Hearts of Winter (Bleeding Angels MC Book 2)

by Stephens, Olivia

  When I step back I can see that her eyes look a little moist. I wonder if people have been underestimating Crystal her entire life, and I figure that must be a pretty hard way to live. I know that I was one of those people, but now I know differently. Now that I see her for what she really is, I wonder how I had been so blind to it before.

  “Now get out of here, you two, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Crystal says playfully, shooing us down the stairs and closing the door behind us abruptly.

  Jake and I are silent as we walk down the stairs and out towards his car. I go towards the passenger door, but he stops me in my tracks.

  “Hold on there, Miss Winters,” he says, running ahead of me and opening the door with a flourish.

  “Why thank you, Mr. Summers,” I reply in my best southern accent, settling myself in the seat and wondering how such a simple gesture can make you feel like a million bucks.

  Before Jake closes the door, he leans against it, staring at me. “You really do look amazing, Aimee,” he tells me. “Not that you don’t usually,” he hastens to add, worried that he’s said the wrong thing. “I just mean… wow.”

  “Thanks Jake,” I reply, more than pleased that he likes what he sees. The date had been his idea, after all, and I want to make sure that I didn’t disappoint. So far so good, I think to myself.

  He nods, closing the door and walking around to slide into the driver’s seat. “So, where are we going?” I ask, excited at the possible prospects for our first date.

  “Well, I was thinking about the whole dinner and a movie thing, and I thought: why sit through a movie not talking to each other?” he asks. “It’s something I’d never really thought of before when I was dating in high school.” I try to control that little worm of jealousy from burrowing through my body. “But I guess that’s because I’d never been with anyone that I liked talking to as much as I do with you,” he says simply. “I don’t want to waste any time we have together, looking anywhere but straight at you.”

  The little worm of jealousy pipes down at his words and I reach over to grab his hand that’s sitting on the stick shift. “That’s probably the nicest thing anyone has said to me,” I tell him, tracing a pattern on the soft skin on the back of his hand. “So, where are we going?” I ask, curious now as to what he has up his sleeve.

  “It’s a surprise,” he tells me.

  “Surprise?” I ask. “I know this is only our first date, but there’s something you should know about me, and it’s that I hate surprises.”

  “Oh, really?” Jake replies, a twinkle in his eye. “Well, I’m pretty sure you’re going to like this one.” He turns the engine over and starts to pull out onto the road.

  “You’re really not going to tell me, Summers?” I ask, trying to turn my “control freak” setting off and failing.

  “Nope.” He shakes his head, sounding serious, but I can see the smile playing along his lips. “I know it’s hard for you,” he says gently, “But just let go a little, just for tonight. For me?” He is appealing to the one thing that he knows I can’t say no to.

  “Alright,” I sigh, “for you.” Just let go, he said, and, as I look out of the window at the town of Painted Rock whizzing past us, I try to do just that.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  It’s only a few minutes until we get to our destination and, as we arrive, I recognize exactly where we are.

  “What are we doing here?” I ask uncertainly. Considering the ground rules of not talking about the Angels or anything linked to them, this seems a little odd.

  Jake has pulled up on the other side of the road to where my old house used to stand. Now there is just a broken pile of charred timber and a scattering of sad, blackened possessions that look like something out of a horror movie. Coming to this place makes me feel emotional—not because of the things that we lost, but because of the significance that the Angels did this to us. They try to destroy everything that they can’t control, and our home was just a casualty of war.

  “Why?” is all I can ask Jake as I focus on the charred remains of what used to be my life.

  “Because I don’t want the fire to be your only memory of the place,” he says eventually, and then jumps out of the car without any further explanation. He walks over to my side and opens my door again, gallantly.

  “Jake, I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” I tell him, feeling all the emotions come bubbling up from my chest and creating a knot in my throat.

  “Just trust me,” he insists, kissing me softly as I step out of the car. It’s amazing how a simple kiss can make me feel more secure. I nod reluctantly—I’ll give it a chance.. “Great,” he says, still sounding surprisingly confident. “Now, this is the part where I need your help.” Then disappears towards the boot of the Jeep.

  I hear him rummaging around and eventually he pulls out an enormous hamper and a folded blanket. He hands over the blanket and without another word he takes my hand and leads me towards the fields at the back of what used to be my house. These are the fields that Jake, Suzie, and I used to play in when we were kids. We would even camp out there some nights, pretending that we were on safari. I remember my dad would prowl around our tent imitating animal sounds and roaring like a lion to scare us. I smile at the memory—it’s something that I haven’t thought about in years.

  “That’s what I was hoping to see.” I look up to see Jake’s tender gaze trained on my face. “You’re so beautiful when you smile, Aimee. I wish you did it more often,” he says, squeezing the hand that he’s holding.

  We walk for a few minutes until we’re quite a way out in the field, and that’s when Jake comes to a halt and holds out his hand, wordlessly asking me to hand over the blanket. He spreads it out with a practiced flick of his wrists and motions for me to sit down.

