The Thrust Page 22

  “Congratulations!” Clarissa exclaimed, and she meant it. If anyone deserved happiness, it was her friends. Jenna and Barker, Emily and Mason . . . they were perfect together.

  “We figure since there’s a pastor in town now, we can make it official,” Jenna explained.

  Mason nodded. “That’s great. Em, we should do the same thing, before the baby comes.”

  Evan laughed. “What kind of a proposal is that?”

  Emily grinned at him and Annie. “The kind that doesn’t need asking. I’ve been calling Mason my husband for a while now. We’ve just never had any way of making it officially official. Living alone in the woods, you know.”

  Jenna set down her fork. “We could do a double wedding! I mean, if you want.”

  Emily looked at Mason, who shrugged. “That’s up to you girls,” he said. A grin spread over his handsome face.

  “I’d love to,” Emily said, her eyes shining. “We can have a big party after, invite everyone in Letliv who wants to come.”

  Clarissa studiously avoided looking at Trent. When she finally glanced up at him, he was looking at her. Smiling.

  Her stomach churned. She was so happy for her friends, but until she told Trent how she felt, even if he didn’t feel the same way . . . she didn’t know how she could stand to watch her friends in love tie the knot.

  As hard as it was for her, it had to be even harder for Trent. He had already been married, after all, and he still loved his late wife. It wasn’t fair for Clarissa to expect him to love her just as much. She knew that.

  And telling him that she loved him might only serve to remind him of how he felt for Karen . . . the wife he never had wanted to lose.

  Clarissa struggled not to twist the napkin on her lap, even as she kept a smile on her face. She was happy for her friends, it just hurt. Happy for them but sad for herself . . . like Trent said. God, he knew her so well.

  Tonight, then. After everyone left. She’d tell him tonight—even if it meant ruining everything they had together.

  TRENT

  LATER that night, Trent helped Clarissa wash the dishes. Well, she washed them, and he dried them and put them away.

  “Pretty exciting news about Jenna and Emily both getting married,” Trent said. He tried to make it sound casual, but his voice sounded strange to his ears.

  Clarissa dried her soapy hands on the dishtowel. “Trent, we need to talk.”

  Oh fuck.

  Nothing good ever came out of a conversation that started like that. He was married to Karen long enough to know that.

  “Okay.”

  He pulled a chair out for her and she sat, pulling on a piece of her hair, twisting it in her fingers.

  He turned a chair around so he could straddle it. It felt better, safer, having the tall chair back as a barrier between them when he felt so vulnerable.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she said. “I know that I am nothing like Karen.” She paused, taking in a shaky breath. “I can’t ever replace her. And I know that you said you’d be happy to have a baby with me, but—”

  And here it comes.

  “Please, Clarissa,” Trent said. “Wait.”

  The barrier the wooden chair back put between them now felt like a wall, and he awkwardly stood, pushing the chair aside.

  Fear filled her eyes, as if she didn’t want to ever hear what he had to say right now. “You don’t—you don’t need to have a baby with me,” she whispered.

  “Please, Clarissa,” he said again. He knelt on the floor by her feet, taking her hands in his.

  He didn’t care if he made a fool out of himself. He didn’t care if he seemed desperate. He was desperate.

  “Don’t break up with me,” he whispered.

  “Break—break up with you?” Clarissa asked. Her surprised expression would have been comical if he weren’t about to die inside.

  “I know we were never technically, um, together,” he said. “So break up may seem like a strange word choice.” He sighed. “Fuck, I was never good at this sort of thing.”

  “Are we . . . together?” she asked tentatively.

  “Yes,” he said. “At least, I hope so. We live together, we share a bed. We’re talking about having a baby together. What more is there?”

  Clarissa shook her head sadly. “That’s just it, Trent. There is more.” She pulled her cool hands out from his, and touched her face, as if she felt feverish.

  “I can give you more,” he whispered. “I’ll give you whatever you need.”

