Page 43

Chapter 42

Lily

T his past weekend was a dream come true.

I don’t even know how to describe the feeling other than to say I feel like I’m floating.

The book signing was the most amazing professional experience of my life. Julia from the bookstore and the readers have posted so many pictures and reels, add in the release of Love on the Lake , which instantly became a best seller, Tyler flying to New York, and him scoring in the game yesterday, I can’t think of one thing that would make this more perfect.

Except maybe some donuts this morning, but neither of us had time to go to the store.

“You know, I’ve never asked you this, but how do you like your eggs?” Tyler asks me while glancing over his shoulder at me.

After we got in last night, it was late by the time Tyler rolled from being on the team plane. We both collapsed in his big bed, wrapped ourselves around each other, and I slept better than I have in what feels like weeks.

“I’m really not that picky. Some days, I like them scrambled. Other days, I like them runny on toast. Beggars can’t be choosers, I’m just grateful you make them at all.” I toss him a smile while biting on my bottom lip to tease him, and his eyes darken as he scans me from head to toe. I’m wearing one of his Tarpons T-shirts, nothing else, and he knows it.

Giving him a wink, I move about the kitchen to turn on the coffee pot and pull out bananas, strawberries, and protein powder to make us smoothies as well. Tyler has to be at the practice facility in a couple of hours, and I need to get to work and start responding to social media posts. Happy posts, exciting posts, posts that make my heart so full.

Side by side, we make breakfast in silence, that is except for the blender. It’s the good kind of silence too, the kind where there’s that deep feeling of contentment that says, “This is where I belong,” and without a doubt, I do.

Climbing up onto the island, I sip my drink as he plates our food. His back is to me. He’s not wearing a shirt, just a pair of athletic shorts, and I blatantly admire how broad and strong he looks. His back is smooth, and it perfectly narrows to his waist, where he has two dimples sitting there just begging to be touched.

Mine.

All mine.

“What are you looking at?” he asks, catching me ogling his backside.

“Perfection,” I tell him, and he laughs. All of the muscles in his body are relaxed and this is the most at ease I’ve seen him in a long time. He’s happy, and I’m happy that I get to play a role in this.

He picks up our plates and sets them on the counter next to me. Today, he made us scrambled eggs with Swiss and spinach. The blue light of the tank glows on his legs and feet.

“Have I ever told you that the blue-and-yellow fish you have in the tank is my favorite?”

He raises a brow as he grabs us some forks. “No, but don’t you think that’s a bit mean for the other fish? You picked the biggest and prettiest one.”

I frown. “Are you joking right now?”

He smirks. “Of course I am. They’re fish,” he says as he picks up the smoothie and swallows almost half of it in one go.

“I see how it is, Mr. Funny Guy.” My foot reaches for him, and I drag him between my legs. He sets his cup down and then wraps his hand around the back of my neck, long fingers threading into my hair.

“I am a funny guy.”

“I know you are,” I tell him, looking up into his handsome face.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you in my house?”

“No.” I wrap my heels around his calves. “But I’m thinking you should.”

“Well, I do. Also, just so there’s no confusion, it’s your house, too.” His thumb swipes underneath my chin, and then he tilts my head backward.

“So does that mean Dory is mine, too?” I wag my brows.

He laughs. “Dory? That’s what you named the fish? Not very original,” he teases.

I shrug. “Ehh, it works.”

“You work,” he says, licking his lips.

And folks, that’s all it takes for all thoughts of breakfast to leave the room. His gaze locks on to my mouth, and my stomach tightens.

“Why do I feel like I can’t get enough of you? I just had you twenty minutes ago, and I already want you again,” he tells me, his voice rough with longing.

“Then take me.” After all, who am I to complain?

Not needing any more permission, his hands wrap around my hips, and he pulls me to the edge of the counter and flush against him. My feet move and now hook around the back of his thighs. I hold on to his waist, as I know by the look in his eyes, I’m about to be annihilated.

Slipping his hands under my shirt, he drags them up my body, taking the shirt with them. My arms lift on their own, and he pulls it right off me, leaving me stark naked on his counter.

