Romancing My Love (Love in Bloom: The Bradens) Contemporary Romance (26 page)

Each of Luke’s siblings stood and said something sweet about Daisy and Luke, and when their mother rose, the room grew quiet. All eyes were on Catherine, but it was the look in her children’s eyes that nearly stopped Rebecca’s heart. Their love for their mother stirred her longing for her own mother. Pierce, who was sitting beside her again, wrapped his strong arm around the back of her neck, his large palm pressed flat against her cheek, and drew her to his chest. He kissed the top of her head, and as his mother spoke about Luke and Daisy and said things Pierce should be listening to, he wrapped his other hand around Rebecca and touched his forehead to hers.

He held her so tightly she could barely breathe. How did he always know exactly what she needed? She needed to feel Pierce’s protective, loving arms, his heart beating strong and sure, as her chest ached with sadness for the mother she’d never hold again. And from his embrace, his love filled every empty crevice that it could claim with the promise of the future she and Pierce were destined to have.

“I’m sorry, babe,” he whispered. “I know you miss your mom. I can’t bring her back, but I’m here, I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Rebecca felt a tap on her shoulder and she turned, her eyes damp, too. Pierce’s mother held her arms open and motioned for Rebecca to come to her.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry
. She felt Pierce’s grip ease, his hands slide from her back as she rose to her feet, and then Catherine’s arms were around her and her soft cheek was pressed to Rebecca’s.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Let those tears fall. Pierce loves you, so we all love you. That’s how families work.”

Sweetie. Sweet girl
.
Mi dulce niña. Family.

She felt a wall of muscle press against her back.
Pierce
. She heard Daisy and Callie whispering, then felt Callie’s arm squeeze between her and Pierce. Daisy did the same on the other side.

“Aw. I want to hug her, too.” Emily pushed herself into the fold.

Rebecca heard Jake, Luke, and Wes talking. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it didn’t matter. She could only imagine how ridiculous they looked, all huddled together around
poor Pierce’s girlfriend who’d lost her mother
.

She couldn’t hold the thought long, because she didn’t believe it. This family would no sooner pity her than they’d turn away from helping one another.

“See? I told you they were the best family ever,” Daisy said.

“It’s like I have three sisters now,” Emily said. “Rebecca, you can share my mom anytime you want.”

“That’s right, honey. Whether you need a hug or someone to go watch a chick flick with, I always have room for one more person in my heart,” Catherine said as she drew apart, and the others followed suit.

Except Pierce.

He pulled her in closer and pressed his cheek to hers. “I was just thinking of the night I first saw you storming across the bar. You were so beautiful. I think I knew I loved you right then.” He paused, and as his words took hold, he asked, “That night you told me that your mom had warned you about men like me,” Pierce whispered. “Was she right?”

Rebecca looked into his smoldering dark eyes and swallowed against the emotions threatening to steal her voice. While the others talked and poured more champagne, Rebecca wasn’t embarrassed over missing her mother, or the group hug, and she wasn’t worried about anyone else hearing what she was about to say.

“I was confused,” she began. “You weren’t the guy she warned me about. You were the guy she hoped I’d meet—the one who loves me as much as she did.”

Five weeks later…

PIERCE AND REBECCA arrived at Punta Allen just before sunset and settled into their beachfront cabana. Punta Allen was a small Mayan fishing village at the end of the Boca Paila peninsula. With fewer than five hundred residents and only one way in or out, the village didn’t need much to maintain its population. Punta Allen was on the opposite end of the luxury spectrum from the resorts Pierce owned and was used to, but even though the village was run by two generators that ran for three hours only in the morning and seven hours in the evening, from the moment they stepped onto the white sandy beach, he felt as though they’d found the most romantic spot on earth.

The cabana was made of concrete, with two columns out front supporting a roof over a small patio area—minus the patio. An inviting white hammock hung from the columns, and although the cabana was built on the beach, there were pockets of verdant foliage with long spiky leaves and full spiny bushes. Tall palm trees made the simple, one-room cabana feel like it was on an island by itself.

Rebecca’s hair was piled on her head in the messy bun he loved so much. Quintessential Rebecca style—thrown up in a hurry with a few tendrils falling in gentle waves around her face. She looked sexy as hell. While she unpacked, he went into the small bathroom with a suitcase that contained her mother’s urn and the items he needed to open it. When Rebecca was ready to spread the ashes, he wanted it to be easy for her. Removing the lid was no easy feat—or so he’d been told—and he didn’t want her to become upset if she had trouble. They’d talked about it ahead of time, and Rebecca had been relieved that he offered.

He set the urn on the sink and dipped a Q-tip into fingernail polish remover; then he ran the wet end along the lid to remove the gluing. It took several minutes to clear enough glue away to allow the next step. He used a butter knife to gently pry open the space between the lid and the urn, then repeated the acetone process until the lid finally came off. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of Rebecca. On the trip over, she’d said that she had a surprise for him, and as he held her mother’s urn, he couldn’t fathom that she was thinking of him at all during such an emotional time. He thought of their first date, when she’d told him that her boss at the bar hated how she talked to the customers. He remembered the way she’d unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse and let her hair down as she’d said,
I think people come into bars to unload, you know? Talking seemed to help them…

He smiled. That was Rebecca, always thinking of others. She had a heart the size of the moon, a spirit as bright as the sun, and he wanted—
God, he wanted
—to give her the happy world she deserved.

