Eyes Wide Open
Page 75
“I more than like it. I love that we get to be here.” She turned back around and leaned into me again and looked at the house some more.
“I’m very glad about that, Mrs. Blackstone, because after we were here together I couldn’t get this place out of my head. I wanted to bring you back here. The inside needs some attention, but the bones are good and the foundation stone-solid, perched up here on the rocks. This house has been here a long time and hopefully it will still be here a long time from now.”
I slipped the small envelope from my pocket and brought it around to hold in front of her so she could see it.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“It’s your wedding present. Open it.”
She opened the flap and tipped the odd assortment into her hand—some modern, some very old. “Keys?” She turned around, her eyes wide with shock. “You bought the house?!”
I couldn’t hold back my grin. “Not exactly.” I turned her to face the house again, drawing my arms around her from behind and resting my chin on the top of her head. “I bought us a home. For you and me, and for peaches, and any other raspberries or blueberries that might come along later. This place has plenty of rooms to put them in.”
“How many blueberries are we talking here? Because I’m looking at a really big house that must have a lot of rooms to fill.”
“That, Mrs. Blackstone, remains to be seen, but I can assure you that I will give you my very best efforts at filling a few.”
“Ahh, then what are you standing out here for? Hadn’t you better get cracking?” She asked smugly.
I swooped her up, and started walking. Fast. If she was ready for HoneymoonLand then I was not the fool to be delaying matters. Again, not a moron.
My legs swallowed up the rest of the path quickly, and then the stone steps of our new country house. “And the bride goes over the threshold,” I said, pushing the heavy oaken door with my shoulder.
“You’re getting more and more traditional all the time, Mr. Blackstone.”
“I know. I kind of like it.”
“Oh, wait, my package! I want you to open your gift too. Set me down. The lighted foyer will be perfect for you to see them with.”
She handed me the black box tied with silver ribbon, looking very happy, and very lovely in her wedding lace and the heart pendant sitting at her throat. I had a small flash of the memory of what she’d endured that night with Westman, but I pushed it down and far away. There was no place in this moment for anything ugly tonight. This was a time for joy.
I lifted the lid and pulled back some black tissue paper. The photographs revealed underneath stopped my heart. Brynne beautifully naked in many artistic poses, wearing nothing but her wedding veil.
“For you, Ethan. For your eyes only,” she whispered. “I love you with all of my heart, and all of my mind, and with all of my body. It all belongs to you now.”
I had trouble speaking at first, so I just stared at her for a moment and counted my blessings.
“The pictures are beautiful,” I told her finally when I could get the words out. “They’re beautiful, baby, and I . . . understand why now.” Brynne needed to make beautiful pictures with her body. It was her reality. I needed to possess her—to take care of her in order to fulfill some dominant requirement within my psyche—my reality.
“I wanted you to have these pictures. They’re for you only, Ethan. Only you will ever see them. They are my gift to you.”
“I hardly have words.” I looked through the poses slowly, soaking up the images and savoring them. “I like this one where you’re looking over your shoulder, and your veil is down your back.” I studied the photograph some more. “Your eyes are open . . . and you are looking at me.”
She held my gaze with her beautiful multicolored eyes, which surprised me all the time with their changing hues, and said, “They are looking at you, but my eyes have really only been opened since you came into my world. You gave me everything. You made me really want to see what was around me, for the first time in my adult life. You made me want you. You made me want . . . a life. You were my greatest gift of all, Ethan James Blackstone.” She reached up to touch my face and held her palm there, her eyes showing me so much of what she felt.
I covered her palm on my cheek with my hand. “As you were for me, my beautiful American girl.”
I kissed my lovely bride in the foyer of our new old stone house for a long time. I wasn’t in a hurry and neither was she. We had the luxury of forever right now and we would take it for the precious gift that it was.
When we were ready, I picked her up again, loving her soft weight resting against my body, and the tensing of my muscles as I carried her up the stairs to our awaiting suite where I would hold her all night long. Holding on to her in order to hold me up. The concept just made sense for me. I couldn’t explain it to anyone else, but I didn’t need to explain anything. I knew what we meant to each other.
Brynne was my greatest gift. She was the first person to really see inside me. Only her eyes seemed even capable of doing it. Only my Brynne’s eyes.
