Preacher, me, a bed and six years in between, things were pent up.

My hands collided with his.

I was interrupted in unbuttoning his jeans when he pulled my shorts over my hips.

I was barely able to scrape the edges of my teeth along his nipple before it wasn’t in target range anymore because he was dragging my panties down my legs.

And then we were both naked and I had a mind to get my mouth close to something else when I was crying out because I was going up.

He was on his knees in the bed.

And he was holding me to him, front to front.

“Legs around me, cher,” he rumbled.

I did not quibble.

I wrapped my legs around his hips.

He had one arm around me, one hand between us which meant when he bore me down, he was positioned to take me.

And when he filled me, I let out a breath it felt like I’d been holding for six years and my forehead dropped to his.

He wrapped his other arm around me, his hips started moving, and I held on with my limbs as I gazed into his eyes.

“Get your hand between us,” he murmured.

“No, honey, I want—”

“Baby, this is gonna go fast. There’s been no one but you. Get your hand between us.”

[Off tape]

There was…?

Nope. (McCade)

[Lyla is silent, but her silence shares she did not also abstain.]

I let her have that too. (McCade)

[Lyla turns to her husband and rests her hand against the salt and pepper beard on his cheek.]

[Whispers] Preacher.

[McCade to interviewer] I didn’t like it, and I imagine you can sense that’s an understatement. But if it happened while she was figuring herself out, she needed that too.

This is maybe the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.

[McCade grunts. Lyla lets her hand drift away from his face and looks to me]

Me too.

I didn’t know he was coming back, you see.

Let’s move on. (McCade)

Okay, honey. (Lyla [quietly])

Preacher was right.

It went fast.

For him and for me.

Too fast.

I hadn’t even recovered when I wanted it back.

Yes.

I wanted it back.

And then I wanted it to go on forever.

God.

It was so stupid, coming here.

I slid my cheek down his in order to tuck my face in his neck.

He fell forward which meant I was on my back and he was on me.

“Lyla,” he whispered in my ear.

“This doesn’t change anything,” I announced.

For a beat, he was still.

Then everything felt good when his body started shaking with laughter.

He lifted his head, framed mine with his hands and looked down at me.

“Baby, you didn’t drive seven hours to hand me a CD,” he pointed out.

“I felt the drama of the gesture would make my point,” I returned.