“So fucking beautiful,” he mumbles as his eyes drift over me and then come back to mine. His hands fall to my shoulders, where he drags them down my arms, his thumbs tracing my collarbones and then the bottom curve of each breast. It feels so sensual, my core clenches.

Needing to feel his skin against mine, I dip my fingers under his waistband until I have a solid hold and push. His shorts drop to the floor, he steps out of them and wastes no time wrapping his arms around me and crushing his mouth to mine.

I will never tire of kissing him.

Tyler worships me with his mouth and his hands as he lays me back on the cold counter, slides me to the edge, and then enters me. Sparks fly behind the backs of my eyes at the feeling of us being connected.

Will it always feel like this?

I sure hope so.

I want this man for the rest of my life. How I feel about him is so different from how I felt when I was with Dean that they are incomparable. I always said I’d never date another athlete, but I don’t feel like football comes first. I feel like his career and his love for me are completely separate and don’t compete with each other. I feel like he truly sees me and accepts me for me. I feel supported and encouraged, and he makes me want to be the best version of myself. I feel gratitude and blessings. Also love. So much love.

My heels hook together behind him, and I do my best to anchor myself as he slides us back and forth on the counter with each drag of his hips.

Messy hair, dark passion-filled eyes, and swollen lips are almost enough to undo me, and I know this isn’t going to last long. Not that I need it to because I don’t. This man was made for me.

Sliding his palms over my breasts, he slows for a moment as he becomes transfixed, kneading them. His thumbs circle both, and a streak of longing hits so hard it shoots straight down my spine.

“Tyler.” His eyes lift to mine. “More,” I tell him, needing to feel him as out of control as I do.

“As you wish.” He drops his forehead to the middle of my chest, his hands slide to my waist, grip me hard, and I know he’s about to send us both over the edge.

The feel of him taking me, consuming me, and hitting that spot so deep in me, my eyes slam shut as blinding white light flashes, and love drowns me. I’m shaking, and I know he feels me contract around him as he picks up his speed.

“So good, Lil. So good,” he barely gets out as he slams into me and stills, his head turning so he can lay his face against me. His forehead is sweaty, his hair is a little damp, and I love it as I run my fingers through it and let his breathing calm.

Eventually, he rolls his face back across my chest and then looks up at me. His eyes are warm, and the only thing shining back at me is pure adoration.

“I love you,” he whispers. It’s only been a couple of days, and there’s still that level of vulnerability that we’re expressing with one another, but I know there will never be anyone but him.

I can’t stop the smile that takes over. “I love you, too.”

He lets out a deep sigh and lies back down on me. My legs and my arms are wrapped around him as much as they can be and then, out of nowhere, he stiffens.

“What’s wrong?”

Slowly, he stands, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Did you hear that?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.

“Hear what?” I’m so confused.

Tyler’s cheeks turn a deep red. “Speaking of eggs,” he mumbles, and now I’m even more curious. “I have something I want to show you.”

“Really? What?”

He keeps one hand on my stomach and runs the other over his face. “It’s outside.”

I grin. “Then you’re going to have to move so I can get up and get dressed.”

He pulls me in tighter. “But I like it here. I would stay here all the time if I could.” One side of his mouth quirks up.

“Maybe we head upstairs after we go outside, eat those eggs you made, which I’m certain are delicious, and continue this for a little longer?”

“Upstairs.” He nods like this is a good idea.

“Someone got me dirty, and I need a shower.” I drag my fingertips down the ripples of his stomach.

He twitches inside me, and I know it won’t be long before he’s ready to go again.

“I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. Should’ve just let you find this later.” He lets out a sigh.

“Okay, tell me what’s out there and then let’s go upstairs.”

He looks toward the back door, then toward the stairs longingly.

“Can’t. It’s one of those things that has to be seen. I’m not even sure you would believe me if I told you anyway.”

“Color me super intrigued.” I smile real big at him, and he rolls his eyes.

