Cherish Hard
Page 68
40
Dreams and Devotion
ÍSA’S LOWER LIP BEGAN TO quiver, but she didn’t speak.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” Sailor cupped her face, made sure she saw the sheer terror he felt at the thought of losing her. “I’ve been so tied to this idea of becoming a grand success that I forgot what it was all about in the first place—being there for the people I love. Sticking through the good and the bad. Never abandoning them.”
Silent tears rolled down Ísa’s face.
“But that great plan of mine?” he said, determined not to give himself any easy outs. “It’d have meant abandoning everyone. How can I be there for anyone when all I do is work? When I shove aside all other commitments? When the people I love hesitate to ask for my time because I’m too tired and too busy?”
Using his thumbs, he rubbed away her tears. More splashed onto the backs of his hands, her hurt as hot as acid. “Spitfire, please,” he begged, breaking. “I’ll let you punch me as many times as you want if you stop crying. With a big red glove. And you can post photos online.”
Ísa pressed her lips together, blinked rapidly several times. And pretended to punch him with one fist, the touch a butterfly kiss.
Catching her hand, he pressed his lips to it. “That’s more like my Ísa.” He wrapped his arms around her again. And then he told her the most important thing. “I realized that I could become a multimillionaire, but it would mean nothing if my redhead didn’t look at me the way she does now, if she expected to have to take care of everything alone like she’s always done—because her man was a selfish bastard who was never there.”
Ísa rubbed her nose against his. “You’re being very hard on future Sailor,” she whispered, her voice gone throaty.
“That dumbass deserves it,” Sailor growled. “He was going to put his desire to be a big man above his amazing, smart, loving redhead.” Thrusting his fingers into her hair, he stole a kiss. It tasted of salt, and that just infuriated him again. “I love you, Ísalind Rain. You are the most important part of my dream. Please tell me I haven’t fucked up beyond redemption?”
* * *
ÍSA COULD BARELY SPEAK. “IF I say you have?” she finally whispered with a smile.
“I’ll tell you how my cat died yesterday so you’ll feel sorry for me.” A downturned, pathetic face. “Poor Fluffy. I had him for twenty-three years. I walked him every day.”
Laughing wetly, she said, “I think a cat that geriatric has earned his rest.”
“Ísa.” And there it was, his emotions laid bare. No defenses. No walls. The love, the devotion in him, it gutted her.
Never, not in her wildest dreams, had she dared to imagine that she’d be that important to someone. As if she was air and without her, he couldn’t breathe.
“I love you too,” she whispered. “And I forgive future Sailor for being a dumbass.” Linking her arms around his neck, she spoke through the storm inside her. “In fact, I think future Sailor is going to be an incredible man I’ll adore more with each and every day.”
“Yeah?” His lips kicked up in that familiar smile, but there was a question in his eyes, a quiet hunger. “What’s he going to do?”
Ísa knew what he was asking her, what he needed her to tell him. “He’s going to be a man who works hard but who has time for the people he loves. And he definitely has time to get up to wicked things with a certain redhead.”
“I like this guy’s priorities already.”
“He’s also the kind of father who takes a turn doing the school run because he enjoys spending time with his child.” It was scary doing this, laying out her dreams, but Sailor had given her everything.
Ísa would be brave enough to give him the same back. “He has time to play with his baby, and to kiss his wife, and even if he forgets things now and then, or if he gets a little busy for a while, it’s all right because his wife and child and all the members of his family know they’re loved beyond measure.” Perfection had never been what Ísa wanted. “Because when it matters, he’s there. He sees the people who love him.”
Demon-blue eyes solemn, Sailor said, “I can do that.” It was a vow. “I can be that guy.”
“You already are,” Ísa whispered. “You’re my dream, Sailor.”
But Sailor shook his head. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, spitfire. I’m going to court the hell out of you.” After a meditative pause, he added, “Nakedness during said courting is optional but highly encouraged.”
He was wonderful. And he was hers.
Ísa felt like a kid in a candy store.
Tumbling him onto the sand, that muscled body hard and warm under her own, she said, “Tell me the truth.”
“About what?” His hands shaped her rear. “How much I love fondling you?”
