I HIKE one of my favorite mountain trails with Farrow. Not far from the lake house. Wind whistles through the towering fir and maple trees and rocky peaks. The last autumn leaves falling.
Nature has nothing on Farrow. I’m highly distracted. Jet-black pieces of his hair brush his lashes. His backpack buckled across his hard chest like mine. Biceps bulging in his black long-sleeve shirt.
Mainly, it’s how, as we trek up the steep incline, he lengthens his pace. And we’re step-for-step the whole time. Neither one of us falling behind.
I think about that a lot.
I think about how he called me pure of heart.
I think about how it’ll take time for my family to see him as anything other than my bodyguard, but me and him—we’ve seen each other as more from the beginning.
I think about how he’s helped me over a wall that I had never tried to climb.
I think about you.
And how I’ve been afraid to disappoint you. Maybe I still will, maybe I already have—but it’d take so much more than a wrong turn or a human mistake to ever disappoint him.
I think about how there’s only one person I crave to wake up to and see before I go to sleep. The agitating know-it-all who loves to irritate the fuck out of me.
I think about him.
So when we reach a clearing on a ridge—overlooking a vast backdrop of mountains and bright blue horizon—I forget the fucking view. And I just face Farrow.
He bites the plastic waterspout from his camelbak, smiling. “Seen the view a hundred times already?” The longer he stares into my gaze, the more he sees the emotion barreling out of me. His chest rises in a deeper breath.
“I need to tell you something,” I say.
He edges closer. Our hands brush and then clasp together strongly. Gazes never dropping.
Christ, let me say this right. “In hindsight, I realize that I was envisioning a kind of person I’d want to be with for more than a day, long-term. You know, something…” fuck. I gesture in the air for the word.
“Lasting?”
“Yeah.” Lasting.
Something indestructible.
“I hoped for someone who wasn’t afraid to put me in my place, someone who made me feel human. I hoped for someone who could be strong so I could be vulnerable, but still never make me feel weak or less than. I hoped for trust and understanding and an innate love of my family. And I realized, Farrow…”
His hand slides up my neck to my jaw, his welling eyes already caressing mine.
“I realized,” I breathe, “that I was always hoping and wishing for you.” Say the words. “I’m in love with you, and I’m the lucky one here.”
He laughs into the most heartfelt smile I’ve seen. Both of his tattooed hands hold my face. Our chests drawn together, and he whispers, “You beat me to it.”
He loves me. My face is just pure goddamn happiness. “Well, you can’t be first at everything. So one guy always tells me.”
“One guy,” Farrow repeats.
“Some damn guy,” I rephrase, my hand rising up the back of his neck.
“The guy you love,” Farrow teases. Then he licks his bottom lip, and his mouth veers to my ear. Holding my head still, he whispers, deep and protective, “I love you too.”
