Jesse's Girl (Bishop Family Book 2)

by Brooke St. James

  Jesse used his other hand to block the sun from my eyes and I smiled at him for helping me see him more clearly. "Stuck for good," he added, grinning.

  "Stuck like glue."

  "I wish that part would start right now," he said. "I wish you'd glue yourself to me right now."

  "I'm right here," I said, nudging my leg toward him to show that I was already close enough to touch him.

  He shook his head and pulled me closer—so close that I was leaning on his chest. My whole upper body was resting on his, and I asked him about three times if I was too heavy, but he assured me I wasn't and kept repositioning me so that I was resting right on him and putting a lot of my weight on his chest. He balled up his shirt and stuffed it under his head, using it as a pillow.

  "I'm glad we got wet," I said, feeling thankful for the whole beautiful, soaked scene with his wet hair resting on a wet T-shirt and me staring down at him.

  "Sorry about the sticks and leaves," he said.

  "Please don't be sorry for a single second of this morning. I love the sticks. I wish I would've kept one for my collection."

  "Do you have a stick collection?"

  "No, but it could've been my first."

  "I can pull you in the water again if you want. We can get another one stuck in your sandal."

  I shook my head casually. "No thanks. I loved that you did it, but once was good. I like my current situation, anyway."

  I glanced down at the fact that I was resting against Jesse's body, and the next thing I knew, I was overcome by the uncontrollable urge to kiss him. First, I was looking at his chest and then I shifted to stare at his face. I knew by the way he looked at me that if I kissed him he would most assuredly kiss me back.

  "Jesse, guess what," I whispered.

  "What?"

  "I love you. I love you, and I'm glad I'm stuck with you. I want us to be stuck with each other. It's a relief to be stuck with you."

  He held me securely to his chest. "I know. It is, isn't it?" he said. "I agree. Let's be stuck together forever. Starting now."

  "Like this?" I asked. I glanced at our chests.

  He nodded even though we both knew it was impossible to hold that pose forever.

  I smiled and leaned in to kiss him.

  I stopped when my mouth was right next to his and stayed there, unmoving for a few seconds.

  "Why are you not kissing me right now?" he asked.

  Our mouths were so close that I could feel his breath on my lips. I readjusted so I could get even closer to him, but I didn't let my mouth touch his. I wanted him to be the one to reach forward and close the gap, but he didn't. He waited for me to do it.

  Finally, and with breathless anticipation, I let my mouth fall onto his. It was different being in control—his lips seemed softer and more relaxed. I tasted his mouth and kissed him gently several times before pulling back to stare at him.

  "Whatchu stoppin' for?" he asked.

  I leaned forward and kissed him again when he said it, and he nodded, which made me kiss him again.

  He kept his head resting on the T-shirt so that I had to go to him.

  I kissed him over and over, gentle kisses on his mouth and then on his cheek and jaw.

  "I love you," I said into his ear.

  I pulled back to regard him after what must have been five minutes of carefully administered kisses, and Jesse stared at me.

  "Rose I will never love anyone else. I truly believe that God just made you for me and gave you to me. I know we lived our own lives for a little while, but I think we came together just when we were ready."

  I ran my fingers through his hair, knowing in my heart that I would be doing things like that with this man for the rest of my life.

  "Do you want to be together forever?" I asked.

  "Yep."

  "Yep," I said. "Because we're stuck."

  "Like glue," he said.

  "Oh no!" I said, feeling genuinely upset.

  "What?"

  "I wanted to frame it, too!" I said with utter disappointment as I fished the soaking wet photograph out of my pocket. "I wanted to hang it up at our fiftieth wedding anniversary."

  "Oh no, I'm so sorry," Jesse said, when he realized. "Here, set it right here and we'll let it dry."

  He stretched out and positioned the wet photograph on it a dry spot on the dock, putting the very edge of his sandal on it so that it wouldn't fly away.

  "Mom might have another one," he said. "But we could show them the water logged one at our fiftieth anniversary and tell them this whole story. That'll be good, too."

  I looked at the photo and then at Jesse. "Wouldn't it be amazing if we had this same picture when we're old?"

  "Yep, it would," he said sweetly.

  I leaned over so I could stare down at it. "Look how cute we were."

  "You were," he said. "I was probably thinking about putting a frog down your shirt."

  "No, you weren't. I can tell you loved me—even back then. Look how sweet."

  "You're right," he said, "I really did. I've always known I was at home with you."

  "I'm so happy," I said, since it was the truth.

  He smiled. "How happy?"

  "Seventeen-thousand miles happy," I said, stating a random amount to demonstrate how ultimately content I was.

  He shook his head at me, looking entertained. "Don't tell me in miles," he said.

  "How should I tell you, then?"

  "Lips."

  "Lips?" I asked, trying to imagine how you would measure anything in lips.

  Jesse smiled at my look of confusion. "Lips," he repeated. He pointed at his own mouth. "Just put yours right here."

  Chapter 20

  Jesse and I got married four months later.

  We wanted to have it in Memphis, but both of us liked the idea of doing it on a dock like the one at the lake house, so we tried to get the best of both worlds. We held it at a friend's house that had a pond with a dock and some beautiful property on the outskirts of Memphis.

  It was truly a fairytale event.

  Everyone went out of their way to make us feel like we had been born to be together—chosen to find one another.