Letting out a deep sigh, he steps away from me and opens a kitchen drawer to grab me a clean hand towel. Then he picks up his shirt and hands it to me. “This will have to do. It’s long enough.” And it is. His shirts hit me mid-thigh.

I jump down off the counter, and we dress quickly, then he takes me by the hand to lead me outside. Instantly, we’re hit with a wave of humidity. Most people hate this feeling, but I love it.

“So I might have gone a little overboard with trying to say I’m sorry,” he mumbles. It’s bright out, and I have to squint to look at him.

“What do you mean?” The water from the canal is sparkling from the mid-morning sun, palm trees are lightly swaying, and it’s then that I see what he’s talking about and gasp.

“Tyler.”

“Sweetheart.”

“Are those what I think they are?” I point, and my eyes begin to burn.

“If by that, you think they’re chickens, then yes.”

I spin to face him.

“You got us chickens.”

“Ha. No. I got you chickens. Those feathered friends are all yours,” he declares.

Behind the house, up close to the patio and in the shade is a two-story chicken coop with the house on top, the bottom screened in so they can roam around, and then an extra screened-in section off to the side where a person can enter the coop.

“Can we even have these here?”

I’m in shock. So much shock I don’t even know where to look first.

“Well, I did check the city ordinance, and they are allowed in Hillsborough County. They’re supposed to be housed at least two hundred feet from your nearest neighbor, which obviously we are less than that, so I went on both sides up and down the block and asked the neighbors if they minded. They aren’t running free, they’re kept in a coup, so I didn’t think it would be a problem. I just don’t know how loud they will get or how smelly, but everyone was cool with it, and Jan next door asked for extra eggs if we had them.”

“So we can keep them?” I’m in awe. Never in my wildest imagination did I think he would get me chickens! I only mentioned wanting them one time and he remembered!

“Yes. If, for some reason, there’s a problem, then we’ll re-house them somewhere else. Bryan said we could take them to his house if we had to.”

“Tyler . . . How did you do this?” I turn to face him.

He rubs the back of his neck. “I may have enlisted Sophie and Camille. They told me I needed a huge grand gesture, and well, go big or go home, right?”

“You bought us feathered babies.” I squeeze his arm.

“Correction. I bought you feathered babies.” He grins. He may state that these are mine all he wants, but they are ours, and I know he’ll come to love them.

“You’re a chicken daddy!”

He groans and shakes his head.

“I’m just stunned. How many are there?” I ask as we walk closer, and I squat down to look at them. There’s a light clucking coming from inside the house, and I’m so moved, I have to swallow hard to keep the tears from coming. This is the sound that he heard as the kitchen window is right next to them.

“Three.”

Three.

“Tyler, I love them. Thank you so much.” I glance up at him.

“And I love you. I really am sorry for everything last week.”

“If I get things like chickens after we have a disagreement, then maybe we should fight more often.” I bump my hip against his.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t ever want to feel like that again. Next time, we can skip the fight and go straight to the makeup. You name it, it’s yours.”

I grin and move to stand next to him.

“Speaking of names, can we name them?” I’m certain I look like a crazed idiot, but chickens!

“Like you did poor Dory? They’re your chickens, do what you want.”

“This is so exciting.” I bounce up and down on my toes. “Okay, that big golden one, let’s call her Henrietta. The copper-colored one, she looks like a Penny, and the brown one, her name is Nugget.”

Tyler throws his head back, and he laughs. It’s the best sound in the whole world. “Nugget. That’s terrible.”

“No, it’s not. It’s perfect. Just look at them.”

All three chickens have come out to see what the noise is, and they’re staring at us. Maybe they think they’re going to be fed, I don’t know. I’m going to have to learn all there is about taking care of chickens.

Coming to stand behind me, Tyler wraps his arms around me and nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck. “I think you’re perfect.”

Spinning, I throw my arms over his shoulders and kiss him. Warm full lips, strong hands pulling me in, and the most wonderful man to ever exist.

“Best surprise ever,” I whisper against his lips.

“Yeah, you are,” he whispers back to me.