He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.
“This is it,” she whispered.
She lifted damp eyes to him, causing his to well with tears, too. His chest tightened, as he knew hers was, with a feeling of finality. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her until the pain went away—and he would, when she was ready. Her hands trembled as she picked up the urn.
He searched her eyes for an indication that she was really ready.
A single nod. A hard swallowing of emotions as she blinked against her tears.
Pierce cupped her cheek just to let her know he was there for her; then he placed his hands on top of hers and settled the urn onto his lap. He turned sideways, straddling the bench, and took Rebecca’s hand as she moved carefully between his legs, her back to his chest. He placed the urn between her legs and pressed his face to hers from behind. Warm tears slipped between their cheeks.
“I love you, sweetheart,” he whispered.
Rebecca reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. “I know. I’ve always known.”
He reached around her waist with both arms and opened the lid. Her neck bowed. The night was silent, save for the sounds of the water swishing against the sides of the boat, gently rocking the small vessel. He felt her body trembling against his chest, and he embraced her from behind. I’m here, babe.
She lifted her head, and he felt her hand stroke his; then she inched closer to the edge of the boat, holding tightly to his arms as he inched forward with her.
When she lifted the urn, he covered her hands with his, stabilizing it, and pressed his cheek to hers so she could feel his presence. She held the urn in front of her, still over the boat, and he wondered what she was thinking and if she was going to say anything to her mother. Each of his family members had wanted to come along, to be here for her. She’d become very close to his mother, Emily, Daisy, and Callie, who had brought her into what Pierce called their Private Girl Club, because they passed secrets by text and phone calls that made Rebecca giggle like a schoolgirl. He had asked her if she wanted to hold a ceremony, but Rebecca said her life with her mother had been private, and it wouldn’t feel right. She wanted to do this alone, with just the two of them.
He felt her shoulders rise as she drew in a deep breath and exhaled ratchety and slow.
“This isn’t the end, Mom,” she said just above a whisper. “This is me setting you free.” She lifted the urn with Pierce’s hands still holding hers, and she shook her mother’s ashes into the water. They floated on the surface, slowly darkening as they soaked up the sea. Rebecca brought the urn to her chest and pressed her back to Pierce’s chest again.
“This is me setting us free, too, Pierce. This is our beginning.” Tears streamed down Rebecca’s cheeks as she curled sideways against his chest and melted within his arms.
He didn’t know how long he held her as they drifted toward shore and the moon rose in the dark sky. He didn’t know when the sounds of the sea were replaced with the sounds of Rebecca’s heart beating against his, or how he managed to tie the rowboat to the dock. His mind was absorbed with helping Rebecca feel safe as he carried her back down the dock, across the sandy beach, and into the dark cabana. Sometime between This is our beginning and the moment he set her on the bed, he knew that tonight was the night he’d been waiting for.
He took a step away, and Rebecca reached for his hand.
“I’ll be right back, babe. I just want to go to the bathroom.” He hated lying to her, but there was no other way he could do this.
When he returned, she was lying beneath the sheet, her hair spread across the pillow, her bare shoulders calling out to him. He set his wallet on the nightstand, took off his clothes, and climbed in beside her. Her body was familiar and warm. She felt so damn good. She always felt so damn good.
“God, I love you, Becca.” The words were like a mantra in his mind—one he knew he’d never tire of.
He settled his lips over hers, kissing her tenderly, lovingly stroking her back to the curve of her rear, letting her guide their pace. She pressed her hips to his arousal and rolled onto her back. He was careful tonight. With all she’d been through, he didn’t want to force himself on her, or love her too roughly. He wanted her to feel loved, cared for. Cherished. She spread her legs, making room for him as he kissed her neck, her shoulders, and the tops of her beautiful, lean arms. He would never get enough of her. She tasted sweet and smelled of coconut lotion she’d bought at the airport. He wanted to satiate her every need. His hands traveled down her sides, gripping her waist as he lowered his mouth to her breasts and stroked her nipples to hard points, then settled his mouth around one and sucked the way she liked. He was rewarded with her writhing beneath him. Her breaths quickened, and she pushed his hand between her legs.
