by R. C. Martin
“No,” I interrupt her. “We’re not going to play the what if game. There’s no point, sweet girl. For now, your parents are fighting. We have to think positively.”
She nods; but when she looks up at me, she’s crying again. “The last time we spoke to each other, we fought. They were upset that I was quitting my job and moving away. They didn’t understand and I couldn’t explain it any better. When I left, we weren’t on good terms. I don’t even remember the last time I told them I loved them.”
“I do,” I assure her, reaching up to wipe away her tears. “Twenty minutes ago.”
“That doesn’t count! They didn’t hear me.”
“Says who? Sarah, so far, the doctors have had nothing to report except for improvements in their conditions. I know you’re scared, but you’re not alone. I’m right here and tomorrow we’re going to go back first thing in the morning. I’m praying and believing that they’ll be even better than they were when we left them.”
“Yeah. Okay. Yeah.”
“You okay?” I ask, propping my forehead against hers.
She cups her hands around my cheeks as she sighs. “Just keep saying stuff like that. I need to hear it.”
“I will,” I promise.
Sarah takes my hand and leads me into the house. It’s dark, so I don't really see too much of it as she guides me to the second level and into the first room on the left. She tells me that it used to be her room until her mom turned it into a guest room. I hum my understanding as I take a cursory look around.
“I’m going to take a shower. I smell like hospital.”
“Alright,” I say, placing our bag on the bed. I open it up and dig through it. “Looks like I packed my shampoo and your conditioner.”
She smiles faintly before taking hold of the bottom of my shirt. As she begins to head for the door, she drags me along with her. “Bring them both.” As soon as she flips on the light in the bathroom, she goes to turn on the water. I admire her as she strips out of her clothes before she looks at me curiously. “Are you just going to watch? Because I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t mind keeping me company. I’m not ready to be alone yet.”
She doesn’t have to say another word.
As we stand under the water, she props her body against mine and breathes deeply—slowly. I can see her day rolling off of her back. After a couple minutes, I grab the shampoo and start to wash her hair, making sure to massage her scalp and her neck as I do so. She moans and, even though I know she doesn’t mean to, she stirs my dick to life. I ignore it, expecting nothing from her tonight.
When she turns to rinse the shampoo from her hair, her eyes travel up and down my body. She runs her tongue across her bottom lip before pulling it between her teeth and I feel myself grow harder. “I can’t help it,” I tell her, reaching out to ease her lip free. “You’re gorgeous, baby, and my dick doesn’t lie. But don’t worry about it.”
“I—” She takes a step closer to me. “I can’t help it either.” Taking my hand, she trails my fingers between her legs.
I fucking love it when she does that.
“Sunshine—we don’t—”
“I need you,” she whispers, pressing her tits against my chest. “I just need to feel you. I want to feel something good. Please? Please, Brandon?”
My sweet girl should never have to beg.
I respond with a kiss. She hums her approval as she wraps her arms around me. We start off slow; but when I deepen the kiss, her mouth turns greedy. Suddenly impatient myself, I prop her up against the wall and slide into her. She’s so warm, tight, and wet, I can’t silence the groan of desire that escapes me. She locks her ankles behind my back as she tangles her fingers in my wet mane.
She reaches for my mouth once more and I don’t deny her, my hips finding a steady rhythm as I glide in and out of her. We take our time, savoring the moment—savoring each other until we come together. Even after I start to go soft inside of her, she clings to me.
“Brandon?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“I don’t ever want to be without you. Remember that. Don’t ever be reckless or stupid, and do everything within your power to avoid reckless and stupid people. Okay?”
“Sarah, I—”
“No,” she mutters, looking me square in the face. “Just promise you’ll be careful.”
I study her for a moment, sweeping wet strands of hair out of her eyes. I know that none of us are promised tomorrow—which is why we should live each day to the fullest. I might not be able to promise her that nothing will ever happen to me, but I know of one promise I’ll be sure to never break.
“Sweet girl, I’ll fight for you—for us—everyday, no matter what that looks like. I don’t ever want to be without you, either.”
“Thank you.”
“Let’s get you to bed, Sunshine. It’s time you got some sleep.”
I’M STARTLED OUT OF my sleep at the sound of the doorbell. I don’t recognize the sound until the culprit at the door presses the button for what must be the third time, successfully waking Brandon, too.
“What time is it?” he grumbles.
I reach for my phone to check. “Six,” I tell him, climbing out of bed.
“Who rings the doorbell at six o’clock on a Sunday morning?”
“I have no idea.”
Once I’m on my feet, I look down at myself to assess my appearance. I’m in a pair of panties and one of Brandon’s t-shirts. The front reads, All Who Wander are Not Lost. For just a second, I pause to let those words take shape in my mind. The phrase seems to describe my current state of life in a way I hadn’t thought of before.
I’m pulled from my thoughts when the insistent person at the front door starts knocking.
“Maybe I should get it,” says Brandon as he gets up and pulls on a pair of jeans. He runs his fingers through his hair and I wonder what mine looks like as I shake my head.
