First Love (22 page)

"Let's get you two out of here and to the hospital to get checked out, okay?" I say as I put my hand out to help her up off the bed.

“I can't wait to get out of here," she says as she takes my hand and starts to walk in front of me.

“Oh … by the way, Princess, I love you. I have missed you like crazy," I tell her as I pull her in for a soft kiss so I don't hurt her cut and swollen lips. She is not going for the soft kiss, however. She starts kissing me like I am a bottle of ice-cold water in the middle of the desert. As soon as her tongue slides between my lips, I am lost to her. I miss her taste, her feel, and her sounds. Every ounce of love I felt for her I am trying to portray in this kiss. And of course, when she kisses me like that, the man in me pops out. I'm not being figurative. I am getting so fucking hard it hurts. Beasley is at the door, clearing his throat.

“Okay, you two. There's plenty of time for that later. Let's get the hell out of here," he says as we all make our way out to the boat. On the ride back I wonder if they are going to find Beau, and if not, will he just vanish, never to be heard from again? Are we going to be watching over our shoulders for the rest of our lives?

W
E GO
straight to the hospital. By the time they are finishing all the tests, it’s almost ten in the morning. Sheriff Beasley comes in and takes my statement so I don’t have to go to the station and do it. For that, I am grateful. By the time we walk out of the hospital, it’s one in the afternoon. Three days. Three days have passed. Three days I’ve been dealing with this shit. All things considered, physically I am pretty lucky. A couple bruised ribs and five stitches. What my mental state will be like after this is anyone’s guess. I would feel a lot better if they had caught Beau. He doesn't seem like the type of guy that gives up very easily. I know Kyle is worried about Beau being out there, but he’s not letting it show.

I haven't been able to stop holding onto Kyle. I feel like if I let him go, I will lose him forever. I didn't think I would ever see him again. The thought of never being with Kyle again frightened me more than knowing I was probably going to die. I just want to be home, snuggled up in his arms, safe and sound in our bed. Just thinking about it makes me smile. His deep, sexy voice breaks through my daydream.

"What are you thinking about that has you smiling so pretty over there?" he asks. He sounds more relaxed than he was a couple hours ago, which I am grateful for. We need to live in the moment, be happy that we have each other, and be grateful we are together. There are no guarantees that we will have anything past this moment, so why live in constant fear and worry about what might happen? I am not going to do it. I am going to enjoy every second I have with Kyle, our friends, and my center.

“I was thinking about getting you home and in our bed," I say seductively. Operation living in the moment commenced.

“I was thinking of running you a nice hot bubble bath. Then getting into it with you to keep you company. Once you are nice and relaxed and all clean, I will take you to bed and hold you tight in my arms until you fall asleep." He has a sheepish grin on his face.

“That actually sounds perfect." And it does. As long as Kyle is by my side, I’m happy with whatever we do. He is my soul mate, my other half. Over the past couple days, without Kyle in my life, I honestly don't think I would have the strength or willpower to pick myself up and keep going. There always seems to be some tragedy or heartache that follows me, but I can always pick myself up and keep going. This time is not going to be any different. Having Kyle by my side, makes me certain.

“We're home, Princess." I love the sound of that. We're home. Our home, together. I look over at him and smile. I can't help but smile when I look at him. He isn't just a handsome man, he is truly beautiful inside and out. He gets out of the truck, comes around to my side, and opens my door. I turn to get out, but he doesn’t move away. He steps closer, positioning himself between my legs. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me closer to him. For a moment, we just stare into each other’s eyes, no words needed. I can see the love he has for me and the fear he has felt thinking he might lose me. It is almost like looking into a mirror. When he finally starts to speak, his voice is filled with emotion.

“I love you so much. The last couple days, not knowing where you were or what was happening to you, just about killed me. Being without you is like being held under water. The longer you were gone, the less air I had. I would drown without you in my life." Every word he speaks fills my heart. They are the sweetest, most romantic words I have ever heard. The tears start to fall on their own accord. I can’t help it. I just hope I don’t look like a blubbering mess.

He wipes the tears away with his thumbs as he continues, “I know we said we were going to wait a while before we set a date to get married. I don't want to wait … not after what happened. Anything can happen at any time. Life is too fucking unpredictable. I don't know what is going to happen in the future, but I do know, more than anything I have ever wanted in my entire life, I want to be your husband." Wow. The words evade me as my tears pick up, almost turning into sobs. I breathe deep and gather my bearings. I look into his eyes. He’s nervous, his eyes pleading.

“I love you, too. More than I ever thought possible. The whole time I was at that cabin I was more afraid of never seeing you again than I was of anything Beau was going to do. I don't want to waste time, either. I want to be your wife." I barely choke the words out before he is crushing his lips to mine and kissing me. Have I mentioned how much I love this man?

W
E FINALLY
make it into the house after a very hot and heavy make out session that almost got out of hand. My body, as usual, has a mind of its own when it is up against hers. But, when I squeeze her waist and she winces in pain, I know we need to stop. While we were at the hospital, I had decided that I was going to pamper her tonight. I knew she was exhausted and probably in pain, so I thought a hot bubble bath and some cuddling would be the best medicine. I don't want Amber out of arms-reach for a long time … if ever. Now, it’s all about her relaxing and trying to start putting the last two days behind her.

Once we get inside I tell Amber to head upstairs. I grab a bottle of champagne and two glasses. When I get to the bedroom, Amber is filling the tub and getting undressed. She has her back to me and I stop dead in my tracks and audibly gasp. That son of a bitch! Her entire back is covered in bruises. One of them is actually the shape of a fucking shoe. If I ever get my hands on Beau, I honestly don't think I will be able to control myself. I turn around and put the glasses on the counter. I start opening the bottle of champagne. I have to calm myself down. I don't need to upset her more than she already is. This is about helping her forget, if only for a little while. Once I get the bottle open, I pour it in the glasses, set the bottle down, and turn around to face her again. She must notice me looking at her bruises. Shit.

“I’m really okay, Kyle. I promise, it looks a lot worse than it is," she says quietly as she starts to move closer. “Let me help you out of all these clothes. They are in my way." Here I was trying to make her feel better, and she ends up making me feel better.

"I won't argue with that. But, this is supposed to be all about you."

"I say it’s all about US. Let's get naked. Then grab our drinks and get in the tub and discuss our upcoming wedding. What do ya say?"

"Sounds like a perfect plan to me." She continues to help me out of my clothes as I try to keep myself under control. That is not an easy thing to do with a very beautiful, very naked Amber in front of me taking off my clothes. I grab our glasses and follow her to the tub. I get in first and she sits in front of me with her back to my chest. I hand her a glass and take one for myself.

“So what kind of wedding have you always dreamed of?" I ask, running my fingers through her silky hair. I just want to be her husband. It doesn't matter to me how it happens. The only thing I care about is that she is walking down an aisle to me. And there are "I dos" exchanged.

“Actually, ever since I was a little girl I have dreamed of a wedding here in the back yard," she says sheepishly. This surprises me. I would have pictured her wanting a church wedding. Not that either of us are religious, but her grandparents were.

“Remember when we were eight and you made me play wedding in the back yard?" I ask her. Even when I was six, I knew I was in love with her. Of course, I pretended I didn't want to play. Then, I remembered at the end you were supposed to kiss the bride. I couldn't pass that up. Yeah, even at six. I was a total horn dog. I was an early bloomer and it was all Amber's fault.

“I remember. You know the only reason I wanted to play wedding was so you would kiss me at the end." She turns and smiles at me. Damn she was a little vixen, even back then. Who would have known? Not me … seeing as it took me until ninth grade to finally realize she had feelings for me.