Shit.
I decided not to make any noise at all since even my mumbles were lame.
Creed gave me a squeeze as he said quietly, “Kids sleep late but told them we were going to Wet ‘n’ Wild tomorrow so they got wound up. That means tomorrow is a Disneyland day where they’ll be up early, rarin’ to go. We gotta hit the sack so we can get up earlier than them, get you back to the hotel then you can come back”
“Right,” I whispered and started to move away but his arms got tight again and stayed that way so I looked back up at him.
“This shit, hotel, us separated, you comin’ in under the radar, out early, thanks for doin’ that for my kids, baby,” he said quietly and I tipped my head, pressed deep and held on tight right back.
“Anything, Creed.”
I meant it.
Creed knew it.
I knew this because his face changed. His head moved. His mouth took mine and he kissed me deep and sweet.
After he lifted his head, he let me go but took my hand and moved us to the bed where we both moved in then he tucked me close.
“Love you, Sylvie,” he muttered into the top of my hair.
“Love you back, Creed,” I muttered to the skin over his collarbone.
His arms gave me another squeeze and, luckily, shortly after, tucked close to Creed, I fell into a dreamless sleep.
* * * * *
Creed
Creed’s eyes opened and he saw the dawning sun but felt Sylvie in his arms, in his bed, in his home.
He pulled in a deep breath, his chest expanding, pressing into his woman’s soft skin, soft body and he let that cut through him, leaving beauty in its wake.
Taking long moments of quiet, alone in the weak light of dawn, holding his Sylvie, finally, his eyes moved to the alarm clock on his nightstand.
Then he shifted carefully, moving slightly away to stare down at her. Her thick, long hair a tangle on his pillow, her profile relaxed in sleep.
Creed watched her.
Since having her back, this was not the first time he’d done this. In fact, he did it every day.
Every single day.
Because lying beside a still asleep Sylvie, he had her back. His little, sweet, funny, loving Sylvie who had no idea how beautiful she was. His Sylvie who had hope and love written all over her face. There she was, asleep right beside him. Those sharp edges sheathed, she was all soft, all beauty, all the memory of his Sylvie.
She told him that the old Sylvie was gone. He didn’t tell her she was wrong and he’d never tell her. He had the new Sylvie and, in these moments before her eyes opened and the day started, he had the old one too.
And down the hall, his kids slept in his house on a hill far away from f**king Kentucky and the memories buried there.
Therefore, Creed had it all.
Everything.
He lifted a hand to cup her cheek then slid her hair away from her face. He watched her features shift, her eyes flutter. She moved to her back, he saw the green gemstone twinkle at her neck and he felt the beauty of that in his gut.
“Is it time to get up already?” she asked, her voice soft and husky with sleep.
Creed shifted his fingers through her hair, pulling it down her chest then he curved his hand around her ribs under her breast as he nodded.
“Damn,” she muttered, arching her back in a little stretch.
He glided his hand up between her br**sts, up her chest to the chain at her neck where he stopped and twisted it around his forefinger.
“You did it again,” he murmured and she blinked.
“Did what?” she asked.
“Wakin’ up beside me, in my bed, in my house, you did it again.” When her brows drew together he finished, “My Sylvie, the dreamweaver, makin’ dreams come true.”
Her face went soft, hope and happiness flashed in her eyes and there he had it again. In those moments, he had her back. His Sylvie, both of them, right there in his bed.
Yes, he had it all.
Everything.
Or he would when he had her mouth.
So he went about taking it, dipping his head even as he tugged gently on the chain to pull her to him.
Sylvie lifted up and met him halfway and there it was.
Tucker Creed had everything.
Absolutely everything.
Fucking finally.
* * * * *
Sylvie
“Shit, I’m nervous,” I whispered.
It was early. I was standing at the front door in Creed’s arms and he’d just finished kissing me a kind of good-bye, the kind of part being that I was returning in less than two hours.
“Don’t be,” he whispered back.
“Kids like me,” I kept whispering. “But what if they’re, like, the only two kids I’ve ever met who think I’m a loser?”
Creed grinned and his arms gave me a squeeze. “They’ll love you, Sylvie. Honest to God. Don’t worry.”
Being back in Creed’s arms always felt good. It made me feel safe in a way I hadn’t since I lost him.
It just wasn’t working then.
“Creed –”
He suddenly let me go and his hands came up to cup either side of my head and his face, already close, came to a breath away.
“My kids are not dumb,” he announced and I stared into his eyes.
“I didn’t say they were.” You guessed it. I was still whispering.
“Baby, they’ve seen my tat.”
I pulled in breath.
He kept talking.
“It was not lost on them I was fakin’ it with their Mom and not just because we got divorced. Kids sense that shit. Trust me. It was not lost on them that things didn’t get a whole lot better for me when she and I were done and it will not be lost on them that you got the name inked on my skin and I’m finally f**kin’ happy. One day, when they’re older, when they know you better, when they can deal with the part of the story we’ll share with them, we’ll share it with them. They’ll get it and be happy for both of us. That’s what love is, Sylvie. That’s family. I didn’t know it because I didn’t grow up with it. You didn’t either. But havin’ my kids, I get it. The change might take some gettin’ used to and I’m not sayin’ the road won’t turn rocky along the way. I just know my kids love me and they’ll see me happy, so they’ll love you at the very least for makin’ me happy.”
Right, that made me feel better.
“Okay,” I agreed softly.
Creed’s eyes roamed my face then his hands slid down to either side of my neck before he said softly back, “Can’t wait to give you that.”
“Give me what?”