He found her standing by the screen door, looking out over the beach.

“Are you ready, babe?”

Rebecca had opened up to him so much over the last few weeks, and she’d been sure of her need and readiness to say goodbye to her mother, but Pierce was still worried. Rebecca had insisted that she was ready, and now, as she glanced at her mother’s urn, and her eyes warmed, he saw relief pass over her face. She really was ready.

“Yeah,” she said just above a whisper. “I am.”

She held his hand tightly, rubbing her thumb over his as they carried the urn onto the beach. Her feathery thumb stroking was one of her nervous mannerisms he’d picked up on over the last few weeks, as they’d come to know each other so well that sometimes words weren’t necessary to convey their thoughts. They’d become perfectly in tune to each other with every aspect of their lives, from their work ethics to how they spent their downtime. Pierce had taken to discussing his business ventures with Rebecca. She was like a sponge, listening intently, scribbling notes, and pulling out the information from some secret compartment in her brain weeks later after hashing it over in her mind day after day. She always came back with a unique perspective. Rebecca had a knack for thinking outside the box and conveying her thoughts succinctly. She also had the ability to drive him out of his mind. In the midst of an in-depth conversation, she’d climb onto his lap with a playful smile and lavish him with sensual kisses, while he rattled on about whatever issues they were discussing. She’d kiss his cheeks, his lips, his forehead, nibble his ear, and whisper all the things she wanted to do to him until all his blood rushed south and he couldn’t think past loving her.

The sand was warm beneath their feet as they made their way across the beach toward the dock.

“I can almost see her here, as a little girl, running across the beach toward the dock with her hair hanging in a thick, tangled mass.” Rebecca smiled. She’d been much more relaxed lately, and he assumed some of that came with the settling of her life, but he’d seen other changes that could only be attributed to her believing, really knowing in her heart, that he loved her unconditionally and letting go of all of the lingering worry that she never voiced but he knew she felt—that at any time, her stable, happy life could spiral out of control and she’d lose everything as she’d lost her mother and too many jobs to count. She talked more about her childhood and, thankfully, her mother. Pierce felt as though he knew Magda Rivera, and he desperately wished he could have met the woman who’d raised such a remarkable, loving daughter.

“When was the last time your mother was here?” he asked as they stepped onto the weathered wooden dock that eased over the lagoon like a lonely, forgotten moment.

“I think she was seven. I like it here, Pierce. It feels
right
being here with you. Thank you.” She wrapped her hand around his biceps and snuggled in close as they neared the end of the dock where the small boat he’d arranged for was waiting.

“I was just thinking the same thing. And wondering if we should buy the entire village.” He flashed a joking smile, and she bumped him teasingly with her shoulder.

“I’m going to stop telling you when I like things if you’re going to offer to buy them all.”

When they were on the plane he’d chartered, she’d said how nice it was, and he’d offered to buy one. He was only half kidding. He’d do anything for Rebecca.

“Don’t ever stop telling me. I’ll try to stop offering, but it’s hard. I want you to be happy.”  They sat beneath the
palapa
roof at the end of the dock with their legs hanging over the turquoise water as it lapped at the pilings. Pierce had always thought that his brothers were his best friends, but in Rebecca he’d found a different type of best friend. He didn’t have to hide or pretend with her. If he was angry, sad, elated, or horny, her love for him was as strong as his was for her—and she called him on his shit and didn’t let him brood over issues that he couldn’t control. He knew without a doubt that whatever they faced, they’d get through it together.

Rebecca rested her head against his shoulder. “All I need to be happy is time with you. Nothing else matters. We could live under a tree in the woods and I’d be happy.”

He knew it was true because he felt the same way. “I’d build you a tree house.”

“Would you wear work boots, cutoff shorts, and no shirt? Because
that
I could get into.” She placed her hand on his thigh.

Pierce laughed. “You know I would, but then you’d have to wear a little Tarzan and Jane type of getup. Fair’s fair.” He knew she’d do that, too. Rebecca was his every sexual fantasy come true. She was a sensual, passionate woman who knew what she liked and wasn’t afraid to ask for it. From the bedroom to the boardroom, they were perfectly matched.

Rebecca rose to her feet and pulled Pierce up. “Let’s go, Tarzan, before it gets dark and we get lost at sea.”

Pierce helped her into the rowboat and then handed her the urn before climbing in himself. He’d wanted to arrange for a bigger boat, but Rebecca had insisted that her mother was a simple woman and would want a simple sendoff. She didn’t want the noise of a motor or the distraction of luxury.

He rowed them away from the dock. Rebecca sat facing him, with her mother’s urn on her lap, her arms wrapped protectively around it and her bare feet between his.