  “I don’t think you can do that,” she said. “It’s not like buying someone a gift or just . . . I don’t know, flipping on a switch.”

  “Please, please don’t leave me,” Trent said. “I—I love you, Clarissa. I’m sorry. I don’t want to scare you away, but there it is. I’m in love with you.”

  Clarissa’s eyes widened, glassy with unshed tears.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again, lamely. “It wasn’t on purpose.”

  “You love me?”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  “But I’m—I thought that was never going to happen.” Clarissa didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands. They trembled until she gripped them tightly together in her lap.

  “Yeah. It happened. I wasn’t sure I should tell you, but if you’re going to leave anyway, you need to at least know the truth.”

  “I’m not leaving you, Trent,” she said. “I was trying to tell you . . . badly, I see that now . . . but I was trying to tell you the same thing.”

  Trent paused. “What same thing?”

  She laughed, and took his hand in hers. “That I love you. I love you, too.”

  Trent wasn’t sure he heard her correctly at first. He’d been so sure she was setting him up for the end, but this . . . Holy shit.

  Oh my God.

  “You love me!” Trent grabbed her out of her seat, pulling her into a bear hug, her head pressed against his chest.

  “Yes, Trent, I love you.” Her words were muffled against his shirt.

  He tilted her chin up.

  “How long have you been keeping that a secret?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I think it hit home after the battle, when I couldn’t find you. And I fought it, God knows I fought it. I couldn’t risk losing someone I loved again.”

  “I fought it too,” he whispered. “But let’s not do that anymore. We have each other. We’re in love. Let’s just enjoy it while we have it.”

  Clarissa nodded, tears streaming down her face. “I can’t believe you love me too,” she said. “I think I’m in shock.”

  Trent kissed her, tasting the saltiness of her tears. “Are these happy tears?”

  “Yes. I plan on only crying happy tears from now on.”

  “Good.” He kissed her again, his mouth melting into hers. “God, I want you. Can we get started on making that baby?”

  Clarissa laughed, nodding as she pulled her shirt up over his head and tossed it on the kitchen floor.

  Trent could barely contain his desire, but he managed to strip, adding his clothes to the growing pile by their feet.

  “Wait!” she cried, and grabbed the dishtowel from the rack, completely naked.

  “What—” He laughed as she quickly wiped the large wooden table clean.

  “Okay, where were we?” she asked, her eyes shining.

  “About to have sex on the kitchen table, I’m guessing,” Trent said.

  She nodded seductively, biting her lower lip. He hauled her up until her bare ass touched the edge of the table, her pale legs wrapped around his ass.

  “I’ve wanted to make love to you for so long now,” he said, sliding into her wet heat. “Without love, we were just fucking. This—God, this is making love.”

  Clarissa threw her head back with a moan of pleasure as he kissed her neck, her breasts brushing against his chest as he stood at the edge of the table, thrusting in and out.

  “It feels so good,” she gasped.

  “Let me see you.” He ge
ntly pushed her back against the table, raising her legs until they were supported by his shoulders.

  Her breasts bounced beautifully with each thrust, her lips parted in ecstasy. Trent reached down between their bodies and found her clit, relishing the feel of the swollen bud under his fingers.

  “Oh my God, don’t stop,” she moaned, arching her back.

  “We’re just getting started,” he smiled. He thrummed her clit, slowly sliding in and out of her tight pussy, the tension coiling in his abdomen and seeming to reach the very base of his balls.

  In this position, he could see everything about her, how her face contorted in pleasure as her climax rose from within, how her eyebrows knitted together. She looked up at him, reached for him, but he was too far away.

  “Come here,” she whispered, and he swiveled her legs off his shoulders, around his hips, and pressed against her on the sturdy table.

  Their skin rubbed together, creating a beautiful friction, her nipples hardening against his chest.

