Page 92 of Reverie
Hunter rubs his top lip again.
“Sure, I guess. He’s been hounding me to make the call for days now, but I can’t do it.”
I grab his hand, so grateful that he’s talking, but I also want him to feel good about offering up the info, like he’s in control.
“The plan is to meet there, set up the hand-off, put a tracker on her andsomeone,” Hunter waves his free hand wildly to indicate the uncertainty in the plan. “And then we pull Ella out. Maybe kill a few people in the meantime. Maybe not.”
I hum in response and rub his hand with gentle circles. Rub. Rub.
“Surely they’d expect us to do something like this, so the plan doesn’t make any sense,” he says.
I bite my lip but don’t stop rubbing his hand. When I think about it, of course, Hunter is right. The plan is far-fetched and way too damn simple. But…maybe, somehow, it’ll work because they won’t expect us to make the obvious choice.
...Maybe?
“What do you think is a better idea?” I offer.
He holds back his response for several moments before saying, “I don’t know.”
He pulls my hand to his mouth, kissing each knuckle with reverence. My heart thuds in my chest.
“I’m sorry, Sunbeam,” he says with his lips pressed to my flesh.
I want to cry, not just because I’m a hormonal mess, but because everything is so fucking overwhelming.
So I launch myself onto his body, straddling his waist, which causes him to fall into the mattress on his back.
“I love you so much it hurts, Hunter,” I say into his neck.
The words shake me because when stripped away, what am I really saying?
This love hurts.
He bands his arms around my back, bringing me even closer to him. “You have no idea how much I love you,” he says.
The words whisper over the flesh at my neck, and goosebumps rise on my arms.
“All I want is for you to be safe and for nothing to touch you anymore.” He rubs his cheek against mine.
“I want to give you Paris. I want to give you the cherry blossoms in spring. I want to take you sailing around the world and for us to deal with fussy babies and diapers and putting them to sleep so we could rush off and make love.”
I pull back to look at his face. “Hunter….”
“I want to give you every single one of your desires, Sunbeam. It feels like…it feels like if there’s one thing on this planet that I could do that’s good, it’s loving and cherishing you.”
My tears fall onto his chest, where they soak into the fabric of his T-shirt.
“Hunter,” I say. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of life when I don’t truly have you.”
The words are raw and honest, and in any other environment, I’d be embarrassed for having said them. But now,when it’s just me and him and our baby between us, there can only be space for honesty.
Hunter’s hands skim up my back, lifting my shirt, and I can’t resist grinding my core against him.
“How do you feel right now?” he asks, his tone deepening. I kiss his cheek, then give him a small caress of my lips against his.
“Definitely feeling good enough to have you inside me, H,” I say, grateful that I brushed my teeth and gargled some mouthwash.
His smile is crooked, and then, in a flash, he switches our positions. When I’m beneath him, Hunter pulls one of the throw pillows from the head of the bed and wedges it beneath my right hip.