Erin Writes Way Too Much

“Oh.” A pan clattered into the suds-filled sink, startling you from your pre-coffee trance. Bob scrambled to wipe up the splashed soap from the counter. “Sorry. I’m not used to anyone still behind here.”

You motioned to the sink. “I started the dishes.” You held up your mug. “Made coffee.”

He watched you with those wide, bright eyes of his, a small smile teasing his lips. “Thanks.” He poured himself a cup and hesitated next to the stool beside you. You nodded. He sat. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Bob. In fact, it was the opposite. You just didn’t know what to do about it. Sweet, complicated, wonderful Bob, who once offered to sew a tear in your ‘hero fit’, as Valentina called it. You asked if he knew how to sew and he said, “No, but I can learn.” 

“So,” Bob started, crunching on a spoonful of cereal. He liked the marshmallows. “Nothing going on today?”

“Unfortunately.” You caught yourself with a wince. Normal people didn’t hope for trouble. Heroes definitely didn’t. “I just mean it’s weird to have a day off.”

“Bit of an off day?” He asked. Bob nudged your shoulder gently with his. “I get it. It took me a while to get used to being here and just being, you know, me.”

A pang of guilt made your chest ache. You must seem so bitchy. So you had to day off? Boo-freakin-hoo. 

As if sensing your hesitation, he continued. “But I’ve figured out ways to make myself useful.” Bob’s smile turned sheepish. “Do you want to help me out today?” 

“Wait-” The realization took you longer than you wanted to admit. “You do all this?”

Bob shrugged, looking around at the clean and tidy penthouse. The floors were all vacuumed and the bookshelves dusted. Plants were watered. Hell, there was even a sourdough starter on the counter, kept fed and happy. It explained how he was able to make such good cinnamon rolls the other day. “Well, nobody else really seemed to have time, and I’ve got too much so…”

“Jesus, Bob, I always thought Valentina hired a cleaning crew or something.”

“Oh, she did.” He ducked his head, tucking a loose hair behind his ear. “But I didn’t like the way they folded the dish towels, so I told them they could just tell Valentina they were coming in so they wouldn’t lose the income.”

A teasing grin spread across your face and you crossed your arms. “You’re helping these people scam our boss?” 

Bob blushed. “Um… I guess?”

You rustled his hair, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I’m so proud.” 

Bob’s face turned even redder. He turned away so you wouldn't see the slight golden glow in his eyes, energy zapping from the spot where you kissed him. It was happening more and more around you lately.

“Come on,” he said, reaching for a small bucket of supplies from under the sink. “I think the balcony could use some polishing.”

You gave him a mock salute. “Lead the way, Captain.”

You didn’t go out to the balcony often thanks to your busy schedule and more-than-slight fear of heights.You could handle them during an assignment when you had something else to focus on, but now? All your thoughts migrated to that countless story drop.

“I’ll do these windows,” you gulped, quickly grabbing a rag to get started. Scrubbing off the dirt spots and finger prints- probably from Alexi- you just created more of a mess, smearing the liquid and gunk across the glass. “I can neutralize twelve targets in two minutes,” you grumbled. “I will not be beaten by window cleaner.” 

Behind you, Bob snickered softly.

“Here. Use this.” He handed you a tool with a padded side and a flat side. “It’ll help with the streaks. Plus it’s really satisfying.” His genuine enthusiasm at the task made your heart swell. With a second salute, you used the squeegee on the windows, leaving them sparkling in the morning sun. He was right. It was satisfying.

“So this is what you do when we’re all off doing what Valentine tells us to?” You asked.

Bob swept some debris from the tiled ground. “Not all the time. I read a lot.”

“No, I mean-” Turning to face him, you tried hard not to look at the vastness beyond, making you smaller and smaller by the second. “We’re out there, trying to take care of the world like we’re supposed to and all the while you’re here. Taking care of us.”  

Bob stood a little taller and gave you a small nod. “Well, yeah.”

You both left the topic at that, each feeling a little different. Warmer. Fuller. Bob continued to pick up any trash and wipe down the set of patio furniture, even if he was the one who used it the most. He liked to come out here to think. Sometimes, he would get flashes of memory- fuzzy, but real- of how it felt to fly. 

It wasn’t lost on him, though, how you avoided the railing, or even looking up at the sky. He’d always thought you were fearless. It was an odd comfort, knowing you were afraid of something too. Still, he couldn’t suppress the urge to make that go away. 