“Whoever it is must know my parents. I’ll get it,” I begin to say as I start to leave the room. I’m too tired to care what I look like. Whoever’s so hell bent on getting my attention will have to excuse me for my you-just-made-me-get-out-of-bed attire.
Brandon comes with me, looking far too sexy for first thing in the morning, and I wonder if I should reconsider letting him greet our visitor. He stops me before I absentmindedly reach for the handle and looks through the peephole. “She brought breakfast,” he says before opening the door.
I gasp at the sight of Addie standing impatiently on the front porch.
“Goodness! I thought I was going to have to find a window to crawl through or something.”
“Twinkles? What—what are you doing here?” I sputter.
She gives me a sympathetic look as she shrugs her shoulders. “When your best friend’s parents get in an accident that’s so horrible that both of them are incapacitated, you hop on a plane and come home.”
I steal the box that she’s carrying and hand it to Brandon before I wrap her in a gigantic hug. I can’t believe that she’s here! As she returns my embrace with a hearty squeeze, I take back every ill thought I had about the person who forced me out of bed. That person is Addie and I’m beyond thrilled that she’s here.
“I think I’ll go try and find some coffee,” says Brandon.
I pull away from Addie, remembering that I’m not the only half-naked person in the room. “Okay. The kitchen is just that way. My parents keep their coffee in the freezer.”
“Got it.” He squeezes my shoulder and nods at Addie before he leaves us at the door.
“That’s Brandon?” Addie whispers. “Why don’t I remember him being that hot?”
A smirk pulls at my lips as I close us inside. “I asked myself the same question a few weeks ago.” I take her hand as I head for the stairs. “Come on. I’ll catch you up on everything while I get dressed.”
Once in the room, she sits on the edge of the bed. I rummage through the bag that Brandon threw together while I piece together the details of my pa
rents accident. Relaying the information just reminds me of how much I don’t know. There’s so much waiting in recovery. Not to mention, what happens next? As they start to heal, when they get to come home—because I’m thinking positively and believing that they’ll be home before we know it—what happens then? It’s an overwhelming thought.
I tell her as much as I run a brush through my hair.
“Well, looks like you’ve got someone to help you.”
“Yeah,” I say with a sigh, sitting beside her. I look down at my clothes and replay all the ways in which he’s taken care of me since he arrived at the hospital yesterday afternoon. “Brandon’s been amazing. I can’t even imagine going through this without him.”
She stares at me for a moment before sweeping her black hair behind her ears. “Things between you two…they seem a lot more serious than the last time we actually talked.”
I stop messing with my hair and take a breath before I admit, “I’m in love with him, Addie. He’s the one—the one I choose.”
“Are you—” She hesitates and I watch her eyes as they bounce around the room. “Are you sleeping with him?”
I’m not ashamed of my answer. Nevertheless, I pause before I speak. Talking about my sex life with Addie is not the same as talking about it with Aria. They come from two different sides of the spectrum. Addie was sure about Beckham when she was seventeen years old and yet they just started having sex a couple months ago. She waited for marriage. I didn’t. I’m not certain that’s something she can fully understand.
“Yes,” I tell her. “But that doesn’t have anything to do with—”
“Yes, it does,” she says. She smiles at me as she rests a hand on my knee. “I didn’t know how much sex would change my relationship with Beckham. I thought I did, but I was wrong. If you’re having sex with Brandon, it plays a huge part in how you feel. You’ve given him a piece of yourself—the most intimate and fragile piece of your heart.”
“But, Addie, I—”
“I’m not judging you. I swear, I’m not. If you’re happy, if you’re sure, if he loves you as much as you deserve, if he loves the Lord—then I’m happy, too.”
“All of those things are true,” I assure her.
“Good. Then be careful. Protect what you have. And know that I’m going to kick his ass if he ever hurts you. Just like with Avery, I’ve been waiting for you to find your guy. Your journey to get here—I just hate seeing you get hurt.”
“He won’t hurt me.” I shake my head to emphasize that truth.
“Okay. I think I’d like to re-meet him, then. Besides, it smells like he made coffee and I would love some.”
“Me, too.”
We find Brandon in the kitchen, standing at the toaster. He’s pulled his hair up, the way he likes it best, but he’s still shirtless.
I’m definitely not complaining.
Addie brought bagels and when he looks over his shoulder and spots us, he points at the two that have already been heated and covered in cream cheese. It makes me want to kiss him, so I do just that before reintroducing him to my best friend.
We don’t linger long. After we’ve all had our fill of coffee and bagels, Brandon gets dressed and we head over to the hospital. I call ahead and find out that my mom is doing a lot better and she’s no longer in the ICU. My dad is also improving, but they’ve kept him where he is so they can keep a close eye on him. This news fills me anew with hope and relief. I thank God for the progress that they’ve made in just one night.
Brandon makes a few calls on our drive. One to Joey, concerning Little Bird, one to Aunt Row, updating her on what we know about my parents right now, and one to his mother, explaining that we’ll have to reschedule our meet. I almost forgot all about it and I regret that circumstances have postponed our introduction.
Instead, Brandon will be meeting my parents for the first time.
