Say You Swear

Valentine’s Day

In the weeks that have passed, Noah and I have grown so much, both as a couple and as individuals. Together, we decided to take a semester off from school, so we could process and come to terms with all that happened to us. My parents were more than understanding, and while I didn’t want that for Noah, for his final semester as well as graduation to be delayed, he was the one who suggested it.

With everything that was going on, he had no time to heal. He was torn in half in December, only to be shredded into a million pieces come January. He thought he lost me, he lost our child, and then he lost his mother. Not only did he want time to heal, but he also needed it. We needed it.

So we took the time we deserved, packed up my dorm as well as his captain’s quarters, since neither of us would be returning to campus until the fall, when a new captain would be moved into Noah’s old space. And then we left for my parents’ house. My dad surprised us when we arrived, his man cave having been turned into a cozy little studio that he insisted Noah and I stay in.

Everyone wondered why we didn’t simply stay at the beach house, but I wanted a fresh start somewhere where he and I shared no pain, so that’s what we have.

But it’s Valentine’s Day today, and Noah wanted to bring me to my favorite place, so who was I to deny him?

With a long, settling sigh, I look out the window as we roll to a stop in the driveway; my excitement peaks, and I’m in a rush to jump out.

So, as soon as Noah puts the truck in park, I reach for the handle, but he quickly presses the lock button, and my head snaps his way.

With a smirk, he climbs out, then reaches back in and tugs me to him. He steps between my legs, and kisses me, his hands sinking into my hair. I breathe him in, my chest swelling, my arms wrapping around his neck. He lifts me from the seat, his hands cupping my ass as he presses my back against the side of the truck.

“We should go inside,” he says between kisses.

My pulse spikes, and I nod, pressing on his chest, so he lowers me to my feet.

As I round the hood and skip to the front door of the beach house, I can’t contain my smile at the fact that Noah and I have it all to ourselves for the entire weekend.

Once I unlock the door, I quickly spin, my shoulders falling against it as I watch my man walk up to me.

The prolonged anticipation is killing me, making my heart beat out of my chest, and Noah senses it. A single dark brow lifts as he grows suspicious.

“Juliet…”

“We missed so much time, Noah. I want it back.”

“Baby.” Anguish fills his voice, deep creases forming along his eyes as he reaches for me.

I grip his wrist, freeing his hand from my cheek and folding his fingers closed. I kiss his knuckles, and a frown builds across his face.

Twisting the knob, I push the door open behind me, blindly taking backward steps inside, because I don’t want to miss his reaction.

It takes him several moments to force his eyes from mine, but reluctantly, his are pulled to the living room.

His eyes widen, flicking across the space, and then they land on me.

“Ari…” he barely whispers.

I snag the red and white hats off of the back of the couch and walk to him. He bends the slightest bit, his gaze never leaving mine as I tug the Santa hat onto his head, and when I go to pull mine on, he takes it, placing it on me himself.

His arms come around me, his thumb teasing beneath my bottom lip, and the smile that curves my lips is soft. His eyes leave me then and he looks to the white flocked tree, standing tall in the corner of the room. It’s decorated in red and green lights, shiny silver bulbs covering it from top to bottom, a single present wrapped beneath it. Each wall is lined in colorful bright lights, and two stockings hang from the fireplace.

“Merry Christmas, Noah,” I whisper.

His jaw flexes as he stares at the Christmas tree, and then the mantel, where a tiny, porcelain set of angel wings sits, a red ribbon tied along its base.

And then he’s kissing me again. It’s slow and tender, and the ache in my chest deepens, but this time, it’s with longing and love.

Grabbing his hand, I lead him into the kitchen, freeing us both of our Santa hats and tossing them on the floor as we curve around the corner.

Silver and gold tinsel hang from the ceiling, matching confetti glittering the floor.

I let go of his hand and step toward the corner and click on a switch, and the mini disco ball sitting on the kitchen island flicks on, spinning and sparkling across the walls.

Hopping up on the counter, I look to Noah.

His chest heaves as he glances around the room, and he reaches up, gliding his fingers along one of the streamers hanging above him.

His eyes snap to mine, a war of raging emotions behind them.

“Come here.”

He does, and I open my legs for him. Noah slides right in, his hands coming down to grip my thighs, squeezing.