“I can finish out here,” he offered. “Not much left anyway.”

Now it was your turn to blush. He’d figured you out with your cowering. What would the others think? Holding your head up, you walked right to the railing, looking over the city with a sense of dread roiling in your stomach. And, no matter how many times you told yourself not to, you looked down. Your knuckles looked ready to tear through your skin from how tightly you held onto the railing. Your head spun. It grew harder to breathe.

Bob laid his hand on top of yours, easing the tension that had your whole body shaking. “It’s okay to be scared.”

“I’m not scared, I just-” You sucked in a breath. You couldn’t lie to him. “I’ve never been a fan of heights.”

He held your hand tighter, easing it away from the metal rail. “Don’t worry. I’d catch you.”

You laughed nervously. “I thought you didn’t fly anymore.”

Bob’s expression shifted, every buried feeling breaching the surface. “I could for you.”

Your breath hitched, heart hammering no longer from fear. 

Bob felt it too, the rush of everything overwhelming him all at once. How many times had he thought of this moment? How many times had you left with the team and he couldn't breathe until you were back again? He’d never had the chance to let himself think about what it meant, using little tasks to distract himself. 

“Y/N-”

You kissed him. You didn’t think-you couldn't, or else you’d never try. For a brief second, though, you panicked, every doubt crashing through your head at once. You’d miscalculated. He was going to reject you. Worse, you would lose him altogether. 

But then he kissed you back. His soft lips moved against yours in a gentle assuredness you could both feel. Bob let his hands fall to your waist, holding you closer. Even when you pulled back from each other, he kept his forehead rested against yours, taking in as much of you as possible. 

“I’ve been meaning to do that for a while,” he admitted. A slight, teasing smirk appeared at the corner of his lips. “You’ve been busy.” 

“I’ll tell Valentina to give me more days off.” You leaned into him, giving in to every magnetic pull that nagged at you from the day you met.

Standing there, with you in his arms and the sky surrounding, Bob felt like he was flying. 

-

The rest of your morning off involves pretending to focus on cleaning, stealing glances when the others were around, and long, slow kisses tucked up in his bed…And that was where you spent most of the afternoon. Between feather-light touches and whispers of promises, you simply took in each other’s presence. 

You curled his light brown hair around your finger as he read, the room full of a comfortable quiet. You had your own book waiting on his nightstand, but it was hard to take in the story when he was beside you, looking like that with his messy hair and slightly swollen lips-both courtesy of the last few hours and you. 

“Can I ask you something?” Bob whispered, like he debated speaking at all and ruining the moment. But he set his book aside, lying down to face you. 

Playfully, you pulled the covers up and over your heads to encase you both. “Is it a secret?”

“No.” Bob poked your side in retaliation and wrapped an arm behind your back. “You know, for being a super scary hot fighter woman, you are kind of a dork.”

You gasped. “What did you just call me?”

His face scrunched up, now worried he’d offended you. “A dork?”

“No, before that.” You grinned to show him you were teasing. 

Bob rolled his eyes and the two of you launched into another round of kissing. 

“What is this?” He asked, now more breathless than before. When you didn’t answer, he continued talking quickly. “I mean, if this is just because you were bored or-or because you didn’t want to be alone, I can understand that, but I have to tell you that I have been feeling this for a long time and-”

He cut off, feeling your lips over his rapidly beating heart. 

“Y/N, I’ve felt like this for-”

You kissed the hollow between his collarbone and neck. 

“Are you going to answer or…”

You kissed his jaw, finally pulling back to look into his eyes. They glowed gold. 

“It’s not because I’m bored or because I wanted company- though I wouldn't mind having yours more often.” You kissed his lips, taking time to let your words sink in. “I think I’ve loved you for a long time, Robert Reynolds.” 

Bob’s face fell, shock taking over his eyes. He swallowed hard. “You…” His voice caught and he lowered his gaze as if he could see through to your heart. “Y/N, I can’t remember the last time anyone has said that to me.” 

Just like that, you wanted to erase every bad thing that had ever happened to him. You knew a little about his parents, about why he’d turned to drugs, and his struggles with coming to terms with who he was now. You wanted to hurt everyone who’d hurt him. Weren’t you supposed to be the ‘New Avengers’? Why couldn't you avenge that scared little boy who grew into the incredible man in front of you. 

