Page 101 of Love Wells Kept

“It’s been on the tip of my tongue for so long, but I wanted to make sure it wasn’t muscle memory or obligation or…I’m not saying it because I’m trying to remember, Kit. I’m saying it because I know.”

“You have no idea how badly I needed to hear that,” I admit.

For the first time since the moment Red walked into my kitchen that morning, my lungs can expand to full capacity, and the world around us is in full Technicolor.

I add, “We’re going to be okay.”

“Yeah, we are, Kit. We love each other…and I think that’s all it takes to be okay.”

He tilts my head, seeking my lips, brushing kisses over them. Careful, reverent, and tinged with the faintest hint of lemon. Salt and sugar coalesce on my tongue, and the slight scratch of his beard sends arousal trickling down my spine to settle in my core. My husband’s touch feels like a vow made all over again.

“I love you,” I murmur, eyes flickering open to meet his.

His thumb sweeps across the plane of my cheek, chasing the trails of fallen tears and clearing them away.

“I know you do.” His lips tug at the corners, stealing my heart and my soul entirely. “I love you, too.”

Jackson

The house is quiet in the way it only ever gets after bedtime as I tread cautiously down the stairs. My head’s still buzzing from trying to string together something resembling a story for the kids.

I couldn’t do it.

Lately Odessa’s been the one handling bedtime stories, sharing funny moments and fond memories—often embellished with fart sound effects and obvious lies that elicit giggles from her brother. On the nights she doesn’t feel up to it, I read the kids a book.

But tonight Rhett wasn’t having it. He insisted I be the one to tell them a story, and when Odessa tried to tell him she was doing it, the two got into a scrap that made my eye twitch and my palms sweat as I fought the urge to tell the both of them to shut up.

So I agreed to a damn story.

Odessa tucked herself into bed with her arms around that ragged old horse she sleeps with. And Rhett smugly parked himself right next to me. I made up a memory from when Rhett would’ve been too young to remember and, truthfully, I think even Odessa was questioning whether it was real or not. It wasn’t particularly funny and had some serious plot holes, but they stared up at me like I was their entire world. And in that pretend memory—one I want so badly to be real—they were mine.

I step into the kitchen and consider turning around when I see Austin and Red are hanging out here tonight.

But Kate spots me first and gives me a smile. “Kids asleep?”

I sigh. “Yeah, finally.”

Then I head straight for my empty spot at the table, letting my body go slack in the wooden chair. Austin and Red’s conversation about moving cattle comes to a halt, both of them turning to look at me.

“Barely survive bedtime?” Red asks from across the table.

“They insisted I tell them a real story tonight.” Shaking my head, I grunt. “Which is damn hard when you’re reading from a book missing ninety percent of the pages.”

“Kids don’t even notice, man. I skip pages in Hazel’s storybooks all the damn time.” He cracks open a pistachio from the bowl in the center of the table and pops it in his mouth.

“I don’t know….” I force a breath out through my nose. “It feels like I’m failing them.”

Austin clears his throat at the far end of the table, folding his arms. “You’re not.”

“But it feels that way.”

I’ve found my way back to Kate and thank God for that. But the kids…It feels like they’re drifting off to sea, and I’m still standing on the dock, promising I’ll catch up when I don’t even know how to swim.

Kate slides me a glass of water before taking the seat next to mine. Her cold hand falls to my lap to melt some of the anxiety burrowed in my chest.

“Odessa kept giving me this look tonight like she was trying so hard to be nice about the fact that my story was awful.”

Austin chuckles. “Damn, she must’ve had to work hard at that.”