I grab the plastic tiara behind me and slip it on my head, and then I place his top hot on his.

Handing him a blow horn, I hold mine in my hand.

“Hey, Google,” I speak to the Google Home system, “Press play.”

Noah’s eyes narrow, and then a ten-second countdown begins.

Noah’s lips twitch and a light laugh leaves me.

I count down the last four seconds, and he follows my lead, lifting the horn to his lips, and together, we blow.

But Noah quickly tears it away, slamming his lips to mine, and this time, it’s not soft or slow.

It’s deep and dirty, and my core clenches.

I moan into his mouth, and when he finally tears away, he bites at my lips, a raspy groan leaving him.

“Happy New Year’s.” My words are choppy, needy, and his eyes darken even more.

His eyes clench closed, and his forehead falls to mine.

Sliding from the countertop, I push up on my toes, kissing the corner of his mouth and whisper, “Wait right here. I’ll be right back.”

“Baby—” He grips my hips, halting me, seeking out my lips, but I evade with a smile, chuckling when his warning glare meets mine.

“One minute, Noah.” I smile and quickly walk away, pinning him with one last look. “Stay.”

I run into the downstairs bathroom, where I hid what I need, knowing he is likely to hunt me down if I take any longer than the one minute I promised.

Tearing off my leggings and T-shirt, I quickly change, carefully pulling the strategically placed bobby pins from my hair. Up, it looked like a mess, but down, as I shake it out, it’s as if I just pulled hot curlers from it.

I dash out, grabbing the stereo system remote on my way, and when I step into the kitchen, I don’t know why, but nerves swirl through my stomach.

He senses my approach and glances back.

His entire body stiffens, and as if it’s set to slow motion, his body slowly faces me.

His eyes fall to my feet, inching their way up, and my god, does he take his time, being sure to cover every inch of my body before he, finally, meets my gaze. His lips part, his shoulders fall, and he swallows hard.

My heart beats out of control, and I slip closer, hooking my finger with his and slowly dragging him beside me.

He doesn’t watch where we’re going, doesn’t resist. He stares at my face, and I could cry at the struck expression on his.

Pushing the sliding door open, I lead us to the back patio, clicking the switch just before I exit.

The lights flick on, twinkling above and around us. The patio furniture has been pushed against the deck walls, and I laid a blue carpet across the cherry wood.

Noah’s lips press into a tight line as we step into the center of it, and he knows what to do.

He takes my hand in one of his, the other planting across my lower back.

He yanks me flush against him, the satin of my gown now flat against his chest.

“Look behind you,” I whisper.

Noah’s gaze narrows, his eyes staying on mine until the last possible second, and then he flicks them toward the wall, where a small banner hangs, reading, Avix Football Annual Gala.

His hands twitch against me, clenching. He presses me closer, his eyes coming back to mine.

I smile, and then I press play, tossing the remote to the side.

His head darts up when his coach’s voice comes over the speakers, and he stops moving, listening to the kind words the man who mentored him for the past four years spoke of him that night, the words he missed.

His chest rises and falls, a shattered breath slipping past his lips, and when Trey comes on, asking me to accept the award on his behalf, Noah chuckles, and my god, it’s a settling sound.

In the next moment, Noah is hugging me to him, squeezing me tightly.

“Baby.” A heavy breath pushes from his lips, and he pulls back, his palms flattening on my cheeks. “What did you do?”

“I told you…” Tears brim in my eyes. “We missed so much, and I’m not okay with that. I wanted it back. So I gave it to us. I was gone for what should have been our first Christmas, New Year’s, and the football gala.” I shake my head. “I refuse to miss a single thing that was meant to be ours.”

A shuddered breath leaves him and he brings his mouth closer, gliding his lips across mine.

“I love you, Noah. With all that I am and more.”

“I love you, baby. Always.” His eyes gloss over, his hands shaking against me. “I need to feel you.”

With a sly smile, I slip my arms around his neck, and whisper, “Then take me to my room.”

I yelp, when in the same second, I’m tossed over Noah’s shoulder, and just like that… we’re headed to my room.

Noah

I take the steps two at a time, and when I push into her room, my feet jerk to a stop. Holy shit.

Fuck me.