“I mean it. I love you.” You weren’t sure when you realized it, but the minute the words leave your lips, you know it's true. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to show it in the last few weeks.” 

In a blink, Bob’s irises glow and he is covering you with sloppy, sweet kisses. His excitement makes you giggle, trying to push him off just so you could see those eyes again. 

“I love you too.” He muttered, breathing heavily. “And I don’t think I really knew what that meant until you helped me after Valentina. You were the person who grounded me when I needed it most. I love you.” He kissed you faster, hands exploring every part of your party he could. 

“Bob,” you laughed, the sound ringing throughout the room, “honey, you need to remember to breathe.” 

“I don’t need to breathe. I have you.” He made his way back up to your lips. “You were right. We need to get you days off more often.”

“I’ll bring it up to the others, see what I can do.”

A knock at the door made you both jump. You half expected Bob to float right off of the bed. 

“Bob!” Yelena called through the door. “Alexi’s making dinner and I think he killed your bread creature thingy.” 

“He killed my sourdough?” Bob gasped, pouting.

“Alright, I think that’s our cue to rejoin the world,” you muttered. 

Yelena knocked again. “Y/N? What are you doing in there?”

“Uh, reading.” 

You scrambled to get dressed, Bob close behind you. Yelena was still outside the door, apparently not wanting to miss this. 

“One day,” she said. “I just want one day where nothing happens.” 

“I have no idea what you're talking about. Do you, Bob?” 

He shrugged. “Nope.”

You stood in front of the dressing room mirror, turning back and forth on your toes to get a view of the whole outfit. Well… outfit was a strong word for what you were wearing. But that was kind of the point. This, though, just wasn’t right. Not the right fit, not the right color- you weren’t sure. Taking it off, you were already starting to feel dejected. This was the third piece of lingerie you’d tried on, and none of them were right. You worried the problem was your body. Maybe you were the type meant to hide beneath baggy t-shirts and oversized sweaters. 

You’d give one more a try, but you dreaded your reflection more and more by the minute. One more. You wanted so badly to surprise him. He’d been away for what felt like forever. You wanted to do something special.

“This one will be the one,” you said to yourself, holding up the corseted one-piece. It was deep green and had a sweetheart neckline. You bit your lip. “I hope.”

-

Rocco was ready to go home. He’d been away for almost two weeks doing a stupid shipment job for one of Leftie’s old rivals. It should have only taken a week, but the guys down in Florida were being complicated, so he had to stay and sort all of it out, which he hated. He hated Florida. He hated the muggy heat and fucking alligators. Most of all, he hated being away from you. 

So with every passing sign and mile marker meaning he was getting closer and closer, Rocco could hardly sit still. The radio mostly played junk he could tune out, but when he was pulling into town, it turned to one of those cheesy old romance songs. Dean Martin or one of them. 

He could see the song as a painting in his head, all deep red swirls and passion. He even sang along a little. 

“Return to me, oh my dear I’m so lonely.” 

He felt like a giddy little kid going home for Christmas break, only he hoped you were what was wrapped up under the tree. 

Rocco was supposed to go straight to the boss to tell him how it went, but he just couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled into the lot of the apartment building where your shared home awaited him. He could still remember the day he asked you to move in. He always wanted to come home to you and now he could. He practically flew up the stairs, taking them two at a time to get to the right floor. 

He was so excited, he almost couldn't get the key in the lock. 

“Baby, I’m back!” He called out. But the living room was empty, so was the kitchen. “Baby?” 

You heard the door close and thought your heart would stop right there. Standing in front of the vanity, dressed in the emerald bodysuit, its silky fabric hugging you in all the ways it was supposed to. But hearing him come in, you felt a little ridiculous. Like you were playing dress up and the minute he saw you, he would laugh. 

“Y/N, you upstairs?” He wondered, taking the first step on the stairs to the loft room. 

“Uh, yeah, just give me a minute!” You shouted back, desperately looking for something you could throw on. 

A low chuckle rumbled through Rocco’s chest. “Oh, baby, I don’t think I can wait another minute.” He climbed up the rest of the stairs. 

With every footstep, your heart pounded more and your whole body flushed. Any ounce of confidence you’d felt in the store vanished like steam on a mirror. In a room covered with clothes you hadn’t gotten around to folding, you couldn’t find one piece that would cover the outrageous amount of skin you were showing. He was almost to the top and you had to bite your lip to keep it from trembling. 

