Page 395 of Off Limits: The Firsts

He nods in acceptance of my answer. “And the sparkle over there?” He points to the east.

I play along and pick one out and stare at it. “That’s happiness. I never thought I’d find it and I have. You’ve helped me find it.”

“And that sparkle?” he points straight ahead of us.

“Wait. That’s not fair. It’s my turn to ask.” I pick a location he hasn’t done yet and point. “What dream of yours does that sparkle represent?”

He falls quiet for a moment as if he’s deep in thought. “You.”

“What? Oh. Grant. That’s so sweet.” I press my lips to his shoulder, my heart a jumbled mess of love for the man beside me.

“What about that sparkle over there?”

“You.” I smile, wanting to return the comment because I really do feel that way.

“Nope, you can’t steal my idea. I get to win the romance award tonight,” he says and chuckles as he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Pick another dream.”

“Hm. It’s stupid and isn’t realistic . . .” I begin to explain.

“It’s a dream, Emmy, there is no such thing as reality. There’s just possibility. What is it?”

“That no one ever has to go through what I went through.” My voice is barely a whisper, but I know he heard me.

“I agree.”

“Okay. My turn,” I say, wanting to keep this mood upbeat so I can help cheer him up and pull his mind from work. “What dream does that sparkle represent for you?”

“You.”

“You don’t get to repeat the same one.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Well, since I made up the game, I get to make up the rules, and I say I get to repeat the same dream.” He purses his lips and lifts his eyebrows, looking like the defiant little boy who saved me so very long ago.

“You never did play fair.” I laugh while he just grins. And I love the sight of it since he’s been so serious lately.

“Next one,” he says as he peruses the skyline for a location and points. “What dream does that sparkle represent?”

“Endless possibilities,” I murmur.

“Getting all philosophical on me, are you?”

“Yep. My turn.” I point to the south. “What dream does that sparkle represent?”

“You,” he says again, and when I look up to scold him, his lips meet mine. They’re warmth and comfort and familiarity and desire. Everything I could ever want. I melt into him as his hands frame my face and our tongues dance intimately. When the kiss ends, he presses his forehead to mine and we just sink into the silence of each other for a bit.

“I want to pick one more sparkle that you need to pick your dream for.”

“Can’t we just sit like this and ignore the sparkles?” I murmur, loving the feel of his hands on my face and the warmth of his body against mine. I almost groan when he removes his hands and runs them down my arms.

“What about this sparkle?” he asks as he leans back, eyes locked on mine for just a second before he glances down.

I see the ring immediately, the sparkle of the diamond off the moonlight, the shine of the platinum against it, but I’m unable to form words.

I have so much passion and joy and every indescribable emotion inside me that I’m not sure how to manage it. So, I do the one thing I know will calm me. I thread my fingers through his hair and press my lips to his until I’ve knocked him backward onto the ground with me on top of him.