With tears in my eyes, I roll up on my toes and kiss him with as much passion and love as I have for him. Which is a lot.
“I love you, too. A whole lot.” He smiles broad after my blunt response, but I continue on. “You say you crave me. I know what you mean. I crave your love, your kisses below my ear, your good-morning phone call, your good-night phone call. I love that you cherish me, make me feel protected, hold my hand and pull me close. I love that you inhale me. I love that you make me laugh every day, help me to feel calm when I’m anxious, and that you listen to me and try to understand my level of crazy.” I give him a watery smile and he chuckles in response — not denying I actually have a level of crazy. “I wish you could feel what I feel. The butterflies you give me every day just by simply loving me, and I pray that I give you the same.”
We stare at each other for a long time, soaking up our words spoken to each other before Barrett reaches down and picks me up, bringing my face closer to his. I rest my hands over his shoulders as my legs dangle between us. His arms are bound under my butt, holding me securely to him. Our breathing is ragged and our eyes are moving over each other’s faces, memorizing every curve and angle.
Barrett takes a few steps backward until his back is against the cab of the pickup.
Our kiss is raw and intense. I come to realize in that moment that kissing is far more intimate than any other physical touch. A kiss is a way to speak without words. Our love is spoken through the kiss, even though our mouths have already breathed the words.
The tape comes to an end but we don’t stop our dance. I know without a doubt that I want his last name to become my own. I have known for a while that I love him. That I am in love with him. But in this moment, in the back of his pickup, in the middle of a field in the dead of summer with only the sound of crickets chirping, cicadas singing, and the fireflies flirting around our heads, do I realize my depth of love that I have for this guy. This boy who has been slowly becoming a man in front of my very eyes my entire life. I am going to watch him grow old. He is going to watch me grow old.
Before I know what is happening, we had come to a stop in front of a ski lodge. My trip down memory lane came to an end, but the feeling of the memory still lingers in my heart. Forever. Knowing we have plans to go to a cabin, I look over at Barrett in confusion.
“Just trust me. This is just a little pit stop, yeah? Before we seclude ourselves from the world.” He grins cheekily. It is one of his most endearing smiles and I love it. He doesn’t have boyish dimples, but his smile lights up his entire face, and his eyes shine with happiness. A happiness I haven’t seen in a while.
He puts the car in park, reaches into the back seat, and grabs our coats. “You’re gonna need your shoes on for this,” he says with a smile in his voice before he opens the door with the car still running. A young man comes out of the lodge entrance and catches the keys being tossed at him while Barrett rounds the front of the car. He opens my door, takes my hand in his, and looks down at my bare feet and frowns. I’m confused by what’s happening, but more than that, just a little in awe. He planned things, from the playlists on the way up to our stop along the way, he’s showing a side of him that I haven’t seen in a long time.
I didn’t realize that I missed dating my husband.
He reminded me that I did.
He reminded me that I loved falling in love with him the first time.
He leans down and grabs my black ballet flats and slides them onto my feet then picks up my purse from the floor. He takes my hand in his and gently pulls me out of the car. As soon as my feet hit the ground, he wraps his arm around me and shuffles me inside. The main lodge is absolutely breathtaking, everything I picture a ski lodge to look like. Oversized, dark brown leather furniture is paired with soft fabric pillows. A large chandelier hangs from the middle of the room made entirely of antlers, and large wooden beams stretching across the vaulted ceiling. What look like antique skis and ski poles hang on the walls and in the far corner there’s a large stone fireplace with wood crackling, giving off a cozy warmth.
Barrett guides us through the entrance and into another section of the lodge. He opens the door for me while I’m still rubber necking, not paying attention to where he’s leading me. Everywhere I look, it’s absolutely beautiful.
“Tess and Barrett Ryan, we have an appointment for a couple’s massage,” he says with all the confidence in the world. I don’t think Barrett has ever stepped foot into a spa, let alone a salon. He gets his hair cut at a small barbershop in town, so to say this is a bit of a stretch for Barrett’s comfort zone is putting it mildly, but to look at him now, he’s the picture of relaxed. His smile stretches widely across his face, his right hand on my lower back, rubbing small circles with his thumb.
Somewhere along the way, he handed off our coats and my purse, to whom I have no idea.
The woman at the front desk nods her head in agreement that we do, in fact, have an appointment.
“Have a seat right over there,” she says as she points to some leather seats along the wall. “Can I get you some tea or water?”
“Water sounds great. Thanks,” Barrett says then nudges my knee with his to break me out of my trance.
“Oh yeah, that sounds great for me, too. Thank you.”
She smiles in our direction before saying, “Absolutely. I’ll be right back with that.”
As soon as she’s out of earshot, my eyes dart to Barrett in surprise, my eyebrows, no doubt, touching my hairline. His eyes twinkle.
“Babe, this is the start of our week of us. I want you to relax and know that this will be a way to get a head start on that.”
“I can’t believe you did this. Thank you. You’re the bestest ever,” I say before I lean over and give him a soft lingering kiss to the cheek.
He chuckles and wraps me in his strong arms before releasing me back into my seat. “I love you, pretty girl.”
“I love you, too. A whole lot.”
His eyes flare, and I know he remembers the first time we voiced those words to each other.
“I can’t wait to have you alone for an entire week,” he growls into my ear, which causes a shiver to wrack my body.
Our masseuses interrupt our moment and announce that they’re ready for us. They each have a bottle of water in their hands, no doubt from front desk woman.
“I’m Kate,” a petite little thing tells us. She’s adorable. Her black hair is in a short pixy, cut with streaks of purple. She has tattoos down both her arms and up the left side of her neck, a small diamond pierced into the side of her right nostril, and she’s dressed in all black from her tank top and leggings to her shoes.
“I’m Georgie,” the other girl says. She, too, is dressed in all black but looks a bit more conservative, though she does have a streak of bright pink through her platinum blonde hair that’s pulled into a high ponytail. Her smile is infectious, and I notice that she has a piercing in the corner of her mouth.
We follow Kate and Georgie down the short hallway and into the room where I assume our couple’s massage will happen. The room is almost entirely white, with the beds and even the walls covered in creamy white, satiny sheets. The pin tucks in the center of the sheets that hang from the wall make them look like giant bowties, and sheets drape from the ceiling to create a canopy effect. Placed on the floor at the foot of the beds are large red pots filled with water. The white candles floating atop of the water are lit, giving off a romantic feel to the room.