“Damnit.” You scrambled to the closet. You couldn't tell what made you feel more stupid, the fact that you thought you could do this, or that you couldn’t hold back your tears because of it. “Idiot.” 

“Uh, babe?” Rocco peered around the bedroom. With his hands on his hips, he laughed. “Alright, I give up. Are you under the bed?”

“I’m in here,” you sighed, running your hands over the silky forest-green fabric. The closet door jiggled and another jolt of embarrassment and panic shot through you. “Don’t come in!” 

Rocco’s brows furrowed, that usual smirk of his tilted with confusion. “Sweetheart, I drove four hours straight here to see you. I’m not really in the mood for hide and seek.”

“No, it isn’t that, it’s-” Your mind raced, trying to find anything that would save the small sliver of pride you had left. “I’m sick. So, so sick. I don’t want you to catch it.” 

Rocco’s stomach dropped, any exhaustion from the drive replaced with instant concern. He doesn’t hesitate, turning the doorknob the rest of the way. “Baby, if you’re that sick, then maybe we should-”

You tried, and failed, to duck behind a rack of jeans, freezing instead under his stare. You swallowed hard, crossing your arms in front of your body. 

“Okay, so I’m not actually sick.” 

Rocco stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders blocking the light of the room behind. You could only imagine how you looked, each piece of your body that you were insecure about on full display, amplified by the tight fabric. 

“Before you say anything, I was going to return it, but then you got home early and-”

Rocco cut you off with a kiss that stole any words left on your tongue. His hand slipped around your back, pulling you closer and teasing through the lace clinging to your skin. 

“Don’t you dare take this back,” he murmured against your mouth, half-whimpering. The sound stirred something within you. 

“You don’t hate it?” You asked, eyes still on the brink of tears and arms still crossed over your chest, covering what little you could manage. You knew the lace showed everything, every curve you hated to see in the mirror. 

Rocco took a step back, gaze raking over you with an intensity you’d missed while he was away. It’s like he’s trying to see beneath the lingerie, beneath your body altogether, all the way down to your soul. His tongue darted across his bottom lip and he gently pried your arms away from your body. That little sound escaped again, something between a wordless plea and a sigh. 

“No, baby, I don’t hate it.” He stepped forward again, but instead of kissing your lips, he kissed your collarbone, trailing further down, and taking his time. 

You resisted the urge to cover up again. Wasn’t this the reaction you were hoping for when you bought the damn thing? “Rocco, I-”

“Shhhh. You’re thinking too much, sweetheart.” A hand traced up your cheek to draw circles at your temple. “Let me help with that.” Rocco kissed along the slopes of your breasts, barely contained by the lacy fabric. He sucked and swished his tongue over your skin, drawing out more little sounds from you. He teased you through the lingerie, fingers pinching your nipples just enough to make you crave more. When your decolletage was good and thoroughly marked by his mouth, Rocco pulled away, lips slightly swollen as he smiled at you. “Let me show you how beautiful you are. Please.” 

Your legs trembled beneath you, making it hard to stand. Rocco swept you up into his arms in a blink, crashing his lips into yours for a mind-numbing kiss. All of your doubts slipped away with the slip of his tongue over your lips. He walked the two of you to the large bed in the center of the room and laid you out before him. 

“I just need a second to look at you, baby.” Rocco stood at the edge of the bed, palming himself through his jeans because he just couldn’t help it. The sight of you in that gorgeous little number, it took everything in him not to rip it off of you piece by piece to get to your beautiful body. But he wanted to enjoy the view a little longer. More so, he wanted to show you how to enjoy it too. First, though, he wanted you blissed out enough to get all of those insecurities out of your head. 

Rocco fell to his knees in front of you like a man at an altar, tugging you by the ankles so that you were perfectly perched in front of him, the little flare of a skirt riding up to give him a better view. 

Keeping his eyes on you all the while, he closed the distance between him and your hot core, sealing his mouth over your aching clit. He knew exactly what you wanted in different moments and, something like this, called for tight swirls of his tongue deep into your pussy and harsh sucks on your clit. He knew how to make you cum fast and how to make it last long enough for you to ride it out, every inch of your body tattooed on his mind. 

Your head fell back, dizzy from the sudden intensity of sensations. He started quick and didn’t relent, lapping and sucking, teasing and tongue-fucking at a pace you couldn’t keep up with. Rocco drank you down without looking away from your body, taking in all of you as he brought you closer to the edge. 

