UNSHAKABLE (Able Series Book 4) (18 page)

“I’m gonna go out, I’m gonna let myself get, ab-so-lute-ly soaking wet!” Roxy bellows.

“It’s raining men. Hallelujah, it’s rainin’ men, every specimen. . . .” Tami and Trish harmonize.

“Tall, blond, dark and mean, rough and tough, and strong and lean . . .” Neil sings his heart out.

“God bless Mother Nature. . . . .”

We sing so loudly that Travis and Luke just shake their heads looking so uncomfortable. I’m so happy at this moment, I can’t contain myself. I can’t wait for tomorrow, but at the same time I want to savor every second before my wedding. One would think being the President’s daughter I would want a big grand wedding, but I don’t. I want it simple, yet meaningful, just like my future husband.

Simple
—Damien has always said he’s simple compared to me because of my dad, how I’m born with a silver spoon in my mouth, but what he doesn’t know is I crave the simple things instead of the complex ones. I’m finally marrying a man whose love for me is perfection in its simplicity. I don’t have to scrutinize it, never have to question it, but always understand the intensity of it.

Complex
—I never thought I would ever find someone who could un-complicate my life, but thank God he found me. It may take a while to completely unravel the complexity that is my life, but with him next to me whom shall I fear?

DAMIEN

The drive back to the hotel is nothing but me reliving how I . . . how we got to this point. How I came to the decision of making her my wife. How it’s more for worse than it is better, more for sickness than in health because truly a relationship is tested in hard, rough times. My mind is like a movie of non-stop scenes showcasing my love for her.

“Mr. President . . . Ma’am, I
will
marry your daughter.” Confidence booms in my voice as the words leave my mouth. “It’s not a question of if; it’s just a matter of when. My love for her is challenged by time, perhaps by our age difference, and maybe by our stature in life, but it’s protected by its strength. I know she’s it for me, and I, her. I’ve never lived in the moment, planning is part of my life . . . has been for a long time, but your daughter taught me how to enjoy and breathe in it. So, I’m seizing the moment, taking it by the horns, and making a life with her. While I do that, I promise to protect her, but more than that I promise to love her—always.”

With his hands twined, eyes directed at me he says, “You’ve only been together a solid six months. Can this six month period of time withstand the trials of a lifetime? Married life isn’t always easy. With her name and your line of work, it’s a recipe for major explosions . . . not of the good kind, either. Are you prepared for that?”

“Yes. We’ve been together for only six months and to some it’s probably not long enough to get to know each other, but she knows me. She knows who I am—the rugged, unapologetic, over protective man she hated more than a year ago, the one she’s learned to love. I also know her name doesn’t precede her, it’s her heart that does. It’s the way she clings to the simplicity of life. It’s that simplicity that she chased all that time, until fate stepped in and used that chase to meet me. Am I prepared? I’m prepared to love her faithfully for the rest of my life. That, I can promise you.”

“She’s only twenty-three, and you’re thirty. That’s seven years. Seven years of life experiences you’ve had and she hasn’t. We’ve seen marriages with the same age gap, maybe less, succumb to the pit falls of that age difference. My fear, if there is any, isn’t the love you have for her, but the patience to understand that she’s just learning to spread her wings while you’ve already learned to fly.”

Looking her dead set in the eyes but with an equal measure of tenderness I give my mother, I answer, “Mrs. Andrews, I’ll teach her and help her spread her wings. I won’t stop her but push her forward to experience things she’s never dreamed of. I’ll give her the confidence to try and the courage to start because she does the same for me. Our love out ranks each other. . . .”

“Meaning?” She questions.

“Meaning, in our relationship there’s not a ‘you and me’. . . . ’you or I’. . . . there’s only an ‘us’—a ‘we’.”

“My wish for my daughter has always been to find someone who’ll love her as much, if not more, than we do. As a mother I want her to be loved more than hated, cared for more than neglected, understood more than dismissed, and I know you can love, care, understand her implicitly, but can you accept the harsh reality of the hard challenges attached to my husband’s job? The reach of my husband’s detractors has the power to destroy that love. I need to know if that love can stand against it.”

“Our love will not only stand against it, it’ll crush it.”

She looks into my eyes straight to my soul looking for holes in the promise my lips just declared, but she won’t find any. Her daughter is it for me, and the only way my promise will be broken is if she breaks it herself, not anyone else.

“Thank you.” A simple answer from a simple woman who has a simple wish for a daughter who lives in a complicated world.

“Damien, stay.” He turns to his wife. “I need a word alone with Damien, honey. It’ll only be a couple of minutes.” He kisses her and walks her to their room.

Minutes later, he comes out holding an old watch. He gently places it on the table separating us, and a thoughtful look masks his face.

“My wife’s father gave me this when I asked for her hand in marriage. I asked him why a watch, because for the life of me I couldn’t understand what its significance was. He said ‘time could be your worst enemy or could be your greatest friend, much like love’. Love stops when hate, misunderstanding, and jealousy fester, but time ends when that love ends. Take care of this watch as you would take care of her heart. Always look at it, always check on it, always wear it, keep it clean, don’t ever break it, check that it stays true to the time. . . . always hold it. I’ve done that, Damien. I always look at my wife with love in my eyes. I always check and ask if what I’m doing hurts her. I always wear my heart on my sleeve when I’m around her. I always keep our love clean and pure. I’ve never hurt her, maybe made her mad, but never hurt her heart. I always check if I’m staying true to the promise I gave the Lord when I promised my wife forever. I hold her close to me, always.” He takes hold of the watch and hands it to me with confidence and acceptance in his eyes and a deep conviction and honor in mine.