“Isn’t it weird that we lived in Reno my whole life, but Mom talked about this place so much that it felt like I’d been here? I feel like I’ve come back to a place I loved. In elementary school, kids used to draw pictures of the places they’d gone on vacation. Disney World, camping, their grandparents’ houses. I used to draw pictures of this beach that were based solely on what she’d told me.”

“I think it’s nice that you were close enough to your mom to become so entrenched in someplace she loved. I’m sure she’s smiling down on you now, proud of the woman you are.”

Rebecca dropped her eyes to the urn, and the edges of her lips lifted into a smile. “This is far enough out.”

They were a couple hundred feet from shore. Pierce settled the oars in the boat and placed his hands on Rebecca’s knees. This was one of those times when words weren’t necessary. Emotions sifted over Rebecca’s face. Her soft gaze narrowed, her brow furrowed just a little, and the edges of her mouth pinched tight. In the next breath, all that tension disappeared, and her lips parted. Her eyes remained on the urn, but she placed one delicate hand over Pierce’s and slid her fingertips into his palm.

He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

“This is it,” she whispered.

She lifted damp eyes to him, causing his to well with tears, too. His chest tightened, as he knew hers was, with a feeling of finality. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her until the pain went away—and he would, when she was ready. Her hands trembled as she picked up the urn.

He searched her eyes for an indication that she was really ready.

A single nod. A hard swallowing of emotions as she blinked against her tears.

Pierce cupped her cheek just to let her know he was there for her; then he placed his hands on top of hers and settled the urn onto his lap. He turned sideways, straddling the bench, and took Rebecca’s hand as she moved carefully between his legs, her back to his chest. He placed the urn between her legs and pressed his face to hers from behind. Warm tears slipped between their cheeks.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he whispered.

Rebecca reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. “I know. I’ve always known.”

He reached around her waist with both arms and opened the lid. Her neck bowed. The night was silent, save for the sounds of the water swishing against the sides of the boat, gently rocking the small vessel. He felt her body trembling against his chest, and he embraced her from behind.
I’m here, babe
.

She lifted her head, and he felt her hand stroke his; then she inched closer to the edge of the boat, holding tightly to his arms as he inched forward with her.

When she lifted the urn, he covered her hands with his, stabilizing it, and pressed his cheek to hers so she could feel his presence. She held the urn in front of her, still over the boat, and he wondered what she was thinking and if she was going to say anything to her mother. Each of his family members had wanted to come along, to be here for her. She’d become very close to his mother, Emily, Daisy, and Callie, who had brought her into what Pierce called their Private Girl Club, because they passed secrets by text and phone calls that made Rebecca giggle like a schoolgirl. He had asked her if she wanted to hold a ceremony, but Rebecca said her life with her mother had been private, and it wouldn’t feel right. She wanted to do this alone, with just the two of them.

He felt her shoulders rise as she drew in a deep breath and exhaled ratchety and slow.

“This isn’t the end, Mom,” she said just above a whisper. “This is me setting you free.” She lifted the urn with Pierce’s hands still holding hers, and she shook her mother’s ashes into the water. They floated on the surface, slowly darkening as they soaked up the sea. Rebecca brought the urn to her chest and pressed her back to Pierce’s chest again.

“This is me setting us free, too, Pierce. This is our beginning.” Tears streamed down Rebecca’s cheeks as she curled sideways against his chest and melted within his arms.

He didn’t know how long he held her as they drifted toward shore and the moon rose in the dark sky. He didn’t know when the sounds of the sea were replaced with the sounds of Rebecca’s heart beating against his, or how he managed to tie the rowboat to the dock. His mind was absorbed with helping Rebecca feel safe as he carried her back down the dock, across the sandy beach, and into the dark cabana. Sometime between
This is our beginning
and the moment he set her on the bed, he knew that tonight was the night he’d been waiting for.

He took a step away, and Rebecca reached for his hand.

“I’ll be right back, babe. I just want to go to the bathroom.” He hated lying to her, but there was no other way he could do this.

When he returned, she was lying beneath the sheet, her hair spread across the pillow, her bare shoulders calling out to him. He set his wallet on the nightstand, took off his clothes, and climbed in beside her. Her body was familiar and warm. She felt so damn good. She always felt so damn good.

“God, I love you, Becca.” The words were like a mantra in his mind—one he knew he’d never tire of.

He settled his lips over hers, kissing her tenderly, lovingly stroking her back to the curve of her rear, letting her guide their pace. She pressed her hips to his arousal and rolled onto her back. He was careful tonight. With all she’d been through, he didn’t want to force himself on her, or love her too roughly. He wanted her to feel loved, cared for. Cherished. She spread her legs, making room for him as he kissed her neck, her shoulders, and the tops of her beautiful, lean arms. He would never get enough of her. She tasted sweet and smelled of coconut lotion she’d bought at the airport. He wanted to satiate her every need. His hands traveled down her sides, gripping her waist as he lowered his mouth to her breasts and stroked her nipples to hard points, then settled his mouth around one and sucked the way she liked. He was rewarded with her writhing beneath him. Her breaths quickened, and she pushed his hand between her legs.