You looked stunning, your hair haloing your face, your lips parted in a silent prayer, fingers desperate to grasp onto anything- the sheets, his hair, your tits. Rocco let the perfect image of you, already whimpering for him, fuel his final few flicks of the tongue to take you to the peak. 

The moan that escaped from your lips was downright heavenly to his ears and he dragged it out as long as he could before pulling you into his arms again. You trembled against him, already overstimulated by his mouth and now the fabric of his jeans pressing against your dripping pussy. 

“I’m going to show you how fucking gorgeous you are, baby.” Rocco placed you on your feet and turned you away from him, earning a whine. He kissed the sound away and you moaned again, tasting yourself on his lips. “Put your hands against the wall.” 

As you went to do as you were told, you realized he’d placed you right in front of the mirror. You looked at your flushed skin, mussed-up hair, and breasts, which peaked out of your lingerie even more than before. Rocco tugged the one piece down enough to free them entirely, the soft rounds bouncing with peaked nipples. He let his hands slip around to your front, pinching them and twisting them to get you mewling all over again. You turned your head to look at him, but he grabbed your chin, forcing your face forward. 

“Uh-huh, baby.” He bent you over, guiding your hands to rest on either side of the mirror. “I want you to watch.” 

At first, the nerves bubbled just to the surface again, worried you would ruin the moment with your insecurities. But when he entered you, his cock filling you so completely, you forgot everything but the two of you in that reflection. 

Rocco, like before, didn’t want to go slow. He needed you and more importantly, he needed you to see how much he needed you. The little number you were wearing was wrecking him in more ways than he could describe, maybe even more ways than he could paint. He held onto your hips and began his brutal pace, driving into you with desperate growls. 

“Fuck, Rocco,” you gasped. Keeping your eyes open, you did as you were told and watched. You watched his cock pull in and out of you, his skin slapping against your skin. You watched the muscles in his arms bulge, keeping you standing when all your knees wanted to do was buckle beneath you. You watched your tits bounce with every thrust, framed by the pretty lace of your lingerie. Maybe you didn’t regret your choice after all. 

“You are so perfect,” Rocco said, somehow rough and gentle at the same time. “You take me so well, baby. Taking this cock. And fuck, look at those tits. Look at them dance for me like that. Do you see what I see now, baby?”

You tried to nod, but could barely do anything but throw your head back in sheer, unyielding pleasure. 

Rocco took a fistful of your hair in his hand, tugging just enough to get your attention. “Tell me how fucking sexy you are, sweetheart, and I’ll make you cum all over my cock.” 

“I-” You tried to turn to him again, but he kept your head forward. You let the reflection wash over you, every curve and imperfection. And fuck he was right. “I’m fucking sexy. Fuck, please, Rocco.”

“Tell me how good you look with me fucking you senseless.”

“So good. I look so good.” You were close, so fucking close that it was a miracle you were forming words. 

“That’s right.” He leaned over to kiss your cheek. “You’re beautiful and I love you.” Rocco returned his hands to your hips, one of them making its way to your over-sensitive clit. “Now cum.” 

Your nails scraped against the bedroom wall and a quiet scream escaped your throat. 

Rocco felt you hug him tighter, gushing around him, letting him go faster and faster, chasing his own release. Despite your shaking legs, he kept you up, watching the gorgeous show in front of him in the mirror. Your eyes, glazed over with the fuck-drunk look he couldn’t get enough of, lips that seemed made to kiss him or wrap around his cock or say the smartest things he’d ever heard. 

He meant everything he said. 

You were stunning.

“Rocco,” you whined. You felt like every nerve in your body was burning just for him, overstimulation threatening to bring you to your knees. 

He thought about flipping you around, sliding his cock between your massive, captivating tits until he came on your chest. But he wanted to keep your eyes on that mirror for as long as he could. He had a point to prove. 

“One. More.” He punctuated his words with harsh thrusts, somehow deeper than before. “Just one more, fuck, please. You’re doing so good, my beautiful girl.” 

You tried to shake your head. You couldn’t do it. It was all too much. But on that one word, he caught you again. 

Beautiful.

In your final climax, Rocco pulled you up to his chest to keep you from collapsing, his heat spilling into you in waves. He held you like you were the world, and for that second, you felt like everything he said you were. 