  “Why do I feel like this is something you’ve done before?” I ask, fixing him with a direct stare.

  Jake has the decency to look a little embarrassed. “Yes, I have,” he admits, “But only with my mom.” I know I’m not imagining how red his face becomes.

  “With your mom?” I ask, too shocked to say anything else.

  “It was something we would do when dad was working late at the shop and Jonah wasn’t around yet. She’d pack up a hamper with some goodies from the store and we’d go out into the back garden and have a picnic. It was our time, just for the two of us,” he explains with a fondness in his tone as he opens the hamper and pulls out a mini cooler holding a few beers. “She would ask me about school, about what I wanted to do after school. About you,” he says, stealing a glance at me.

  “About me?” I ask, surprised. “What about me?”

  “I think mom knew how I felt before I even did,” Jake admits, opening two of the beers and handing me one before settling himself back on the blanket. “She would always ask these little leading questions. I didn’t think much of it at the time—it was only when I got a bit older that I realized what she was doing,” he admits, ruefully.

  “How come I never knew any of this?” I ask him.

  “I guess I was a little embarrassed. Not many thirteen-year-old boys like to advertise the fact that they have picnics with their mom in their back yard,” he points out, taking a swig of beer.

  “You know I never cared about that stuff,” I remind him. I’m silently cursing myself for having decided on a skirt for tonight’s date. How do you sit down on the ground without showing your date more than he bargained for?

  “I know.” Jake shrugs. “I guess I just didn’t want to look like a big dork,” he admits, laughing.

  “But Jake,” I say gently, “I’ve always known you’re a big dork!”

  “Thanks, Winters,” he replies, shaking his head. “I’m so glad I decided to confide my deepest darkest secret to you.” After a moment he looks at me and adds, “You don’t look very comfortable, why don’t you take your shoes off?” he asks, nodding at the high heels that are still firmly planted on my feet.

  “Hone
stly?” I ask, cringing at myself.

  “Yeah, what’s up?” he asks. “I know you hate them, but it’s not like I haven’t seen those claws you call feet before,” he notes, and ducks when I swipe at him.

  “That’s comforting, thanks,” I say, sticking my tongue out at him.

  “So…?” he asks, looking pointedly at my feet.

  “Fine, if you really must know, then I’m afraid that if I take them off I’m never going to get them back on,” I say, looking up at the night sky just so that I don’t have to look at Jake’s face, which I know is cracking into a smile right about now.

  “What? Are they glued onto your feet?” he asks, totally deadpan.

  “No, but they’re too small and I don’t think I’ll be able to cram my giant feet back into these little dainty shoes again if I take them off,” I tell him, giving him a fake scowl.

  I’m expecting Jake to laugh again, but he just looks confused. “But why are you wearing shoes that are too small for you?” he asks, scratching his head.

  “Because they’re so pretty and I didn’t have anything else that was date-appropriate,” I burst out, and then cover my face with my hands because I’m aware at how ridiculous I sound.

  “What’s the matter?” Jake asks, pulling my hands away from my face. “Why are you hiding?”

  “Because I’m being such a girly girl,” I say, feeling my embarrassment levels start to rise even further.

  “Aimee,” Jake sighs. “Take your shoes off before you do yourself some permanent damage.” When I don’t make any move to do as instructed, he shrugs and, quick as a flash, reaches over and pulls both heels off, releasing my poor feet from captivity.

  “Oh my God,” I say, stretching out my toes, embarrassment completely forgotten. “That feels so good,” I groan, flexing my feet and getting the blood pumping around them again.

  “If you keep making those sounds, this date is going to end pretty quickly,” Jake notes, and I see that he’s getting that lustful look in his eyes.

  I can’t help but giggle at his reaction. Giggle. I wonder if there has been a time that I’ve ever behaved more like a girly girl.

  “So what else is in the hamper?” I ask, nodding towards the basket.

  “Why? You hungry?” he asks, giving me a naughty smile.

  “A little.” I nod, opening my legs almost imperceptibly and licking my lips. I don’t know when I became so brazen, but all I know is that dressed like this and being here with Jake, I feel more confident and in control than I thought possible. Jake’s expression tells me he hasn’t missed the way I’m sitting and the signals I’m sending him. “Jake,” I say after a few seconds of him just staring. “The hamper?”

  “Hamper, right,” he breathes out, and I wonder if I’m imagining the bulge in his pants. “Let’s see,” he says as he regroups and focuses his mind on the task at hand. He starts pulling out various foodstuffs. “We’ve got… Vienna sausages, packed with nutrition,” he notes sarcastically as he pulls out the can. “Cheese and cucumber sandwiches on white bread, crusts cut off. Oreos, the cookies of champions… a couple of oranges… and last but not least, tabasco,” he ends with a flourish of chili sauce.

  I’m struck dumb by just how sweet and thoughtful Jake has been, and I feel a little like I might cry. How many people have been moved to tears by Vienna sausages, I wonder? “You’ve packed all my favorite foods,” I breathe out eventually, still not quite believing what I’m seeing.