“Shh.” She looked up with a pounding heart. “What if one of your parents comes out?” she asked, Devil Ísa suddenly turning into a scandalized prude who wouldn’t dream of doing anything naughty.
“I’ve caught them making out twice this summer alone.” Winking, Sailor tucked his hands inside her pajama pants. “We keep telling them to get a room.”
Not about to be distracted, Ísa pinned him with her gaze. “You’ve been working on your business plan for years.” It had been his driving ambition, the shining star on the horizon. “You really want to make it come true, don’t you?”
“Not at the cost of us” was the firm response, his hands equally firm where they massaged her weak, weak flesh.
Slipping off him, she lay on her back on the sand. Which left him free to come up over her. “I like this position too,” he said as he bent to kiss her neck.
“Sailor, this is serious.”
He looked up at her tone, his expression solemn. “I’m okay with the trade-off, spitfire. I get you. The rest is immaterial.”
But Ísa knew about dreams and about how much it hurt to give them up. Sailor had made hers come true with a raw passion she’d remember to her last breath. She wasn’t about to do any less for him. For her blue-eyed demon who looked at her as if she was his Christmas.
“Tell me your plan,” she said. “I won’t stop asking, so just give in and spill.”
Bracing himself on his forearm beside her, his free hand on her abdomen, Sailor narrowed his eyes. “I should’ve brought the handcuffs.”
“If you play nice,” Ísa said, “when we get back home, I’ll show you the ones I bought for you.”
His eyes glinted. Then he began to speak.
His plan was beautiful and detailed, and Ísa’s business brain flared at the simple brilliance of it. It was like Crafty Corners, a basic idea taken to the next level. But where Jacqueline’s breakthrough had been in crafts, Sailor’s focus was on plants. Specifically, on small gardening stores that didn’t just sell plants and other garden items but that became a community hub through a finely tuned program of events, classes, and hiring local.
The entire concept was based on building bonds and adapting to the needs of a specific area. No cookie-cutter shops. Each one would be unique, its personality formed by the local environment and community. As such, it would also feature the work of local artisans who created handcrafted items that could be used or placed in gardens, such as one-of-a-kind mosaics—thus drawing in another sector of the community.
Dreams and Devotion
ÍSA’S LOWER LIP BEGAN TO quiver, but she didn’t speak.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” Sailor cupped her face, made sure she saw the sheer terror he felt at the thought of losing her. “I’ve been so tied to this idea of becoming a grand success that I forgot what it was all about in the first place—being there for the people I love. Sticking through the good and the bad. Never abandoning them.”
Silent tears rolled down Ísa’s face.
“But that great plan of mine?” he said, determined not to give himself any easy outs. “It’d have meant abandoning everyone. How can I be there for anyone when all I do is work? When I shove aside all other commitments? When the people I love hesitate to ask for my time because I’m too tired and too busy?”
Using his thumbs, he rubbed away her tears. More splashed onto the backs of his hands, her hurt as hot as acid. “Spitfire, please,” he begged, breaking. “I’ll let you punch me as many times as you want if you stop crying. With a big red glove. And you can post photos online.”
Ísa pressed her lips together, blinked rapidly several times. And pretended to punch him with one fist, the touch a butterfly kiss.
Catching her hand, he pressed his lips to it. “That’s more like my Ísa.” He wrapped his arms around her again. And then he told her the most important thing. “I realized that I could become a multimillionaire, but it would mean nothing if my redhead didn’t look at me the way she does now, if she expected to have to take care of everything alone like she’s always done—because her man was a selfish bastard who was never there.”
Ísa rubbed her nose against his. “You’re being very hard on future Sailor,” she whispered, her voice gone throaty.
“That dumbass deserves it,” Sailor growled. “He was going to put his desire to be a big man above his amazing, smart, loving redhead.” Thrusting his fingers into her hair, he stole a kiss. It tasted of salt, and that just infuriated him again. “I love you, Ísalind Rain. You are the most important part of my dream. Please tell me I haven’t fucked up beyond redemption?”
* * *
ÍSA COULD BARELY SPEAK. “IF I say you have?” she finally whispered with a smile.
“I’ll tell you how my cat died yesterday so you’ll feel sorry for me.” A downturned, pathetic face. “Poor Fluffy. I had him for twenty-three years. I walked him every day.”