Slowly, I lower her to her feet, my eyes flicking to hers.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” she whispers, a hint of bashfulness washing over her cheeks.

I squeeze her palms, but quickly release her, moving to the calendar lying open on her bed, red rose petals all around it.

The room itself is lined with red-dimmed lights, and flameless candles are lit all around the room, something I should be doing for her. Something I planned to do for her, the items in my bag in the truck proof of that, but this…

The calendar.

The item that led her back to me.

But it’s not the same one. It’s open to February, this month, and the image on the top half is of her, wearing my letterman’s jacket. Wearing nothing but my letterman’s jacket.

She’s angled to the side slightly, sitting back on her knees, her legs bent just right to hide what’s mine, the jacket pulled in close, but only enough so that the buttons of the jacket hides her nipples, the swell of her breasts, her breastbone, and stomach on full display.

Her brown hair is down and silky straight, her eyes covered in golden glitter, her lashes thick and painted black. Her arms are bent as well, gripping onto the collar as she stares straight into the camera, the tips of her blue-painted nails, the only thing showing through the sleeves, it’s so large on her tiny frame.

I pick it up and look to her.

She smiles from the doorway, her gown glowing against the shine of the candles in the room.

“Wait until you see the ones in your jersey.”

Heat pulls at my groin, and I stalk toward her, but her hands dart up, halting me, and I glare.

Ari chuckles softly, her palms gliding up my chest. “Turn to July.”

“You covered in red and blue paint?” I picture it, her body dripping with color and nothing else.

Laughter leaves her again and she shakes her head, a softness falling over her.

Eager for more, I quickly turn to August, and my muscles grow weak. I don’t remember moving backward, but suddenly, I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at a photo of her and me, the one my mom’s nurse took of us back in November.

But the photo, it’s not the one I saw. It’s not the one where we’re smiling for the camera, the one my mother had up in her room for her to see, for us to see. It’s the moments before.

When I was overcome with Ari’s understanding as she led us to the fountain rather than timestamping sorrow to the memory of fall pumpkins and hay bales.

I’d sat down, lowered her into my lap, angled her so she was sideways, her shoulder pressed into my chest, and called her eyes to mine. The shot was taken right then, when she looked to me, and I see it there, what I had hoped for then, but couldn’t dare claim, just in case.

Her love for me.

It’s so obvious.

My Juliet.

“Where… where did you get this?” My voice is a raspy whisper.

She comes to me, steps between my legs and lifts my head, her hands gliding into my hair.

“Your mom… she left it for me.”

My lungs squeeze, and I grip her, gently dropping the calendar to the floor on the other side of the bed.

“There’s more—” she begins, but I’ve pulled her down, taking her lips as my own.

Because they are.

Every fucking part of her, is mine.

I kiss her savagely, my tongue tangling with hers, and then I’m sucking hers, biting at her lips, chin, neck. “More will have to wait. I need inside you. Now, now. Right now.”

“Then why are your sweats still on?”

I groan, tossing her on the bed, kicking my joggers off in one motion, and then I’m settled over her, between her thighs and that hint of wild clashes in her brown eyes.

My hand slips under the dress, my palms clamping around her lower thigh, and I drag the material with me. “Is this the dress? The one you were going to wear for me that night?”

She nods, licking her lips as she watches my hand grow closer and closer to her sweet spot. “My favorite color.”

I groan, and then my muscles lock, because as I reach the apex of her thigh, there’s no soft cotton, no silky string. No panties to be found.

Ari bites her lip, presses her head into the pillow and smirks. “Exactly what you’d have found that night. Me, bare for you.”

I groan, sliding my knees back on the mattress, my eyes holding hers as I lower, hovering an inch over her clit.

My tongue slips out, swiping across her so fast, she doesn’t have a single second to enjoy the heated feeling. A hint of a glare forms at the edges of her eyes, and then I blow warm air over the wet spot, and her chest rises.

“Don’t be a tease.”

“What song you got for that?” I pinch her clit between my knuckles, and she squirms.

Her mouth opens, and when nothing comes out, it opens wider, but this time in shock.

“Did you just stump me?” she pants with a frown.

“I told you I would one day.”

“This is trickery, Mr. Riley.”

Chuckling, I lower, wink, and then I’ve got a mouth full of pussy.

