Under the Wishing Tree (Oakwood Hollow #1)

10. Present

10

Present

Graham

The walk back to Eden’s house felt like I was retracing steps taken in a different life. If I’d felt any hesitation about coming back here, the reasons all but vanished the moment I saw Eden again. The weight I’d carried since the attack, the sleepless nights and the haunting memories, all faded into the background.

We walked in silence, my hand holding hers, our footsteps the only sound in the stillness. As we turned the corner, Eden’s house came into view, the soft light glowing from the porch like it had been waiting for us.

“I thought about this place all the time,” I murmured as I gingerly made my way up the steps. A bit of pain still lingered, particularly when navigating uneven surfaces, but it was miles away from where I started. “Even when everything felt hopeless, I thought about returning here. To you.”

Eden paused at the door, her hand resting on the knob. She looked up at me with a soft gaze, then pushed open the door.

The warmth of her house enveloped me as soon as I stepped inside. Everything was the same—the soft light, the way the floor creaked underfoot in some places.

After taking our shoes off at the foyer, Eden seemed to falter. “Are you hungry?” she asked, looking around the living room awkwardly. “Or do you want a drink?”

I reached for her hand and pulled her closer. “I have everything I could ever want right here,” I said, and kissed her, savoring the moment, celebrating the sheer miracle of being alive.

I’d kissed Eden a thousand times in my dreams, never knowing if it would ever come true. Now here we were, her lips soft and warm against mine, and it was better than anything I could have ever imagined.

With her hand still in mine, she carefully led the way up the stairs and into her bedroom, where the delicate light of the bedside lamp cast shadows against the walls. There was no hesitation in her eyes as she slipped the jacket off my shoulders, a smile touching her lips when she saw the sky blue sweater. “You still have it.”

“Of course. It was a gift.” My hands trembled as I reached for the hem of the sweater and, along with my undershirt, lifted them over my head. I had thought about this moment many times before, had wondered what Eden would think once she saw what had become of me. And now, here I was, about to take off all my armor and lay myself bare.

A soft gasp escaped her lips as her eyes landed on the scars that stretched across my chest. Jagged, pale lines etched into my skin, a reminder of the attack that had taken almost everything from me. But there was no pity in her gaze, no disappointment. Just a quiet understanding that loosened the knots in my chest.

I unbuttoned my pants and let them fall to the ground, allowing Eden’s eyes to travel downward, to the scar on my right leg where the shrapnel had torn through muscle and bone. I had almost lost that leg twice over the past year, first to the attack and, later, to an infection.

“I was one of the lucky ones,” I said, my throat tight. Other people had lost far more.

She reached up and touched her fingers to the raised scars on my chest, her touch so light, so careful, it made the breath catch in my throat. “Does it still hurt?”

“No,” I said, my voice raw. “But I’m not the same man you met two years ago.”

“Maybe not, but you’re still the man I’ve loved everyday since,” she said, her palm flat over my heart. Then, without a word, she leaned in and pressed her lips to my scars, dropping gentle kisses on my chest that felt as if she was trying to glue the broken pieces of me back together.

Overcome with emotion, I kissed her, my hands finding her waist and pulling her closer, her warmth seeping into the coldest parts of me. A few moments later, she stood back and began to undress. Our gazes locked as pieces of her clothing fell to the floor until she was left completely bare.

She was even more beautiful than I remembered.

I touched her, my calloused palms a contrast to her smooth skin as I retraced the curves of her body. “There were so many times over the past year that I almost gave up,” I whispered, dropping a kiss on her shoulder. “But the thought of you kept me going.”

I bent down to retrieve a package from my pants pocket, and she plucked it from my finger, taking her time unwrapping the condom and rolling it onto me.

Then she placed her palms on my chest and backed me onto the bed, sitting me down. She climbed between my legs and straddled my lap, her arms wrapped around my neck. Without breaking eye contact, she lifted her hips and lowered herself onto me, her heat enveloping me, surrounding me completely.

She stilled for a moment, her eyes burning into mine. “I missed you.”

I buried my face in the crook of her neck and murmured against her skin, “I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”

I gasped when she began to rock her hips, gentle movements that had every nerve in my body reeling. I held her close, my hands splayed across her back, feeling the shift of her muscles as she moved, trying not to rush, yet desperate for more.

We moved together effortlessly, our bodies remembering each other despite the time apart. Her fingers tangled in my hair, her lips brushing against my ear as she moaned. After a while, her movements became more urgent, her breathing growing quicker. I lifted my head to look at her, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, her eyelids heavy with desire. She was so beautiful, it made my heart clench.

I slid my hand up her neck and dragged her lips down to mine, pouring everything I had into that kiss. She broke away with a gasp, her movements becoming erratic, her muscles trembling, teetering on the edge.

“Let go,” I whispered, sliding a hand between us and finding her sensitive spot. “I’ve got you.”

She cried out, her back arching as waves of pleasure washed over her. I held her tight, my fingers digging into her hips, feeling every tremor, every shudder that coursed through her body. The sight of her coming undone pushed me over the edge and I buried my face in her neck, muffling my groan as my own release crashed over me.

Later, we lay together face to face in the dark, our fingers intertwined on the pillow between us as we talked about the past year. I shared what I could, my voice low as I recounted waking up in a sterile hospital room, and the confusion that followed.

Eden listened, her eyes never leaving mine, as I detailed the slow, painful recovery process—the endless days that blurred together and the long nights spent wondering if I’d ever see her again.

“Graham,” Eden said some time later as my eyes were drifting down.

“Mmm?”

“Where will you go? After this?”

I had lived a mercurial existence, going wherever the Army sent me, never quite finding a place that felt like home. But lying next to her, I knew something inside me had shifted.

“I was thinking of sticking around here,” I said, meeting her eyes in the dark. “If that’s okay with you.”

She nodded, her fingers squeezing mine. “I’d love that.”

I rolled over and kissed her again and, for the first time in a long time, I felt completely at peace. I could stay here forever—in this town, in this bed, in this kiss—and never want for more.

I might have been lost that day at the train station, but I had found my bearings. Everything I’d been missing, everything I thought I’d never have, was right here in front of me.

With Eden, I’d found a home.