Something Old, Rebecca Connolly [ebook reader for laptop TXT] 📗

The wind whipped between them, and Thomas stepped closer, bringing with him more warmth and protection from its sting. “It doesn’t matter,” he told her. “What does matter is that now there need be no distance between us. No barrier from loving you as I always should have done. No shame in my marrying you as I did. No guilt hanging about my ears. Lily, I feel as though I have washed the slate clean. There is much still to do to mend what has passed, but now I feel renewed and able to begin that mending. Would you let me try?”

Would she? The man had worked himself into a frenzy over something as little as money, had scraped and saved and secluded himself in a world entirely of money and business to regain his footing, but then he had also given her something. Something she had never wanted nor particularly needed, but something that, to him, made all the difference.

He had removed the obstacle keeping him from fully living in their marriage. From fully loving her. She’d had no obstacle but her own self-preservation and the acceptance of his behavior. Now he was asking her to accept this, both the money and himself, changed as he was.

And heaven help her, she loved him just as much for that.

She closed the distance between them, reaching for him and pulling him down to her until their lips collided. She might have been beyond words, but she was not beyond this.

He responded at once, releasing her hand and wrapping his arm around her waist. His lips were fervent and sure, almost confident in their intentions, and her depth of feeling poured out through her own. She gave and gave and gave, arching into his hold and sealing herself to him with all the power in her being. Her legs began to shake beneath her, and she folded her arms about his neck to secure herself there, unwilling to let go or falter.

He needed to know, he needed to feel, just how much she had longed for him, how badly she had wanted this. How much they both had missed. And how much there still could be.

He broke off with a faint gasp, touching his brow to hers as he fought for breath. “Mercy, my love,” he managed. “I’m about two strands away from complete madness and likely to burst into flame right here and now for wanting you.” He took in a breath before releasing it very slowly. “Mercy.”

Lily somehow found a laugh within her and very reluctantly lowered herself back to the ground, the soles of her feet protesting their change in position. “Wild and reckless, you said,” she whispered, sliding her arms down until her hands gripped his neck. “I believe this counts.”

Thomas groaned, shaking his head against her. “Don’t tease me, Lily. I’ve no restraint for this.”

“I don’t want restraint.” She arched up once more for a kiss, this one careful and short, but emphatic all the same. “I’m done with pretending in all its forms. I want something real.”

One of his hands reached for her cheek, his hold somehow gentle and fierce all at once. His thumb brushed along her jaw, then slid to her lower lip, dipping his thumb just below its fullness, a subtle gesture that seared the nape of her neck and pulled at the pit of her stomach. “This is real, my love. I’ve never felt anything more in my life.”

Lily all but purred in his hold, nuzzling against his palm. “Good. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for us. All I’ve ever dreamed of. Promise me we’ll keep it.”

“I promise,” he whispered, his fingers curling against her skin.

They stood there for a long moment, wrapped in the warmth of the exchange, in the admissions of the day, in the torrent of emotions and sensations roaring about and within them.

How she could know what Thomas was experiencing, Lily could not say, but she was confident that he was sharing every aspect of this connection with her. Every wave of need and sigh of relief, every unsteady heartbeat and catch of breath, every brush of heated fingers was felt by them both, as though they were one. As though they shared everything. As though they had been married only yesterday and yet for eons of time.

“We should go down to the beach,” Thomas said on a faint laugh. “Or we’ll never get there and back before dark.”

Lily nodded, smiling up at him. “And I am beginning to grow hungry.”

“Fie, my lady!” he cried, feigning outrage and rearing back with it. “Why did you not say so? A gentleman would never leave his lady to hunger!” He tutted, shaking his head and starting to walk again.

Skipping back to his side, Lily laughed airily and took his hand once more. “I was more agreeably occupied. Hunger did not come to the forefront.”

Thomas squeezed her hand, grinning at her. “I called you astonishing, did I not? Would it diminish the glory of that word if I also declared that you were adorable?”

“I shouldn’t think so,” she replied, pretending to give it some thought. “Adorable has a slightly more childish connotation, but it could still be true.”

“It is true.” He pursed his lips as he looked up at the cloud-dotted sky. “Hmm. What other words of praise might I bestow upon you?”

Lily gripped his upper arm with her free hand. “Oh, please, don’t! I cannot bear flattery, you know that! The beauty of your telling me such things is when they come unexpected, not in a list for recitation.”

Thomas kissed her hand. “All right, all right, no need to fuss. I’ll seek perfect opportunities to share my praises and be perfectly nonchalant at all other times. Would that comfort you?”

She nodded, leaning her head against him as they started on the path down toward the beach. “You need not be constantly indifferent, though. I’m rather fond of this playful, candid, disheveled version