I suck her slow, rolling my tongue along her clit, and when she begins to yank on my hair, I glide two fingers inside her, offering the pressure of a cock and the heated magic of a tongue.

Her knees come up, clamping over my ears, and I wrap my free arm around her, squeezing her thighs as I sit up on my knees. Ari’s lower half is off the mattress completely, nothing but her shoulder blades and head lying flat.

She slashes around. “Oh my god, Noah, please. More.”

She dances against my face, searching for her orgasm, and I’m about to give it to her.

But then she yanks free, my hand sliding from her, and she shoves me backward, my head meeting the edge of the bed.

My baby climbs right up, right over me, and with her royal blue dress clung around her waist, the tail of it pulled around us, her pussy sucks my cock inside her.

“You want to drive?” I push her hair over her shoulder and her eyes flash. “Hm?” She clenches around me, and my eyes close.

“Hold on to me, Noah.”

My chest rumbles and I do as she says. I squeeze her ass, giving it a sweet little slap, and her palms fall to my chest.

Her hips begin to circle, and I draw my legs up, allowing her ass to fall a little lower, my cock to slide in a little farther, and she moans.

“Faster, Juliet.”

She picks up her pace, her hips lifting then coming back down with hard full slaps. I reach up, hooking my finger around the strap of her gown, and tug her to me.

Her lips clash with mine, her tongue diving inside my mouth instantly, and I lift my hips pressing back into her. She tears at my hair, and when she rips away, burying her face in my neck, her whimpers send chills down my spine.

She starts to shake, her pace slowing, so I scoot down the mattress, until my feet hit the floor, and then I stand, taking her with me.

She yelps, a low laugh escaping her, but she claims my mouth once more, her body rolling over me, searching for more.

“One second, baby. This is going to be so good, I promise, but the dress, the dress has got to go. I need to see these.” I bite her through the fabric as I spin her around, setting her on the edge of the dresser. Her hands leave me and she hardly reaches behind her, unzipping her gown, but my hands come around to finish the job. I tug it up and over her head, letting it fall to the floor.

Ari’s shoulders hit the hall with a thump, and she uses it as leverage to rock her hips into me. I tug her ass to the edge, bringing her knees up so the arches of her feet are pressed along the edge.

Driving my hips forward, I sink into her at an angle we’ve yet to try, and it’s a fucking keeper. “So deep,” I rasp.

She answers with a thrilling, little mew, her tongue sneaking out to wet her lips.

Bending forward, I capture her right nipple in my mouth and her back arches into me. I roll my lips around the hard peak, fucking her deep and hard.

And she cries for more.

“Noah.” My name is a soft demand.

“You want more?” I bite her a bit, pressing in hard, and grinding against her clit. “You want me to go faster?”

“You know I do.”

I withdraw, and she whimpers, her eyes flying open.

My cock aches, but she loves this. The anticipation, the burn low in her core.

“But?”

She shakes, not finishing the game we play, but goes straight for it, saying what she wants. “Give me what’s mine, Romeo. Faster. Harder… now.”

A growl shakes in my chest, and I curl my palms beneath her ass for a better grasp. “Lock ‘em tight, baby, and quick.”

Her legs cross behind my back, her arms wrapping around my neck, and stretching until her chin is pointed at the ceiling when I tug on her hair, now tethered tightly around my wrist.

And then I give her exactly what she asked for.

I fuck her hard, fast, and raw.

The loud clap of slick and sweaty bodies meeting fills the room, and she whimpers into the air, her muscles locking around me.

“Suck on my cock, Juliet. Squeeze me.”

She does, her pussy walls clenching around me, flexing over and over, and then she starts to shake.

Blood surges through my veins, and my toes curl, my fingertips biting into her skin. I release her hair, and instantly, her mouth comes down on mine, but she can only begin to kiss me, because in the next second, she’s coming.

Her lips part, her eyes clench closed, and a long, heady moan fills her throat.

She grips my face, pulling my lips an inch from hers, and whispers, “Your turn. Come for me, Noah. Now.”

“Always, baby.”

I drop my mouth to her neck, sucking her skin as her pussy sucks the cum from my body. It’s fucking powerful.

All-consuming.