  He had to move his hand off her clit to support himself, but she thrust her hips up to meet his cock, letting it slide over her tender bud, moaning loudly with each movement.

  “I love you, I love you,” he groaned, unable able to hold out any longer. His cock pulsed, his come jetting inside her.

  She cried out, spasming against his length, extending his orgasm longer than he ever thought possible. Her whole body quaked as she came.

  “Oh, Trent, I love you too,” she whispered, her voice shaking as an aftershock rolled through her postorgasmic body.

  He lowered his head to the table next to her, his body covering hers completely. They breathed together until their hearts stopped pounding so hard. Until they were calm.

  Clarissa kissed his cheek, and he looked into her eyes.

  “You are everything to me, Clarissa,” he said.

  “Me too.”

  Slowly, carefully, he helped her off the table. She looked around at the mess they’d made of the kitchen and laughed.

  “Oh boy.”

  Trent smiled. “I’ll help.”

  * * *

  Later that night, after Clarissa had scoured the table until it was fit for guests again and they’d gotten into their pajamas, she watched Trent as he added a log to the fire.

  “Want me to light the oil lamp so we can read before bed?” he asked.

  “Sure. I’ve got to finish writing this article, so you can read while I work.”

  Clarissa was so happy she didn’t know what to do with herself. He loved her! It was more than she’d ever expected, more than she’d ever hoped for.

  They cuddled on the couch together, him with his book, her with the first draft of a painstakingly-written account of what happened that fateful day at Grand Central. She wanted a record of it, and she wanted it to be on the front page of the very first edition of the Letliv Ledger.

  “Hey, Clarissa?”

  She looked up at him sleepily and set her quill pen down on a dish, so it wouldn’t spill ink, before putting aside her article and giving him her full attention.

  “I was thinking . . . since we’re living together, and um, since I love you, and you love me . . .” Trent paused, as if unsure how to continue.

  “Yes?”

  “I think we should get married,” Trent said. “Only if you want to.”

  Married?

  Married!

  Clarissa clapped her hands with joy, making him drop his book to the couch.

  “Ah, wait. I should do this right.” Trent laughed nervously, and got off the couch, and knelt on one knee. “Clarissa, I love you so much. I love living with you, and I want to have a family with you. Will you marry me?”

  Happy tears sprung to her eyes once more. It seemed like she couldn’t stop them lately. “Yes, of course, yes!”

  Trent’s smile was so wide she could see all his straight white teeth. God, he was good-looking. And so brave, and so strong, and so . . . so good. He was such a good man.

  “I can’t wait to be your wife,” she whispered.

  Ever since the Pulse, she’d been besieged by loss and hardship. But finding Trent, and letting him into her heart, had changed everything.

  Even with the world upside down, they could be happy in their small corner of the world. As long as they had each other, life was good.

  Life was great.

  Epilogue

  ONE MONTH LATER IN LETLIV

  THE WEDDING DAY

  CLARISSA stood next to Emily and Jenna, peering around the corner of the house to the back orchard. The church hadn’t been big enough for everyone to join them, so they’d moved the wedding outdoors, under the apple trees.

  Each person had brought their own chairs from home and set them up in neat rows facing the raised gazebo Trent, Mason, and Barker had constructed together. The women from the village pitched in, decorating it with wild flowers, and everyone prepared a dish to bring for the potluck reception.

  A bit different from the wedding Clarissa had envisioned for herself pre-Pulse—but this was so much better. Friends, family, good food, and room to dance. Anyone who had a musical instrument was encouraged to bring it, and Clarissa looked forward to dancing the night away with her new husband.

  Husband!

  But first, they needed to get married.

  Pastor Dan stood on the gazebo with Trent, Mason, and Barker. The men looked devastatingly handsome. Trent had a suit of his own in the back of his closet; the other men had borrowed theirs.