Rocco kissed your neck, still buried within you. “I want to paint you just like this.” His playful sweetness returned with a smile in the mirror. “I’ll call it ‘Finer Things in Life’.” Rocco tugged on the strap of your one-piece. “Where did you get this anyway?”

You giggled, swatting his hand away. “Why?”

“This is my favorite part,” you whispered. As the sun sank lower and lower, the rides lit up in bright reds and blues, the ferris wheel becoming a beacon against the night sky. It flashed and spun as bright as a firework. You walked a little faster. “Come on. I’m starving.” 

“Alright, just slow down,” he laughed. “Not all of us have the energy of a five year old.” 

“You will after you have the sugary goodness that is fried dough shaped like a spiderweb, now hurry up before the lines get too long.” 

Luckily, there were only a couple of people ahead of you, so you didn’t have to wait too long to dig in. You couldn't remember the last time you’d had a funnel cake and, taking a bite of the twisted, spiraling dough, you felt another surge of nostalgia. 

“Ohmgod Kashee thish ish shooo good!” You gushed, your mouthful of sugar making it nearly impossible to understand. 

Kayce smiled and took a bite. A cloud of powdered sugar erupted, puffing up into his face and getting caught in his mustache. It coated the tip of his nose and his lips, and when he sighed, it blew outward like smoke from a dragon. A sugar dragon. 

You burst out laughing. 

“Very funny,” he said, licking the white powder off of his fingers and trying in vain to get it off his face. 

“You look like a drug sniffing dog that just found a shit ton of cocaine,” you snorted. Tearing off another piece, you let the sugar dissolve on your tongue. “What I wouldn’t give for a camera right now.” 

“Don’t even think about it,” he glowered. “I’m going to go clean this off.” 

As he stood up to go, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and planted a big, messy kiss on your cheek, smearing sugar all over. 

“Kayce!” You squealed. He hurried off, laughing and licking his lips. 

Finishing the rest of your half and cleaning your cheek with a napkin, you took a moment to just listen to everything around you. From the cheering children to a group of young girls taking pictures of each other, everyone just seemed… happy. It was a nice change to the darkness you often faced in your lives. 

You found yourself wandering toward the game booths to see everything on display. There was a ring toss, a beanbag toss, a ball toss. Honestly, a lot of tossin’. The last booth had one of those target shooting games with toy guns and big red bullseyes on the wall. Above the targets, there was a shelf full of stuffed animals of all shapes, sizes, and colors. On the counter sat the main prize- a teddy bear that was almost as big as you. 

“You lookin’ for someone to win that for ya, darlin’?” A man asked, sauntering over to you like a cowboy in a bad movie. 

You raised a brow. “Do you think you could? Those targets seem awfully far.” 

“Pfft, I reckon I could hit all of ‘em with my eyes closed.” The man with the very fake accent motioned to the teenager running the booth to give him one of the guns. 

You leaned against a post with an amused smirk, feeling an arm snake around your waist. 

“What’re you doin?” Kayce asked, chin resting on your shoulder. 

“Oh, this nice gentleman was going to win me that bear over there,” you said. 

The man turned, saw Kayce, and scowled, forgetting his accent in his frustration. “Hey man, I was here first.” 

You took Kayce’s hand and held it up so he could see the rings on your fingers. “Actually, he was.” 

The guy scowled and opened his mouth to say something he’d definitely regret. 

Your husband’s growl rumbled up your back and you sensed his eyes darken. “I really wouldn’t.” Kayce’s arms tightened around you, giving you a rush of warmth that enveloped your whole body. 

The sulking cowboy stomped off to find a new unsuspecting woman to flirt with and you shifted around in your husband’s hold to face him. 

“That wasn’t very nice,” you teased. 

Kayce just frowned. “He didn’t look very nice.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and twirled you back around. “Now, which one of these were you looking at?” His eyes scanned the long row of stuffed animals, landing on the massive teddy bear, holding a big fluffy red heart to its chest. “I’m gonna guess that one.” 

He flagged down the kid running the booth and bought a ticket. 

“Don’t you think this is a little, I don’t know,” you breathed out the word, “cheaty?”

“It isn’t cheating,” Kacye said. “It’s…” He stopped to think of the right phrase. “It’s using my skill set.” 

“I don’t think this is what the S.E.A.Ls had in mind when they trained you, honey.” You practically hung off of his free arm, hoping to throw him off as he took aim. “Kayce, really, you don’t need to-”

He fired. 