Laughing wetly, she said, “I think a cat that geriatric has earned his rest.”
“Ísa.” And there it was, his emotions laid bare. No defenses. No walls. The love, the devotion in him, it gutted her.
Never, not in her wildest dreams, had she dared to imagine that she’d be that important to someone. As if she was air and without her, he couldn’t breathe.
“I love you too,” she whispered. “And I forgive future Sailor for being a dumbass.” Linking her arms around his neck, she spoke through the storm inside her. “In fact, I think future Sailor is going to be an incredible man I’ll adore more with each and every day.”
“Yeah?” His lips kicked up in that familiar smile, but there was a question in his eyes, a quiet hunger. “What’s he going to do?”
Ísa knew what he was asking her, what he needed her to tell him. “He’s going to be a man who works hard but who has time for the people he loves. And he definitely has time to get up to wicked things with a certain redhead.”
“I like this guy’s priorities already.”
“He’s also the kind of father who takes a turn doing the school run because he enjoys spending time with his child.” It was scary doing this, laying out her dreams, but Sailor had given her everything.
Ísa would be brave enough to give him the same back. “He has time to play with his baby, and to kiss his wife, and even if he forgets things now and then, or if he gets a little busy for a while, it’s all right because his wife and child and all the members of his family know they’re loved beyond measure.” Perfection had never been what Ísa wanted. “Because when it matters, he’s there. He sees the people who love him.”
Demon-blue eyes solemn, Sailor said, “I can do that.” It was a vow. “I can be that guy.”
“You already are,” Ísa whispered. “You’re my dream, Sailor.”
But Sailor shook his head. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, spitfire. I’m going to court the hell out of you.” After a meditative pause, he added, “Nakedness during said courting is optional but highly encouraged.”
He was wonderful. And he was hers.
Ísa felt like a kid in a candy store.
Tumbling him onto the sand, that muscled body hard and warm under her own, she said, “Tell me the truth.”
“About what?” His hands shaped her rear. “How much I love fondling you?”
“Shh.” She looked up with a pounding heart. “What if one of your parents comes out?” she asked, Devil Ísa suddenly turning into a scandalized prude who wouldn’t dream of doing anything naughty.
“I’ve caught them making out twice this summer alone.” Winking, Sailor tucked his hands inside her pajama pants. “We keep telling them to get a room.”
Not about to be distracted, Ísa pinned him with her gaze. “You’ve been working on your business plan for years.” It had been his driving ambition, the shining star on the horizon. “You really want to make it come true, don’t you?”
“Not at the cost of us” was the firm response, his hands equally firm where they massaged her weak, weak flesh.
Slipping off him, she lay on her back on the sand. Which left him free to come up over her. “I like this position too,” he said as he bent to kiss her neck.
“Sailor, this is serious.”
He looked up at her tone, his expression solemn. “I’m okay with the trade-off, spitfire. I get you. The rest is immaterial.”
But Ísa knew about dreams and about how much it hurt to give them up. Sailor had made hers come true with a raw passion she’d remember to her last breath. She wasn’t about to do any less for him. For her blue-eyed demon who looked at her as if she was his Christmas.
“Tell me your plan,” she said. “I won’t stop asking, so just give in and spill.”
Bracing himself on his forearm beside her, his free hand on her abdomen, Sailor narrowed his eyes. “I should’ve brought the handcuffs.”
“If you play nice,” Ísa said, “when we get back home, I’ll show you the ones I bought for you.”
His eyes glinted. Then he began to speak.
His plan was beautiful and detailed, and Ísa’s business brain flared at the simple brilliance of it. It was like Crafty Corners, a basic idea taken to the next level. But where Jacqueline’s breakthrough had been in crafts, Sailor’s focus was on plants. Specifically, on small gardening stores that didn’t just sell plants and other garden items but that became a community hub through a finely tuned program of events, classes, and hiring local.
The entire concept was based on building bonds and adapting to the needs of a specific area. No cookie-cutter shops. Each one would be unique, its personality formed by the local environment and community. As such, it would also feature the work of local artisans who created handcrafted items that could be used or placed in gardens, such as one-of-a-kind mosaics—thus drawing in another sector of the community.
