“His claim is that it’s teeny-tiny,” Bridget informed me.
“Well, he lied. It’s huge.”
Bridget sputtered and through her laughter yelled, “I want my present back, you liar.”
“You doing okay?”
I cuddled closer, my belly full of the tacos Easton had made. The bottle of wine the girls and I polished off was making me sleepy. But I roused at his question—the third time he’d asked it since we’d been home but the first time since he’d put me to bed. I’d melted into him—not due to the drowsiness. What woke me was the care behind the question.
I didn’t bother hiding or evading. Not that Easton would’ve allowed that. He’d find a way to pull the truth from me, but I didn’t want to evade.
“She went to my graduations.”
“Yeah, baby,” he murmured softly, his voice thick with understanding.
“She called every birthday,” I went on, telling him stuff he knew since he hadn’t left my side the whole time I’d talked with my mother.
And by that I mean, he didn’t leave my actual side—he stayed close, holding my hand or wrapping his arm around my shoulder. This after he’d stood strong while I burrowed into him, the pain of seeing my mother so great it sliced through me. And Easton took the anguish and gave me something beautiful in return—protection, peace, safety, concern. I knew with him by my side, if it had been too much, if the hurt cut too deep, if Anna had said anything that caused so much as a flinch from me, Easton would’ve unapologetically whisked me away.
Easton remained quiet, but his hand on my hip gave me a squeeze.
I blew out a breath and gave him what he was after.
“I don’t know what I’m feeling. That’s not me prevaricating, I truly don’t know. On one hand it makes it worse knowing she called, she went to my graduations, she’d sought me out and found me at restaurants and sat close without me knowing. But somehow it makes it a little better knowing she cared, and in the only way she felt she could she kept me close. Knowing all of that means I know Charlie lied about more than her being dead. But I’m starting to come to the understanding he did what he felt he had to do. I don’t agree with his decisions but I can’t deny he might’ve been right to keep her secret. It might’ve made it harder if I knew she was alive but I couldn’t see her. And I definitely would’ve looked for her. So really there’s no might have. He was just plain right keeping the truth from me. And I don’t know what to do with that.”
“Makes sense.”
I nodded against his chest, marveling in the way we fit. From the first morning I’d woken up to him that had been the case. The fit had nothing to do with the way we physically fit together, though I loved that we did. It was what the physical closeness said that made the fit so perfect. Two people who had been cast adrift finding each other. Never experiencing true, deep, abiding love from the people who brought us into this world—though evidence was suggesting I did have that from my mother even if that love came with pain. She’d left to keep me safe. Charlie did love me in his own way, but it wasn’t enough. I figured with all that we had and didn’t have we’d recognize the bounty of having it now. At least I did, and from all that Easton had given me, I believed he understood how we fit and knew how special it was.
“You didn’t leave Anna with much when you left,” he noted.
He was correct. I didn’t close the door on a future but neither did I welcome mommy home after two decades with declarations of inviting her into my life.
“I only make promises I know for a fact I can keep, and I’m not sure how I feel right now and I’m not sure if I’ll know what I want in a week or a month. I just don’t know. Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel differently and I’ll call her and ask her what she wants for the future. Maybe that call won’t happen for years. What I am sure about is that call is mine to make and I’ll make it when I’m ready. I’ve spent too much of my life doing things to make others happy or proud or doing them to earn the love and respect from people who I shouldn’t have had to do that for. I was trained into who I became, not guided with care and love.”
Easton lay there quietly.
Just his fingertips gently sweeping over my hip, down my thigh as far as he could reach, then back up. Giving me sweet. Giving me quiet. Giving me calm. All of this after a shitty day that had broken me but didn’t destroy me. Easton had made sure of that, and he continued when he announced to everyone it was time to leave when he saw me stifle a yawn. He continued when he guided me to our room after we’d said our goodbyes then told me to get ready for bed while he helped Smith lock up. He came back just as I was coming out of the bathroom, and continued taking care of me, giving me what I needed when he pulled back the bedclothes, helped me in, tucked me in, then went to get ready for bed himself. When he came back out, he hit the lights, got in next to me, and curled me into his side, commencing in giving me more.
This.
No sex. No kissing. No grouping. No wild.
Sweet. Quiet. Calm.
I couldn’t say for certain but I was pretty sure there wasn’t another man on the planet who was as perfect as Easton. However, I was certain there was no one else who was perfect for me.
And he should know that.