  The women in town who’d saved their wedding dresses were all excited about the chance to see the expensive dresses in action once more. They’d actually had numerous gowns to choose from, some old-fashioned, but gorgeously so. One of the women who had joined Letliv from the Tracks was a talented seamstress, and she’d altered them to fit the girls to perfection.

  Emily’s baby bump was just starting to show, and she’d taken to resting her hand on her belly protectively as she walked. It was so cute.

  It made Clarissa excited to be a mom again, someday. Someday soon, perhaps, since her period was a few days late. It was too early to know for sure, but Clarissa glowed with hope.

  The new church choir hummed in harmony as first Emily, then Jenna, and finally Clarissa walked down the aisle. They each waited for the other to step onto the gazebo so each bride would have the chance to shine.

  Emily beamed up at her husband—soon-to-be official husband. Jenna practically skipped down the aisle in her exuberance to stand by Barker.

  They had no one to give them away, but that seemed very apropos. They weren’t to be given from one man to another, they were choosing their husbands and entering into partnerships on their own.

  Yes, that worked just fine for her.

  Clarissa walked down the aisle between the rows of chairs, smiling over at Evan and Annie, who stood together, clasping hands. Evan’s mom was already dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

  At the gazebo, Clarissa took her place next to Trent. He grinned at her, and she knew if they weren’t surrounded by everyone in town he’d probably kiss her right there and then. The thought left her giddy with excitement. This was happening!

  The pastor made a gesture with his hands for everyone to be seated, and they did. “Friends, family, citizens of Letliv. We are gathered here today to celebrate the joyous occasion of three unions under God. Three weddings. I feel blessed to perform any one, but three in one day is a special day indeed.” He smiled at the couples encouragingly.

  “Marriage is a deep, binding commitment, one we are making here in front of our community and God. If anyone feels, for any reason, that one of these couples should not be united in holy matrimony, please speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

  The audience was silent. Only the birds chirped.

  “Very well,” Pastor Dan continued. “In today’s world, we need hope more than anything else. The Pulse devastated our country. Many of us lost those dearest to us, our only solace that they are no
w in the Kingdom of Heaven. But together, this community has supported each other through it all, and thrived. Here in Letliv, and in communities like it across America, hope for the future continues to thrive.” He paused, looking out at the people seated in the orchard before them.

  “Marriage is a symbol of that hope, that love and faith will keep our community strong and growing. It is a joyous occasion indeed, but with this joy comes responsibility—responsibility to each other, to your vows, and to God.”

  Clarissa smiled. She wasn’t afraid of being responsible for Trent, wasn’t afraid of losing herself in him. Together, they were even stronger than they were apart.

  “We don’t know what the future holds,” the pastor said, “but with these marriages, you are pledging to endure any storms ahead, together.”

  Yes, that was exactly what they would do. No matter what the future held.

  “Now, do you, Trent Taylor, Christopher Mason, and Kenneth Barker, take these women to be your lawfully wedded wives, to live together in holy matrimony?” Pastor Dan asked, speaking to the grooms. They nodded, and he continued, looking at each man individually.

  “To love, honor, and cherish her. To be with her in sickness and in health. Forsaking all others, keeping only unto her for as long as you both shall live?”

  “I do,” Trent said, in unison with Mason and Barker.

  The pastor smiled. “We have six beautiful rings, gifts from the community, handmade with love, out of silver coins.”

  Clarissa gasped in surprise. She hadn’t been expecting a ring—and she had been uncomfortable with the idea of wearing Karen’s wedding ring. It wouldn’t have felt right to her. But a new ring? It was . . . perfect. Absolutely perfect.

  “Thank you,” she mouthed to their guests, her face flushed with heat. What an amazing gift.

  “Trent, please place the ring on her left hand, and repeat after me. With this ring,”

  Trent took the ring and her hand, enveloping it in his large palm. He was so warm, just like his heart.

  He gazed into her eyes, as if she was the only person there. “With this ring,” he said.

  “I thee wed, in love and truth . . .”