“Touch me.”
She was hot, wet. Ready. Every stroke drew a gasp from her lungs, every flick of his tongue on her breasts brought a rocking of her hips. He throbbed with the need to be inside her. She pushed at his hips, urging him forward. He reached for his wallet to retrieve a condom and she grabbed his wrist. He looked into her eyes, and her lips curved into a smile. Love and desire heated inside of him. Daisy had tested both of them when they were home, because Rebecca insisted that she couldn’t ask Pierce to do that for her unless she was willing to do it for him, even though her sexual experiences paled in comparison to his. They were both clean, and they’d been waiting for her birth control pills to take effect before making love without protection.
She drew his hand back to her hip and whispered, “It’s our beginning.”
He lowered his forehead to hers as he slid deep inside her. Feeling the full intensity of their love for the first time, they both stilled. Buried deep, his heart so full he couldn’t wait a second longer, he laced the fingers of his left hand with hers and brought it to his lips. His lips brushed against her mother’s ring, which she still wore every day, another thing he loved about her. Rebecca was the most loyal person he knew. She gazed up with love in her eyes, and he felt himself falling deeper in love with her with every breath—and knew he would just keep falling.
“I don’t want just a beginning. You’re my yesterday, my today, and I want you to be my tomorrow every day of my life. I can’t imagine a single day without you by my side.” He’d thought of a million ways to say what he wanted to say, and now it all fell away. His emotions were laid bare, and it was all he could do to form the words that came.
“I can’t imagine a day without you, either,” Rebecca said.
“Then let’s not. I love everything about you, Bec. The way you look at me, your touch in the morning. The sigh you make right before you fall asleep in my arms. I love the way you watch babies when we’re in the grocery store, or walking through town, and the way you helped that old man across the street when we first met. I even love that you can deck a guy. God, Bec, I love you so much it literally hurts sometimes. You’ve become the very air I breathe.”
He felt her heart beating as fast as his. Her eyes filled with fresh tears, and when she smiled, they dripped down her cheeks.
“Marry me, Rebecca. Let’s make this the beginning of our forever.”
“Pierce.” His name left her lips like a secret.
He touched his forehead to hers, shifted his hips, moving deeper inside her again. “Will you be my wife, Rebecca, because I want to be your husband more than anything in this world? I want to love, honor, and protect you. I want to offer to buy you things you don’t need and have you laugh at me and tell me no. I want to walk through the park and kiss you under the streetlights. I want to have a family of our own, so you can love our babies the way that your mother loved you, and I want to bring them here, every year if you want, so they feel connected to your mom, too.”
She reached up and touched his cheek, now openly crying tears of joy.
“I’ll never tire of your touch,” he said. “And even when we’re old and gray and our bones creak, I can promise you, I’ll never tire of touching you. Marry me, Becca.”
She nodded.
“Yes?”
“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. There’s no other man on earth I could ever love.”
Pierce lowered his mouth to hers and could barely contain his excitement at finally being able to give her something to signify his love for her. He reached into his wallet and pulled out the ring he’d designed for her. He’d struggled between his desire to give her more than she could ever want and her love of simplicity, and he’d finally come up with a design that he hoped she’d love. He held her left hand and slid the ring onto her finger. Two carats of inlaid canary yellow and white diamonds—so as not to be too flashy or to overpower her mother’s ring—wrapped in an intricate setting of two bands crossing over each other. The colors set off her mother’s ring just as he had hoped.
“Pierce,” she whispered as she admired the beautiful ring. When she opened her mouth again, no words came out. He wiped her tears with the pad of her thumb, and when their lips met, all of the emotions of the past few weeks coalesced, guiding their love and sealing their promises of forever.