You sighed. “Too late.”

A total bullseye, not that you were surprised. All three shots he was given, he hit dead center. 

“And we have a winner,” the kid running the booth said with such disinterest, you were almost surprised he wasn’t hiding somewhere playing on his phone. The boy handed Kayce the giant bear, who handed it to you. 

You wrapped your arms around the large, poofy body, rolling your eyes. “My hero.” 

Kayce pushed the bear down so he could catch your lips in a kiss. 

You loved him most in these moments. When he was soft in a way only you got to see. When the two of you spotted a little girl playing by herself and agreed that she could use your new furry friend more than you could. The glow on his face when she squealed in excitement was enough to make you wish you could marry him all over again. 

“Well, now I need something else to cuddle up to,” you teased, wrapping your arms around his middle, practically hanging off of his muscular form. “I guess you’ll do.”

“I can live with this arrangement.” He leaned in for another kiss, but you were looking over his shoulder. 

“Wait!” You cried, pulling away and pulling on his hand, shooting both of you down the path between booths and families and discarded corndog sticks.

“What are you doin’?” He called behind you, voice lost in the rush and noise. 

“You’ll see!” The bright, turning light shone in your eyes, making you as giddy as a kid hyped up on too much cotton candy. 

Kayce looked up and found where you were taking him. His stomach did a turn. It wasn’t that he was afraid of heights. He’d stood on cliffsides his whole life, looking over hundred foot drops. But he wasn’t exactly a fan of the idea of being stuck in a metal bucket whirling through the air, either. 

“Come on,” you encouraged.

He didn’t have the heart to tell you no, even if his was going a mile-a-minute. 

You tugged him along through the line to get on the ride. The sun was all the way down, now, and the lights of the carnival lit up the night. The ferris wheel’s spokes flashed in a sequence of red, white, and blue, their reflection dazzling in your eyes. If it were up to him, Kayce would drag you back to the truck and drive out to a place populated by more stars than people. 

“Two, please.” You told the kid manning the booth. 

Kayce tried to ignore the skepticism writhing in his chest, which worsened upon seeing the operator’s half-drunk beer on the table, despite the fact he couldn't be more than eighteen. The boy waved the two of you in, muttering something about the safety bar being a little rusted. Kayce wasn’t sure if you heard or not, but either way, you climbed into the metal basket that swung with every step. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” He asked. 

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. “Is my big, tough cowboy scared of heights?”

“Heights, no.” He pointed at the operator. “That kid? A little.” 

Now, you couldn't hold back your snort of laughter, hooking your arm through his. “You break horses for a living and this is what gets you?”

“I don’t break them,” he smirks, choosing to look in your eyes rather than the shuttering lever the operator almost trips over. “I make them like me.” 

“Now why does that sound familiar?” You teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek just as the wheel jolted forward. 

Kayce gripped the safety bar like the reins of an angry bull, arm tightening around you so that you were flush against his side—something you certainly wouldn’t complain about. As the ride moved, lifting you backward into the air and stopping again for another group to get on, you hummed the tune of the carnival music playing below. Kayce focused on your voice rather than the racket of the machine lifting the two of you dozens of feet in the air. 

Once everyone was on and the wheel started a steadier speed, he calmed, taking off his hat so it wouldn’t fly off in the breeze, which blew pleasantly against your faces in the rush. The bright Montana stars shone overhead, complimented by the colors around you. In the distance, you could still see the silhouette of the mountains in the dark. 

The ferris wheel’s rhythm slowed in the final few rotations, eventually stopping and starting again as passengers got off. 

“This is always my favorite part,” you whispered, even though no one could hear you but your husband. 

The wheel stopped with you perfectly at the top. 

This part, Kayce was more than comfortable with. 

He wrapped both arms around you, pulling you close to him as he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was like fireworks and sweet bourbon and the smell of rain in the mountains all rolled into one. You smiled against his lips, tangling your fingers in his dirty-blonde hair. The moment was the perfect way to end the night—at least before you got home.

“Uh, you guys have to get off now.”

The two of you broke apart and you couldn’t help but snicker at Kayce’s reddening cheeks. You hadn’t even realized you’d started moving again. 

Situating his hat back on, Kayce took your hand, walking you back through the booths and rides toward the parking lot where his old truck waited to drive you to your four walls, locked door, and sheets ready to tangle around your body.