Moments later, her body collapses into mine, and I gladly accept her weight, pulling out and scooping her into my arms. But as I move to the bed, she shakes her head, lowering it to my shoulder.

Her hand comes up to glide along my jaw, her smile so soft my damn chest grows tight.

“Take me to the living room. I want to show you something.”

Without a word, I push her hair behind her ear, snag the blanket hanging off the bed and lay it over her. She drags it up to her chin, her eyes glued to my face as I do what she asked.

I carry my baby out the door, down the stairs, and into the living room, where our missed Christmas awaits.

Arianna

The moment Noah lowers me to the fluffy rug in front of the tree, he moves over to the fireplace and lights the logs set inside. He slips behind me, pulling my back to his chest as we watch the flames take over, adding a little more light to the twinkling Christmas surrounding us.

I glance under the tree and my stomach swims with anxiousness.

This is months in the making, long before my accident, and I’ve never been prouder of something in my life. I’m about to give Noah a gift that I have no doubt will mean more than even I can fathom.

Stretching my toes from beneath the blanket, I tap on the red wrapping, and Noah’s head shifts, his cheek pressed to mine.

“Is that for me?”

I nod against him. “It is.”

“That’s not fair, Juliet.” He kisses my temple.

“I can think of several ways you can even the score…”

He groans playfully, his hands coming down to tickle my ribs.

I chuckle, dropping my head back on his shoulder, so I can meet his eyes, and he lowers his lips to mine. I smile against him, whispering, “Open it, Noah.”

He holds my gaze a long moment, and then gently sets me aside and leans over, snagging it from beneath the tree. He eyes the packaging, the label reading from Santa to Noah, and a small grin forms across his face.

He looks up again, and I nod, my hands tethering together, my nerves at an all-time high.

As if in slow motion, he tugs the ribbons, and they fall from the side. The packaging is torn, and he gets to the white box beneath it.

My lips press together in a tight line and then Noah is lifting the lid, the contents of what’s inside coming into view, freezing his hands in midair.

His entire body is frozen, but ever so slowly, he allows the top to fall and it’s with shaky hands that he reaches inside, freeing the soft, black leather book.

Reluctantly, his eyes come to mine, but only for a second, before they go right back.

Noah falls onto his ass, and he swallows hard. “Juliet…” he hardly breathes. “What is this?”

Tears prick my eyes, and I fight to keep my breaths from growing choppy.

I scoot closer, slowly tracing the cursive on the cover.

The title no more than two words.

Riley Recipes.

Noah’s hand comes up, clenching over his mouth and jaw and he shakes his head. “Baby… I can’t,” he croaks, his eyes clouded as he looks at me.

“Look inside.”

A shuddered exhale leaves him, and he squares his shoulders, doing exactly that.

The moment his eyes land on the crisp, cream page, the recipe book falls to the floor, and he buries his face in his palms.

When he looks up, it’s to grab me, to drag me to him and drape me across his lap, to bring my lips to his, so he can kiss me with every bit of himself.

It takes several moments for him to pull back, and when he does, I smile softly.

“Can I read it to you?”

He nods, locks his arms around me, and closes his eyes, hiding his face in my chest as I pick up the cookbook.

“This book is for my favorite boy. The boy who gave my life meaning and purpose. It’s for the boy who made me a mother, the one thing I aspired to be since before I could remember. It’s for the boy who surpassed my every expectation and grew to be a man I couldn’t be prouder of. Truly, my soul can hold no more pride as you’ve taken up every inch already, and I know you’ll only come to be even more astonishing.

This recipe book is for you, my sweet Noah, and inside, you will find me in memory. My heart is so full, as I hope your, one day, wife and children’s bellies will be as you turn the page and create for them all the meals I created for you. And just like that, you’ll find I’m forever with you, alive in aromas that shall one day fill your home as they filled ours.

My hope is that you’ll add to this someday, create more Riley family recipes with the woman who holds your heart in the palm of her hand, just as you hold hers.

With every bit of my love,

Mom.”

Tears fall from my eyes, and Noah’s thumbs come up to catch them, his own cloudy with emotion.

“On one of our visits with her, I asked her if she would be willing to help me make this for you, and of course, she said yes. I started calling her when the timing worked out, and I’d record while she spoke. Some days we’d only get through a half of a recipe, and others, she’d fly through two. I typed them all up and the people at the print company helped me get them all together.”

