Dirty Ginger by Stacey Kennedy
14
The next morning, Amelia exited Sullivan’s truck fifteen minutes before nine o’clock, and her heart shattered. Standing next to the casket suspended atop the grave was Beckett, his head bowed as he waited next to the minister. He wore black dress slacks and a navy-blue button up with a black tie, and the minister next to him was in a full black suit with a tie. Her mouth went bone dry as her high heels sank into the grass, her heart reaching for his. Becket had never looked more alone, only making her realize exactly what she needed to do next. Not only for him, but for them.
“Here are the flowers, Auntie Amelia,” Mason said, wearing khaki shorts and a white dress shirt. He offered her the wreath of white roses, lilies and carnations that she picked up from the florist this morning.
“Thank you, buddy.” She dropped a quick kiss on the top of his head, which he did his best to avoid, running back to Sullivan and Clara as they waited for Hayes and Maisie, who were approaching from their truck.
Today, even the universe seemed to understand that Beckett needed more light. The sky was a stunning blue, and with the light breeze, the air was rich with floral scents from all the flowers left around the gravestones. She inhaled the beauty, reminding herself that even though this place was hard for her to visit, today wasn’t about her or her loss. Leaving the others at the trucks, Amelia approached, and Beckett’s gaze met hers. Dark shadows lived in the depths of his gray eyes that looked so much darker today, and she suspected the darkness there wasn’t only about the loss of his father, but that he’d walked away from her in the hospital and had shut her out. But she was done with feeling hurt or confused. She knew what she wanted, the answer all too simple with Pops’ last bit of advice. Beckett.
For years, she’d run from her feelings, and avoided truly letting herself feel the heartbreak of losing Beckett. She’d simply left home, moved on, but failed to ever truly leave him behind. Because the truth was, there was no moving on from Beckett. He was her life, and she wasn’t going to run away from that any longer.
She walked between the headstones, too familiar with the area. To her right, at the very end of the cemetery beneath the huge shade trees was where her parents were buried, along with her grandmother. Pops’ ashes had been spread on the property, where he wanted to stay forever.
When she reached Jim’s casket, she placed the wreath on top and then placed her hand on the shiny wood, saying a little prayer for him before moving to Beckett’s side. She glanced his way, finding his head bowed again, and she didn’t hesitate in sliding her hand in his. His eyes slowly shut, and she heard his rough breath. Her guts twisted when he opened his eyes and tears were in them. She held his hand a little tighter.
As Beckett’s chosen family formed a circle around the casket, the minister began the ceremony and said, “Today we gather to celebrate the life of Jim Stone. We gather to share the pain…”
The ceremony continued, but Amelia couldn’t really hear the words, she could only see the pain rippling on Beckett’s face as each second went by. Brutal pain, cruel pain. She wished they didn’t have this in common, but she understood that heartache. Death wasn’t kind. Death was swift and cold. But she’d seen the other side; the bright side, where life got better, where smiles felt real and honest, and laughter overtook the misery.
Amelia only refocused on the minister when he asked, “Would anyone like to say a few a words?”
Beckett didn’t even look up. “No—”
“I would,” Amelia interjected.
Beckett’s gaze jerked to hers, uncertainty heavy on his face. “You don’t need to do that,” he said, firmly.
“I know,” she countered. “But I want to.”
He squeezed her hand, obviously to stop her, and she squeezed back, feeling like she knew exactly what steps to take forward. She was sick of getting life so wrong. Now she listened to her heart, and her heart knew the right path to take. Her heart knew how to get Beckett’s heart to hear her.
With force, she pulled her hand from his, although his hold tightened to keep her there next to him, and she settled in next to the minister. Before she began, she took out the piece of paper in her purse and looked around at her family, surprise in all of their faces. “I knew Jim before he lost his wife and after the devastating loss, and the moment I read the poem by Mary Frye, I knew I wanted to read it for Jim today.” She hesitated, drawing in a deep breath, and then began reading the poem:
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
(Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!)
When Amelia lowered the paper,she caught Beckett’s soft stare locked onto her, and then she noticed her sisters were crying, wrapped in Sullivan and Hayes’ arms. Everything in her heart told her this poem was perfect. She hoped—begged—that the universe would ensure this was the last time Beckett ever faced something so hard and felt alone. “It’s easy to speak about why Jim doesn’t have anyone else here to say goodbye to him. Why he lost all his friends, his business associates, his family. He no longer talked to anyone. But I believe that when Jim lost his beloved wife, he died alongside her that day.”
