Sunrise Fires

by LaBarge, Heather

  I took a deep breath. Ryan had chosen me; his mother didn’t need to. Yes, it would be nice, but in the end, what mattered was Ryan’s choice…and mine. Seeing his mother would be fine. I would love to see her and reassure her that I love her son and that he is in good hands. “When does she get here?”

  “She’ll be here any minute. And I am excited for you two to see each other again. You two are the most important women in my life.”

  “Your mother is an amazing woman, powerful and strong. I’ve always respected her. She sets the bar high for any woman who might hope to be in your life.”

  He smiled and kissed both of my hands.

  As our appetizers arrived, so did Mrs. Riverton. I immediately stood and hugged her. “Mrs. Riverton, it is so good to see you again.”

  She nodded. “You, too, Jen. How was London?”

  We took our respective seats at the table. “London was beautiful and productive. The weather is bitterly cold, but the city is beautiful always. And the store is coming along fine. I really think they hired the right guy to manage it.” Her face was soft and open, more welcoming than I had anticipated. “How have you been?”

  She waved me off. “Oh, fine. Fine. Always fine.”

  Conversation flowed easily, cordially through appetizers and dinner. Mrs. Riverton was such an amazingly regal woman, proud and strong, unwavering in her love and support of Ryan, but solidly a force to be reckoned with aside from him. She spoke of golfing the many courses around Las Vegas and the surrounding area, of planning her next trip with her retiree travel group, of the recent books she’d read, and of taking hikes up in Mount Charleston. I admired her and thought that her inner strength and confidence made her still one of the most attractive and sexy women I knew. I felt at ease by the time I’d ordered a cappuccino for dessert.

  “So then,” she began with a voice a bit louder and more stern than dinnertime conversation. “How about you two?”

  I looked at Ryan; he offered no shield. I swallowed and looked back at her. She dabbed the edges of her mouth with her napkin and looked only at me. It was clear that she intended for me to give her the update and not Ryan. “I love your son, Mrs. Riverton, you know that.”

  “And I see he loves you, too.” Her eyes cut to the flowers in the vase beside her. “Is that enough, do you think?”

  I looked at my palms. “It’s not enough without patience and effort and introspection….” I fumbled through the words, and no matter how hard I stared at my hands, I couldn’t find a script there either. “Listen, Mrs. Riverton, I’m not perfect. But I am learning, and I think that my relationship with Ryan has potential that I have with no one else. Not before him, not when we were separated, not any time in my future. Ryan is who I want to be with. And I think that decisiveness is where you will find that love is upheld and strengthened.” I exhaled and smiled at her. I felt good about having stood up for myself and for the knowledge that what I was saying was the truth that she needed to hear.

  “I know that you love each other, Jen. And, to be fair, my son’s feelings have never wavered. When we met at the coffee shop, I spoke as a mother protecting a son whom you devastated. Today, I sit here as a woman in awe of the way you two love each other.” She blinked away tears forming at the corners of her eyes. “You two remind me of my Jim and me early on…” Her voice cracked, and Ryan reached for her hand.

  “I am so flattered that you can see glimmers in us of the magic that you and Mr. Riverton shared. I can only hope that Ryan and I can grow into the couple that you two were.”

  We talked a bit more over coffee about a number of things, including the hotel where they were staying. I offered for them to stay with me, but of course, Mrs. Riverton refused. “Of course, I am sure Ryan will stay. I am a third wheel to that. Besides, I made plans to visit my friend Norma; she lives in a senior’s apartment community in Rancho San Diego.”

  “Oh…? I didn’t know you still had friends down here.”

  “Never lost touch. And now with Jim gone, seems I am in need of the company.”

  “It is so nice that you have your friends.” I said. “Still, would you like to have brunch the day after tomorrow?”

  “I would love that,” She replied graciously.

  I smiled though, truly, it beamed from my soul. My heart felt so full I thought it might burst.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  And so, the weeks turned to months and seasons changed. Ryan and I became stronger and more sure of ourselves and our love over that time, and somehow, the distance seemed like nothing anymore. We spent the holidays in Vegas with his mother, and the spring brought him to San Diego most weekends. I was living in a whirlwind of bliss and joy unimaginable when Ryan and I began this journey.

  It was on an early summer morning, as I sat pondering the world and my blessings alone on the beach. The sun was not yet rising, and it was just me and the gulls sitting happily on a blanket, with my toes buried in the cold sand. The seagulls cackled a greeting, and I smiled into the summer dawn air. Ryan still slept in the tent. I’d wake him soon enough. I just needed a few more minutes. For now, I was enjoying keeping company with the gulls.

  I pulled my hooded sweatshirt a little tighter around me and gave myself a hug. The brisk air of an ocean side morning was refreshing, inspiring. Inhaling deeply, I let the salted-sea smell fill my nose and lungs.