Noah’s throat bobs as he swallows, and he shakes his head. “This is…”

He’s speechless, but he doesn’t need to use words for me to understand what he’s feeling.

I just do.

His eyes cling to mine, and I’m overcome by the pure adoration within them.

This man loves me with all that he is… and more.

I’m not sure what I did in my life to deserve him, but he’s everything that I have ever hoped for, beyond so.

I spin in his lap, my legs coming around behind him, my hands gliding up his neck until my thumbs are sliding along his jaw, the tips of my other fingers grazing the edge of his fade. “I love you, Noah Riley.”

A broken breath escapes him, his eyes clenching closed. “Santa did so good.”

A laugh escapes me and a small smile curves his mouth.

Noah kisses me then, his hands sinking into my hair, as he has always done, but it’s now his new routine each time we leave, arrive, meet or part. His touch is never far. Ever. It’s as soothing as it is painful, but only because of how deep the reasons for it run.

Noah’s afraid. Afraid that, at any moment, something could come along and take me from him, but we won’t let that happen. Not again. Never again.

Beginning the night my memories came back, I laid in Noah’s arms and wrote down the night he and I met, the conversation we had, as well as the bonfire that followed. Every night after that, I did the same thing, telling our story in a journal with doodles and scribbles, and yes, colorful hearts. I’ve already filled two, having cracked open my third just yesterday.

“I can’t wait to add today to my journal.”

“You just started on our camping trip last night. You’ve got a long ways to go.”

“I know, but still.”

Noah’s lips graze mine, his eyes closing, his tone oh, so soft, as he says, “What if… you’re never caught up?” A small frown pulls at my brows, and Noah blindly curls a piece of my hair around his finger. “What if I keep giving you more to write about?”

The hand now tracing his tattoos pauses, and my eyes fly to his. He takes his time, watching as he releases the dark lock, and then pushes it from my shoulder when it falls. Only then do his eyes come to mine.

“What if every day that follows this one, I give you something else to write?”

“Noah.” My heart pounds wildly.

His lips curve into a small smirk, and he hooks his finger beneath my necklace, the gift he gave me the moment I woke up this morning, a silver heart dangling from it.

He said it will tarnish in time, the sterling unable to hold its shine, but said maybe when that time comes, he’ll be able to afford a real one to replace it.

“I told you my mom gave me something the day she died, something she and I found at the pier, but I never told you what it was.” He spins the heart until its clasp is in the front and he undoes it, holding it in his open palm. His eyes never leave mine. “I want you, Arianna Johnson, like no man has ever wanted a woman before. I’m sure of it. I want to give you the life you dreamed of, the one you shared with me. I want to give you a home on the ocean, one that will be ours, where the back deck faces the ocean, so we can sit outside at night while the sun sets, but only so we can watch the way the moon bounces off the water the way you love. I want to come home and cook for you while you sit back and watch, our little one in your arms.”

My tears fall in heavy streaks down my cheeks, but I don’t even want to blink. I don’t want to miss a single expression on his face.

“I want to give you everything you could ever want, and then I want to give you even more. But first.” He opens his palm, and then that heart that was around my neck is opened, and a small, silver band falls out, right into my hands.

I gasp, having had no idea it was a locket. “Noah…”

“First,” he repeats, his knuckles lifting my chin, calling my eyes to his. “First, I want to marry you.”

A cry slips past my lips, my hand coming to cover my mouth.

“Marry me, Juliet. We can wait until you’re done with school, or we can drive to a chapel right now, I don’t care. Marry me.”

I’m nodding before he’s even done speaking, my lips smashing with his as I pull him as close as I can get him, and it’s not close enough.

It will never be close enough.

But forever is a damn good start.

“You will?” he rasps.

“Of course I will.”

His palms shake as he grips my cheeks, his eyes piercing mine. “Say you swear?”

Placing my palm over his tattoo, I recite its meaning.

“Fear not the fall, but the life that comes from having never leaped at all.” I smile through my tears. “I’ll always leap if the jump leads me to you, Noah Riley. Always.”

“And forever.”

“I swear.”

He kisses me, and I get lost in the man before me.

My Romeo.

My fiancé.

My everything.