I can hardly believe that a week ago, he and I were eating breakfast in bed and making love for the first time. Walking into the hospital, my fingers laced with his, it feels like it’s been ages since our lazy-love-Sunday. I miss that feeling—our intimacy coated in syrup and laughter and love. A part of me wishes I was there, in the past, instead of here, in the present. Then, as Brandon inquires about where we can find my mom and Addie gives me an encouraging smile, I accept the fact that not every day can be a lazy-love day; not every day will be easy. Some days are going to be horrible and I’m going to feel overwhelmed or sad or whatever—but it’s on those days when real love shines through.
Addie comes with us as we head to my mother’s new room. Before we go in, she tells me that she’ll wait outside and promises that she’ll keep my mom company when Brandon and I head up to see my dad. I thank her with a hug before I take Brandon’s hand once more.
He smiles down at me and I realize that this day comes with it’s own form of intimacy. Today, he’s becoming a part of my family—a truth that feels so right it makes my entire body break out in goose pimples. I can’t wait for my parents to meet him.
As I gaze up into his rich hazel eyes, I know that I’m looking at the man that I will love forever.
All who wander are not lost.
The memory of his t-shirt and that phrase makes its way to the forefront of my mind. I thought I was lost. I thought my mistakes had thrown me completely off course. I thought I was wandering around trying to find my way—but that’s not true. God promises that all things work together for the good of those who love him. Even though what happened with Luke changed the trajectory of my life, I wasn’t lost. I just needed to be redirected. Now I have Brandon, and the path that we’re traveling—it’s ours.
His and mine.
“You ready?” he asks with a wink.
I smile up at him. “Absolutely.”
Five Months Later
I LET OUT AN exasperated sigh as I open yet another box. I feel like I’ve opened every single box in this room and I haven’t found what I’m looking for yet. What makes it worse is that there are any boxes still left to unpack at all! It’s been two weeks since we moved. I honestly don’t have any idea where the time goes.
Then again—maybe if we could keep our hands off of each other, we’d be more productive. Six months with Brandon and I still feel like I can’t get enough. He’s always leaving me wanting more…
So much more.
It doesn’t take me long to discover that what I’m looking for isn’t in this box, either. I plop down in the middle of the room and look around, feeling defeated. Who knew two single people could have so much stuff? Our flat is absolutely perfect. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, huge kitchen. I smile thinking about how many places we turned down after we took one look at the kitchen. Lots of counter space was nonnegotiable. Bonus points for a double oven. We were patient and found a place with both.
Moving in the middle of a Colorado winter is a bitch, though. I hope not to do that ever again. Considering how happy we are here, I’m not too worried about it. This place was a good investment and I don’t see us moving until we’ve got too many rug-rats running around. That’s also something we’re not planning for yet.
It took my parents a little while to get used to the fact that Brandon and I were going to be living together. Or, should I say, living in sin together. I don’t blame them for their beliefs; I understand where they come from. Nevertheless, as far as Brandon and I are concerned, our commitment to always is something we’ve promised to each other and to God. Even still, until I’m sporting his last name, we won’t be having any children—much to the relief of my parents.
While they might not approve of our living arrangement, I am happy to report that they love my man almost as much as I do. Just after the accident, when they were both released from the hospital, I moved back home for a few weeks to take care of them. It ended up being really good for all of us. The time we spent together helped heal our relationship. It also gave them a chance to get to know Brandon. Every Saturday after he closed Little Bird, for
the whole month that I was staying with them, he would drive down and stay the night. We’d spend our Sundays together. We’d get up and go to my parents’ church and then come home to make brunch. Brandon even made beignets for us. They were amazing.
Though, I’m still completely partial to his blueberry crumble muffins.
Then, a couple hours before he’d have to make the drive back to Fort Collins, we’d sneak away. We found this dead end road on the outskirts of the suburb that was secluded enough for us to have some privacy. I now have very fond memories made in the back of his Camaro. Fast and sweaty, slow and breathtaking—I took him however I could get him and he loved me just the way I needed.
When my parents were well enough to manage on their own, I was thrilled to get back to Fort Collins. Talking to Brandon every day is not the same as baking with him or being in the same space as him every day. I missed that—I missed him—and I could hardly wait to get back to our routine. In a matter of weeks, half of my things had slowly migrated to his apartment. I was staying with him almost every night. The nights when we weren’t at his place, we were at mine. It was actually Millie who suggested I break our lease and find a place with Brandon.
And in a surprising turn of events, as soon as we told her we found a place, she told Sage he could move in. I swear, they’re the strangest couple—but they’re happy, which I love.
With a new home in a new year, Brandon started challenging me to redefine my dream—whatever that looked like. He was convinced that as much as he loved having me at Little Bird, he couldn’t get used to having me around forever. Owning a bakery is his dream; and while he’s happy to share it with me, he has selflessly encouraged me to pursue my own.
He’s told me many times that I was made for the classroom—that he could see it whenever I recounted memories from the year I spent teaching my third graders. Though, after the months that I had spent away from the classroom and in his kitchen, my heart felt divided. It wasn’t just about Brandon, either. It feels good to lose myself in the kitchen. I wasn’t sure that I could give up baking altogether. That’s when we came up with a new plan.