The slight breeze caused the flowers on the casket to flutter, almost as if Jim was nodding in agreement. She hoped that was true, and continued, “Instead of finding the beauty and the good left in his life, Jim stood at the grave and wept. He didn’t see the winds that blew. The diamonds glistening in the snow. He never felt the spatter of autumn rain again. He only saw the grave, the darkness, and could never see anything else.” A pain hit the back of her throat at the raw emotion filling Beckett’s eyes. She paused to collect herself before she went on, “Jim could never see anyone else.”
A tear slid down Beckett’s cheek before he wiped it away quickly. Amelia nearly sank to her knees at his despair, but swallowed her emotions needing to finish. “I was so mad at Jim for how he faded away from life. But…” her gaze fell to the casket, “I can’t be angry anymore. I can’t even pity him. I can only accept that he was lost without Tammy and the color had gone out of his life.”
She waited for Beckett to meet her gaze again before she smiled through the tears, “I also believe now, that when the birds quietly circle in flight, that’s Jim and Tammy together again. That when I’m admiring the soft starlight at night, amazed by the beauty, that’s the everlasting love Jim had for Tammy. And that now, what was so wrong is made right because he’s where he should have been all along. With Tammy.” She stepped closer to the casket and reached down, picking up some of the dirt. “Today I choose to forgive you, Jim. Forgive you for where you went so wrong. I wish you everlasting peace with Tammy.” She tossed the dirt onto the casket.
Beckett watched her closely as she returned to his side, and when she reached him, he did the most unexpected thing, he enveloped her in his arms. His head buried in her neck, and she felt him trembling. Felt his tears on her shoulder. And it occurred to her that she wasn’t the only one who’d done some soul searching over the last few days. For the first time ever, he allowed her to feel his weakness, sense his misery, and be the safe home he needed when things got hard.
Locked together, the minister finished the ceremony. Amelia watched Clara and Sullivan toss dirt onto the casket and say their goodbyes to Jim, as well as Maisie and Hayes, but Amelia didn’t step away. Didn’t move a single inch. She did the one thing she swore she’d do from this day forward. She held Beckett tight, and let his pain bleed into her.
* * *
Two hours later,Beckett returned home after completing the final paperwork the funeral home had for him. He entered his home, comforted by the scent of leather and wood that always lingered in this house. He dropped his keys on the entryway table and headed for the living room, where he spent most of his time whenever he was here. A bank of large windows allowed natural light to pour in and the mountains off in the distance were a welcome view. He stared out at the grassy meadow, feeling an odd mix of clarity and unease, which came as a shock. He expected to feel raw after the funeral, but there just wasn’t any room for that anymore. He was unsurprised when he heard the car drive up his driveway. And a warm comfort washed over him as he heard his front door open and shut and the click of high heels as she drew closer.
Then everything in his world rightened as Amelia said, “Beckett.”
He turned to face her. She still wore the black lace dress he’d seen her arrive in, her gorgeous hair in wild waves around her face, her piercing blue eyes all he could see. “What you did today…” he said, his voice thick. “What you said, Amelia, I’ve never heard anything so beautiful.”
“It’s beautiful because it’s true,” she said, moving closer. “Because that’s the way forward now. Forgiveness and peace.”
He closed the distance, sliding a hand against her lower back, bringing her close against him. “Your heart amazes me,” he said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “It blinds me with its kindness.” Tears welled in her eyes, but he pressed on. “The way you spoke about my father today, I’ve never seen things that way. It made me realize that he and I are not that much different. I cannot imagine a world where you’re not in it.” He caught a tear on her cheek and brushed it away with his knuckles. “I don’t know my way around all this, and I’m sorry I shut you out and hurt you. I want to do better. I just don’t know how.”
She leaned into his touch. “We can do this together. Get through this together, Beckett. When I lost my parents, I had my sisters to lean on and Pops. You don’t have to face all this by yourself. You have Hayes and Sullivan, my sisters, and me.”
“I do have that, don’t I?”
“You do,” she said, softly. “This is hard. Really hard. It’s okay to feel lost and raw and not sure which way you’re turning, but at the end of the day, I’ll be here and you don’t have to question anything or be any different than who you are, because I love you, Beckett.” She fisted her hands in his shirt. “I only want you. All of you.”
The coldness today brought was shattered by the warm affection in her eyes. “Say that again.”
She laughed gently. “I love you.”
Emotion squeezed his chest as he cupped her face. “I love you too, Amelia, and have from the day you tripped on the stairs in front of the high school and I caught you in my arms.” Needing her more than ever, he slanted his mouth over hers. The kiss was soft and sweet, without any of the rawness he usually offered.