  Good morning, world, I thought, and I smiled at the idea that I could possibly greet the world all at once. But the ocean always made me feel that way, like I was a part of the universal energy, and we were all communing, even a sleepy Ryan back there in the tent. I would wake him before the sunrise, but I had a couple more minutes until then.

  “Good morning, beautiful.”

  I jumped, startled, and settled into another smile.

  Ryan.

  His love was warming. My soul alight.

  “Hey, baby,” I said as he settled on the blanket beside me.

  “I didn’t like waking up alone. This little scene feels like déjà vu.” He draped an arm around me and leaned into my shoulder.

  “I…swear I was going to wake you.” My eyes were on the silhouetted ocean and the swells and crests of the waves. The massive heaving and the tender lapping of the ocean upon the shore were even more powerful and moving here in the grey just before dawn. “Baby, in just another minute or two—”

  “I know, Jen. I know.” He brushed a tear away from my cheek and replaced it with a kiss.

  I lay back on the blanket, smiling. I hadn’t even realized that tears were falling. The sky was barely beginning to be visible. Stars were disappearing, but the hues of daylight were not yet here. I looked at Ryan, my eyes meeting his. Smiling, I tugged him toward me, “C’m’ere, ya big lug.”

  And when he kissed me, the ocean disappeared. There was no sky, no sand beneath my feet, no blanket at my back, only Ryan’s insistent lips upon mine.

  I kissed him back, playfully at first, in the joy of the morning and the rediscovering of his love. Plump soft and insistent, his lips plied for more. His hand, strong and warm, drew my body into his. I pulled away from the kiss. “I love you.”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t mean it in some fairy tale bullshit way.”

  “I know, babe.”

  I kissed him more passionately and pushed into him, guiding us until he was on his back, and I was half on top of him. My leg slid between his knees, pelvis aligned with his hip. I stretched and tilted my hips, grinding against the side of his thigh. As my tongue played with his, my free hand roamed his chest and hip. I snaked my hand up his shirt and onto the warmth of his belly, fingering the hair that grew there.

  His hand stroked my back, reaching past my shoulders and into my hair. He broke from our kiss and guided my neck to his mouth. I moaned as his tongue flicked my sensitive tendon. I reached for t
he waistband of his jeans. The button seemed impossible to undo with one hand, especially as I was distracted as his tongue and teeth continued to electrify me through adept sucking and nibbling at my neck. He slid a hand under my sweatshirt, tank top, and bra, finding my breast eager for his touch. I gasped and arched my back, pressing my breast into his palm and extending my neck further, heightening my sensitivity. With his zipper finally fully down, my hand easily found its mark. I gripped his cock through his underwear and found him hard and throbbing already; his boxers bore a small but growing damp spot.

  He laid back on the blanket, alternating between watching my facial expressions and closing his eyes in pleasure. As I slid my hand under the waistband of his boxers, our eyes met. Smiling mischievously, I explored his underwear, intentionally avoiding his cock. I pressed the heel of my palm into his hip and massaged down the front of his pelvis to his balls, giving each one due attention. He grabbed my wrist, and we locked eyes.

  “What?”

  “Stop.”

  I kissed him playfully. “Stop what?” I smiled and my eyes narrowed.

  “You are the biggest tease ever.”

  “We’re on a public beach.”

  “Is that it? That’s why you torture me like this?”

  “No, of course not, love. It’s the excuse that happens to be at hand. That truth is I love the way you fuck me when you can’t stand it anymore.” It was a challenge, and he knew it.

  He wrestled his way on top of me and settled between my legs. He pinned me by my wrists, holding them near my head, and he kissed me forcefully, passionately. I squirmed and writhed, kissing him but struggling to free myself at the same time. He finally broke the kiss. “Marry me, Jennifer Simmons.”

  “What?”

  “I said marry me,” he kissed me tenderly, “I want you to be my wife.”

  We stayed there, looking at each other, holding our collective breaths. So much had happened since the last time he dared ask me way back when I believed marriages change things, when I was sure I didn’t want things to change, when I was convinced that if things were perfect, change might bring them falling down like a house of cards.

  I bit my lip. In this moment, none of those fears came to mind. In this moment, his request seemed so late, so overdue, and my ‘yes’ felt right. My ‘yes’ was bursting in my throat, begging to be screamed out. What Ryan and I had was a forever thing. It was special. I had had two husbands who didn’t deserve that title, why not have one who did?

  “Yes,” I whispered finally. He leaned in closer to me and offered his ear to my mouth. I licked his earlobe, drawing it into my mouth, sucking it briefly before whispering, “Yes, Ryan Riverton, I would love to be your wife.”