“I’m very glad about that, Mrs. Blackstone, because after we were here together I couldn’t get this place out of my head. I wanted to bring you back here. The inside needs some attention, but the bones are good and the foundation stone-solid, perched up here on the rocks. This house has been here a long time and hopefully it will still be here a long time from now.”
I slipped the small envelope from my pocket and brought it around to hold in front of her so she could see it.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“It’s your wedding present. Open it.”
She opened the flap and tipped the odd assortment into her hand—some modern, some very old. “Keys?” She turned around, her eyes wide with shock. “You bought the house?!”
I couldn’t hold back my grin. “Not exactly.” I turned her to face the house again, drawing my arms around her from behind and resting my chin on the top of her head. “I bought us a home. For you and me, and for peaches, and any other raspberries or blueberries that might come along later. This place has plenty of rooms to put them in.”
“How many blueberries are we talking here? Because I’m looking at a really big house that must have a lot of rooms to fill.”
“That, Mrs. Blackstone, remains to be seen, but I can assure you that I will give you my very best efforts at filling a few.”
“Ahh, then what are you standing out here for? Hadn’t you better get cracking?” She asked smugly.
I swooped her up, and started walking. Fast. If she was ready for HoneymoonLand then I was not the fool to be delaying matters. Again, not a moron.
My legs swallowed up the rest of the path quickly, and then the stone steps of our new country house. “And the bride goes over the threshold,” I said, pushing the heavy oaken door with my shoulder.
“You’re getting more and more traditional all the time, Mr. Blackstone.”
“I know. I kind of like it.”
“Oh, wait, my package! I want you to open your gift too. Set me down. The lighted foyer will be perfect for you to see them with.”
She handed me the black box tied with silver ribbon, looking very happy, and very lovely in her wedding lace and the heart pendant sitting at her throat. I had a small flash of the memory of what she’d endured that night with Westman, but I pushed it down and far away. There was no place in this moment for anything ugly tonight. This was a time for joy.
I lifted the lid and pulled back some black tissue paper. The photographs revealed underneath stopped my heart. Brynne beautifully naked in many artistic poses, wearing nothing but her wedding veil.
“For you, Ethan. For your eyes only,” she whispered. “I love you with all of my heart, and all of my mind, and with all of my body. It all belongs to you now.”
I had trouble speaking at first, so I just stared at her for a moment and counted my blessings.
“The pictures are beautiful,” I told her finally when I could get the words out. “They’re beautiful, baby, and I . . . understand why now.” Brynne needed to make beautiful pictures with her body. It was her reality. I needed to possess her—to take care of her in order to fulfill some dominant requirement within my psyche—my reality.
“I wanted you to have these pictures. They’re for you only, Ethan. Only you will ever see them. They are my gift to you.”
“I hardly have words.” I looked through the poses slowly, soaking up the images and savoring them. “I like this one where you’re looking over your shoulder, and your veil is down your back.” I studied the photograph some more. “Your eyes are open . . . and you are looking at me.”
She held my gaze with her beautiful multicolored eyes, which surprised me all the time with their changing hues, and said, “They are looking at you, but my eyes have really only been opened since you came into my world. You gave me everything. You made me really want to see what was around me, for the first time in my adult life. You made me want you. You made me want . . . a life. You were my greatest gift of all, Ethan James Blackstone.” She reached up to touch my face and held her palm there, her eyes showing me so much of what she felt.
I covered her palm on my cheek with my hand. “As you were for me, my beautiful American girl.”
I kissed my lovely bride in the foyer of our new old stone house for a long time. I wasn’t in a hurry and neither was she. We had the luxury of forever right now and we would take it for the precious gift that it was.
When we were ready, I picked her up again, loving her soft weight resting against my body, and the tensing of my muscles as I carried her up the stairs to our awaiting suite where I would hold her all night long. Holding on to her in order to hold me up. The concept just made sense for me. I couldn’t explain it to anyone else, but I didn’t need to explain anything. I knew what we meant to each other.
Brynne was my greatest gift. She was the first person to really see inside me. Only her eyes seemed even capable of doing it. Only my Brynne’s eyes.
