Truly, Madly, Whiskey(66)
“I’m not asking you to change it,” Bear said. “But you need to know that I’m trying to put away that anger. It’s just not easy to do when I want to slaughter the guy.”
“You’re offering to change who you are in order to give me what I need.” She swallowed hard and pressed her lips to the center of his chest. She’d done that so often he should be used to it, but it still sent a streak of love through him every time. “You’re offering yourself as an imperfect man, and it makes me fall even harder for you.”
“I am sorry,” he whispered. “I only know one way to be.”
“So do I,” she said softly. “It takes a bigger man to step back the way you are instead of trying to seek vengeance. When I lost my father, when my mom started drinking, and when I was attacked, I had no control. I have been fighting every minute of my life for control, and you, Mr. Control, have given it to me. I realize that it’s killing you not being able to do anything, probably as much as it kills me to know that no matter how much I feel like I’ve moved past it all, it still slowed me down enough not to drag you into my bedroom, but to have this conversation instead.”
“I’m sorry, babe,” was all he could manage. He seemed to be saying it a lot tonight.
“It’s not a bad thing. The best part of all of this is that I’m not terrified of losing control when I’m with you. I want to. But to be with me, you have to be okay with my choices, even if you don’t like them.”
Her voice was so serious the sea itself seemed to still.
“It’s a little like swallowing broken glass,” he admitted. “You know the Whiskey in me wants to give you those rules right back, but I’m not going to. What you want and what you need are what matters most. So instead I’ll ask only one thing of you.”
She nodded, holding him a little tighter.
“Let me love you, sweetheart. Let me learn how to love you the way you need. Let us learn what we both need. There is nothing I won’t do for you, but unlearning the visceral make-things-right part of me isn’t easy. I’ll need you to call me on it if it gets too bad, like you have been. Maybe that makes me a lesser man for needing your help, but if it means being with you, I’ll take it.”
IN ALL OF her years, there were only a handful of times Crystal had been one hundred percent certain that what she was doing was right. She’d known when she’d returned to Peaceful Harbor that the strength of her relationship with her father would help her regain her footing. She’d been sure that seeing a therapist would allow her to eventually live a full life without fear of intimacy, and she’d known the first time she’d met Gemma that it was kismet. As she led Bear into her bedroom, she felt as though the room itself had been waiting for him. Even as he turned her in his arms, her feelings for him were intensifying.
Slivers of moonlight sliced through the sheers that kept the rest of the world at bay, reflecting in his eyes. She studied his face, seeing as much inherent strength and love as there was in his touch. She knew how hard it was for him to step back when he was used to barreling forward, and she sensed that their discussion had been freeing for both of them, even if it was a work in progress.
“Still okay, sweetheart?” He brushed his thumb over her jaw, watching her intently.
“Yes. I want this, Bear. I’m not afraid, not even a little, so please don’t be afraid for me.”
“All I want is for you to feel safe and loved.” His hands moved down her arms, slow and gentle and somehow strong and reassuring.
Harley moved around their feet, her soft meow bringing a smile to both their faces. He picked her up and held her to his chest, kissing the top of her head. His eyes moved over the room, drifting to the windowsill where she’d set the orchids between an array of candles, separated into three vases.
His lips curved up in a soft smile. “Can I light them? I want to see you tonight.”
“Sure.” She was a little nervous, even though he’d already seen her naked. Seeing her naked while they were making love felt different. Exciting and intimate, but different.
Using the lighter she’d left on the sill, he brought shimmering light to the dark room. He petted Harley, looking around her room, taking in the shelves filled with books and a few of the dolls her father had made. Scarves and bags hung precariously off the ends. He walked over to the bed, touching the bongo drum she used as a bedside table. A tall brass lamp with a black-fringed shade sat beside her stereo.
He lifted a finger, as if he were going to turn on the music, and looked at her questioningly. She nodded, and seconds later, slow jazz filled the air.
“My girl,” he said wistfully, crossing the black shag rug and setting Harley in the center of the dark purple armchair where Crystal liked to read.
“Stay here, little one,” he said to the kitty, his gaze moving over the bed to the enormous white medallion headboard, which nearly reached the ceiling, and the string of colorful holiday lights draped unevenly over one side. His smile widened as he moved around the bed, finding the switch for the lights and bringing them to life.
Her pulse quickened with every move he made.
Watching her intently as he neared, he said, “Do you want me to ask, or do you want me to take?”
“Take,” she said a little breathlessly. “Carefully.”