He gathered her in his arms, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her into his bedroom at the end of the hallway. When he met the mattress, he laid her out, but she sat up immediately. She pushed his shirt up, and he helped her remove it. Her fingers quickly went to work on his belt and pants as he reached behind her and unzipped her dress. He only had removed her dress over her head when he felt her damp tongue slide across his cock. He groaned, the dress fluttering to the floor as he looked down. She took him in fully, her mouth moved back and forth, dragging pleasure across him, moving slowly, teasingly. Just how he liked it. And when she licked lower, taking his sac into her mouth and sucking, his eyes fluttered back into his head, sensation sweeping him away.
Until she took him deep into her mouth again and moved faster, sucked harder, and he refused to finish this way. “I need to be inside you,” he said, hearing the desperation in his voice. She gasped as he reached for her and he tossed her back on the bed. Her laughter—her beautiful laughter—surrounded him as he closed his body on hers, and she spread her legs for him, welcoming him close.
He reached for his nightside drawer to retrieve a condom when she grabbed his hand and said, “No, not today. I get the shot for birth control, and I need you, Beckett. I need to feel just you.”
Urgent now, he sensed the tremble of his hand as he slid his touch up her thigh, pushing her leg back as he shifted his hips closer. A low groan escaped him as her warm arousal coated the tip of his cock as he entered her. Determined to stay as close as he could, he took her mouth again, devouring her moan as he slid all the way to the hilt. So warm. So wet. He froze, right there, letting her hold him. “There’s no better feeling in the world than this right here,” he murmured against her lips.
“I bet I can prove you wrong.” She shifted her hips, and he sank in even deeper.
“Fucking hell, Am.” He grunted against her mouth, and then he began to move, keeping his body tight against her.
She moved with him, his pelvis grinding against her with every thrust forward.
He only broke the kiss when she had trouble kissing him back, her moans echoing the slaps of skin against skin. Dropping his head into her neck, kissing beneath her ear, he laced his fingers with her hands and took them above her head, and he rode her. Deep. Hard. Until she began quivering under him. Until he was trembling as her sweet heat went into convulsions, pulling his balls tight up against him. Until their moans mirrored each other, and he found a rhythm that would get them there. Only then did he rise on his arms and stare into her eyes, watching them widen. And when she lifted her hips higher yet, and he pumped up inside her, her eyes shut. Her chin rose, legs pointed straight out, and she went wild beneath him. His climax hit with little warning, burning up his spine until the pressure gave way to a fierce explosion that had him roaring with the intensity and pounding into her until he dropped down atop her, breathless and satisfied as her inner walls milked every drop he had to offer her.
He forced his mind back into his body. Amelia apparently had plans today, but so did he. He slowly withdrew his cock, inch by inch, feeling his seed escape down her thigh with him. Putting his weight on his arm, he shifted next to her, stroking her belly, waiting for her to acknowledge him. When she began to give a satisfied smile, he took that as the perfect opportunity for what he planned for next. Not hesitating, he reached behind the picture frame where he’d left a gift that his mother had given him in her will. He placed that gift on Amelia’s belly.
Her eyes snapped opened and she gasped.
“This was my mother’s engagement ring,” he explained, softly. “My parents’ story did not have a happy ending, but we will change that. We can make right what went so wrong in the Stone family.” When she stared at him with huge eyes, but stayed silent, he continued, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. I know I pushed you away this past week. But I don’t want to do that ever again. I want you to know every part of me. And I want to know every part of you. I know that you might not be ready for this, and we can take all the time you need. But this is what I want, Amelia. You, as my wife. It’s what I’ve always wanted. To share in the pain. To share in the happiness. To rebuild my family. With you.”
Her breath hitched. “I am ready for this. I’m ready for us, Beckett.”
His heart squeezed and so many deep cracks began to seal as he took the ring from her belly and dangled it on his finger. “Amelia Carter, will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she exclaimed. “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you.”
He slipped the ring onto her finger, and right as he slanted his mouth across hers, he heard a truck driving up his driveway. He’d recognize that rumble of an exhaust anywhere. “That’s Nash, I’m sure of it.”
“Oh, shit, we need to get dressed,” Amelia gasped, jumping out of bed. “Hurry. Hurry.”
“What is it?” he asked, not moving an inch.
She grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the bed. “You’ll see. Get dressed.”
Amelia re-dressed in record speed. Beckett was slower, and he left his shirt unbuttoned as he followed Amelia toward the front door. When she whisked the door opened, he froze, sure his eyes were wrong.
Nash stood by his truck, a big smile on his face. Behind that truck was a horse trailer and written on the side of that trailer read: Beckett Stone. River Rock, Colorado. He blinked and slowly looked at Amelia. “What is this?”
Her smile blinded him. “Your dream coming true.”