I accept it with pride. “I’ll do everything you’ve asked. I’ll love your daughter more than I should . . . for all eternity if I could. I’ll give her my best—only the very best of me and everyone around me. I love her deeply, Sir, with a love that spans time. I’ll love and protect her more than you’ve ever loved her. It’s not a disregard to you, Sir, not at all. I need you to know that my love for her surpasses yours so you’ll understand the depths of it.”

“I do. But, can you handle the stress of the job? It only takes one incident, one moment. You’ll be in. . . .”

“I know I’ll be in the kill zone. Your safety above mine.”

He stands in front of me. “I fear for my daughter. I wonder if she truly understands the solemnity of that oath and the loss attached to it.”

“She understands because she understands me.”

He blows out a breath slowly, not out of resignation, but acceptance. “Well, then welcome to the family, Son.”

“Hey.” Cody elbows me. “You’ve been awfully quiet. What’s up?”

“Just remembering how I got here, and thanking God for leading me to her.”

Jake clasps my shoulder from behind. “I told you you’d find your one. It might have taken you a year to get her, but you did. Just as how I waited for Trish.”

“Enjoy the moment, LT. Be honest with her. Tell her your fears, you might be surprised at the level of understanding she gives you. Often times we have this mind set of protecting them from pain, but in reality we’re setting them up for it. So be honest.”

Brian has a funny way of reading my mind, or our minds for that matter. “That’s my only regret. In this line of work, full and complete disclosure doesn’t have a place. Or maybe it’s not even honesty, it’s being transparent. But isn’t that honesty?”

“She knows there are certain things you can’t tell her. I think you don’t have anything to worry about on that end. What I’m talking about is recognizing
when
to tell her the truth.”

“I know, B. I’ll tell her everything when the time comes.”

“What is it you’re keeping from her? Is it X-rated?” Cody jokes, obviously trying to kill the tension in the air.

“No. . . . it’s classified.”

This conversation reminds me of something she asked me a few weeks ago.

I’m kissing her lips, kneading her breast while controlling this deep need in me to take her and make her mine. With every stroke of my tongue the intensity deepen. For every time the tips of my fingers graze her skin, her nipples, or her wet core, my need ramps up to uncontrollable levels. My hand leaves her breast only to find the other, my lips travel down her jaw leaving open kisses on her neck. The place I always find to seek solace . . . to calm the rage that’s building inside me to have her. Slowly. . . . gently, I lower my lips to suck on her breast while my hand imitates my lips, descending to that place I know will send her to heaven.

I feel her wetness between my fingers . . . I smell her desire. As she’s writhing in pure ecstasy under me, under my mouth and hand, I know she’s close—close to having that feeling of pure physical release. In my heart, I’m dying to share it with her, to be inside her. I squelch that thought because my passion to share it with her when we’re married is stronger than the primal, physical need to reach the apex of sexual satisfaction now.

“Oh. . . .” She lets out a sensual gasp echoing the tremors her body is feeling.

As I hold her close to me with her completely sated body against mine, her words surprise and worry me.

“Will there ever be something you’ll keep from me?”

A meaningless question to some, but to me who holds a lot of secrets, it means more than anyone could ever understand.

“That came from left field. Why are you asking me?” Seconds ago, her voice and body were shaking under me. Now my own is shaking the same way, but for an entirely different reason.

She shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know, I guess at some point there will be certain things we can’t tell our partners. You know, we don’t tell our parents everything, it’s the same concept.”

A deep sigh escapes me. “Honestly, I guess it depends on how we look at it. Secrets could be both good and bad, just depends on the reason behind them, I guess.”

She kisses my chest and buries her face into my neck. “That’s why I hate surprises. Others find enjoyment in them, but I don’t. Even if it’s coming from a good place, I just don’t like the anxiety associated with them.”

With my thumb I caress her cheek. “That’s why it’s important to always remember when I do things or say things there’s a reason behind them, especially when it comes to you.”

“Thank you for understanding my immaturity and recklessness. Thank you for being patient. Maybe fate planned it that an older guy would be my destiny because I need . . .” She sheepishly looks at me then just as quickly looks at something else.

“Eyes on me.” She complies as she normally does. “Sophia, it’s not the age. It’s you accepting and understanding my fuck ups as much as I accept and understand yours. It’s as simple as that. There’s someone out there specifically for another.”

“Like a match made in Heaven?”

I chuckle. “Something like that.”

That conversation plays in my mind on repeat. Am I scared? NO, I’m not scared of why I have to keep a secret, and not why it needs to be done. I’m scared, though, of how she’ll react. That’s what makes this part of me complicated—very complicated.

Simple
—my Wildflower desires this. I know I can give it to her, but in my life where my job is webbed with responsibilities, hard decisions and the responsibility to execute said decisions, it makes life less simple and more complex.

Complex
—my life never was before her. I know my responsibilities and what’s expected of me. I also know the need to understand both and allow them to work in my life cohesively. What happens when you try to balance a complex present and a simple future? The answer is a stable heart.

SOPHIA

TODAY IS MY WEDDING DAY.

Unbelievable? No.

I’ve believed all along Damien and I were meant to be together. I’m standing in front of the floor to ceiling window overlooking the Pacific Ocean, and the calmness in the water calls out to me, putting me in a trance of some sort.

The sound of footsteps burst my peaceful bubble. I look over my shoulder to see my mother holding my veil and my dad standing behind her. I slowly turn to face them, and I can already see tears shimmering in my mother’s eyes. Tears of joy mixed with a little bit of worry for me. After all, I’m the only child they have. I know giving me up is hard on both of them.