  Jake just nods and looks at me nervously, like he’s wondering what my reaction is going to be.

  “How...?” I start and then have to try again. “How did you know?” I ask, looking between Jake and the food strewn out over the blanket.

  “How did I know?” he asks, like it’s a crazy question. “I know you, Aimee. I know that you used to sneak cans of these little guys—” He shakes the sausages at me, “—when you thought your mom wasn’t looking. I know that you would refuse to eat your cheese and cucumber sandwiches, despite it being your favorite filling, if the crusts weren’t cut off. I know that oranges are your favorite fruit because the smell reminds you of Christmas. I know that you’ve never been able to walk past a shelf of Oreos at the market without grabbing some and eating at least one before you’ve reached the cashier. And I know that you add tabasco to pretty much anything that you can put in your mouth,” he finishes, shrugging. “That’s why I wanted to bring you here. Because I know how important this place is to you, and I don’t want your memory of it to be like this.” He gestures at the charred remains behind us. “I want you to remember all the great times you and all of us had here. I just want to see you smile, Aimee,” he adds softly.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I sit in silence for a little while, processing everything as the love that I have for him grows and grows until it threatens to spill out. “I can’t believe you did all this,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Can't believe in a ‘wow Jake, you’re awesome’ way, or more like, ‘I can’t believe you’re so lame, Summers’ way?” he says, imitating my voice.

  I scoot over towards him until I’m kneeling in front of him, our faces only inches apart. “The first one. Definitely the first one,” I confirm, closing his mouth in a kiss and trying to transmit just how much I love him through the gesture.

  The kiss deepens, and Jake pulls me towards him. Then, in one smooth movement, he lays me down on the blanket and moves on top of me, without our lips parting even once. I squirm underneath him, feeling the heat between my legs start to overtake me. My hands are in Jake’s hair and he’s stroking my cheek as we kiss each other desperately, drowning in each other.

  We pause for breath, taking in deep gasps of air as green eyes meet brown. Sometimes I still can’t quite believe that this gorgeous, amazing, caring, beautiful man is mine and that I am his.

  “So, I’m new to this whole dating thing,” I say to him softly, dropping gently kisses on his lips as I say the words. “Is this too early to reach first base?” I ask, smiling up at him.

  “No, no, definitely not.” Jake shakes his head, looking serious. “In fact I would say that this is exactly the perfect moment to reach first base,” he confirms, dropping his head down to kiss a trail from my lips down my neck. He nuzzles my neck and his hot breath makes my whole body shiver with excitement.

  “And what about second base? I’ve never really been sure what that meant,” I say, enjoying having Jake “educate” me on dating protocol.

  “Well, second base is something like this,” he says, moving his hands towards my breasts and passing the back of his hand over my nipples so softly it’s like he’s barely touching me. But it’s enough to make my nipples stand to attention and for the rest of my body to feel like it’s humming. I catch his mouth in mine and suck his bottom lip, wondering how it’s possible for anyone to taste this good.

  “Oh, I see,” I nod, starting to breathe more heavily. “So, if I did this then I wouldn’t be wildly off track?” I ask innocently as I let my hand trail down Jake’s muscular chest, skimming the buttons of his shirt until I get to the waistband of his jeans. I pause for a moment, looking in Jake’s eyes and luxuriating in the heat that I’m seeing there. Then, I delve deeper, feeling his hardness through his jeans—a hardness which swells underneath my touch.

  Jake’s breathing picks up and I can tell that he’s trying to keep himself under control as he replies, “No, that would be right on the money, I would say.” He maneuvers himself slightly to give me better access to him.

  Jake reaches behind my head and goes to work on the knot that’s holding up my halter top, and I hear him breathing in frustration as it refuses to budge underneath his fingers.

  ‘Something I can help you with, oh dating guru?” I ask mischievously, enjoying seeing him squirm. “I thought you were supposed to be the guy that could unfasten a girl’s bra in record time?”

  Jake pauses and looks at me in shock. “How do you know about that?” he asks suspiciously.

&nbs
p; “We went to the same high school, remember?” I point out. “And it wasn’t like you were ever too concerned over keeping that little gem a secret.” I suppose I should feel jealous, knowing how many girls Jake has been with and how he’s acquired the expertise in bed that I’m enjoying so much. But the truth is that when we’re together, it’s just Jake and me. Everyone else, real or imaginary, more or less disappears.

  “Well, I wasn’t this nervous with other girls,” Jake mumbles, looking at me with a vulnerable expression that just kills me.

  “Nervous?” I ask, incredulous. “You’re nervous with me?” I’m not able to contain my surprise. “It’s not like this is the first time we’ve been… you know… intimate,” I mumble, wishing I’d used a different word.

  “I know; believe me, I know.” Jake uses his arm to support himself so that he can get a good look at me. “But I want to make every time perfect. I don’t want to mess it up,” he confides quietly, looking the least confident I think I’ve ever seen him.