  Nana had another copy of that picture of Jesse and me, and as a wedding gift, she had an artist make a painting of it. Our family didn't just accept our decision to get married, they acted as if it was an event they had been anticipating—even Jane fell in love with the fact that we ended up together.

  It was a perfect fall afternoon, and we had about a hundred people present at the wedding. Pa officiated the ceremony, and he told the story of his dream. He also spoke about finding my father on his doorstep in a broken-down, old Easter basket and how amazing it was that God could weave such a complicated, beautiful story to bring us together.

  We had the ceremony by the pond, and the dinner and reception were held in and around the house. It was catered, and there was music, and some people stayed inside while others went out on the patio area. I was overwhelmed by the love and support, and I felt like I was walking on air until the moment when everything came crashing down. This happened in the form of Barrett, who crashed the party in devastating fashion.

  One moment, we were having fun and talking to guests, and the next, one very wasted Barrett came into the house with two other guys.

  I didn't recognize the guys he had with him, which was odd seeing as how Barrett and I had been together for over a year, and I knew all of his friends.

  Barrett came in making a speech while the two others went directly to the table and started eating straight from it without bothering to get a plate. There was palpable tension in the room, and all of the men present stood on edge like they were ready to tackle the intruders if necessary.

  Jesse was standing right next to me when Barrett started causing a scene, and I reached out and held onto his arm. He strained against my grasp, but I knew he could easily get away if he wanted.

  Jesse was six feet tall with broad shoulders, but Barrett was
a giant—absolutely huge. I could see the scary, empty carelessness in his eyes as he crossed the room staring straight at Jesse and me. Barrett was saying something sarcastic about not being invited to the wedding, but I couldn’t really hear him because I was so dazed and out-of-it.

  "Wait here," Jesse said, patting my hand.

  I pulled him back to me. "What are you going to do?" I asked.

  "Hit him," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  I stared at the side of my husband's face even as Barrett continued to come toward us, still talking.

  "Don't get hurt," I pleaded.

  Jesse gave me a quick, reassuring smile before turning and taking a few steps toward Barrett.

  They had an exchange—a heated exchange with four or five back-and-fourths, and the next thing I knew, Barrett jumped straight onto Jesse. I had been so utterly shocked that it wasn't until after Barrett made the move that I realized Jesse had invited him to do it.

  What ensued was a huge fistfight.

  I rushed toward them, yelling at them to stop, but my dad caught me by the arms. I strained against him, but somewhere deep inside I was glad he was holding me back. Jesse and Barrett had an extremely violent interaction with wrestling and swinging of fists, and I had no idea what I would do even if Dad let me go.

  Barrett had been giving me trouble in different, more discreet ways, since we broke up, so I knew in my heart that Jesse was happy to have an excuse to hit him. They rolled and exchanged blows, and I secretly felt gratified in watching Jesse defend my honor—especially since I could tell that he had the upper hand.

  Jesse got to his feet, but Barrett grabbed his ankle, trying to trip him and pull him back down. He held on for several shakes until Jesse got fed up and kicked, jabbing his foot into Barrett's side. Barrett let out a yell and released his grip enough for Jesse to regain his footing.

  Barrett's friends tried to come to his defense by jumping Jesse, but other wedding guests restrained them. Barrett was a huge man and an athlete, but Jesse had the upper hand during the whole fight, so no one had tried to jump in and break it up. Jesse took a step back, daring Barrett to do any thing else, but Barrett hung his head as if he knew he'd been defeated.

  I couldn't even believe what I had just seen.

  A fight. There was a bloody fistfight at my own wedding—one that resulted in a table being turned over and a huge mess.

  For five or ten minutes there, a real sense of panic and urgency took over the room, but just like that, it was over. My dad called his friend who was a state trooper. He came out with his lights on to reprimand Barrett and his cohorts for trespassing and destruction of property. We didn’t press charges, and the whole thing was a bit of an act since the officer just came out with his lights on as a favor.

  I wished it hadn't happened at all, but the only saving grace was that Jesse won the fight. He was hurt and bleeding, but he clearly won the fight.

  Our reception was already wrapping up when the interruption happened, so by the time we all recovered enough to laugh about everything, it was over.

  Jesse and I left the wedding site before everyone else, and they threw rice, at us before we drove off on a motorcycle with tin cans attached to it. We drove to our hotel room in downtown Memphis, which had already been set up and was waiting for us.

  We stayed the night in a suite at The Peabody in downtown Memphis, and I felt like the queen of the world as I sat in the middle of the king size bed, staring at the human being I loved more than anything.

  I had on white cotton pajamas. They were casual but feminine with a little lace trim. My roommate had gotten them for me, and I was glad she had because they were comfortable and cute for a bride on her wedding night.

  Jesse still had on his suit from the wedding—all but the jacket and tie. He stood at the foot of the bed, slowly taking off his vest and then his thin dress shirt. He smiled at me as he dropped them on the floor. And, in the same way I did when we were out on the dock, I hid behind my own fists in sheer anticipation.

  Jesse had on a tank top undershirt that was so tight and barely there I could easily see the rows of muscles underneath. He got on his knees on the end of the bed, and then slowly began to crawl toward me. His green eyes glowed, reminding me of some predatory animal. I had been so entranced by his eyes that it took me a second to catch sight of the cut—a little gash right at the top of his eyebrow, close to his temple. I followed his jawline to see some scrapes on his jaw. There was also the start of some bruising. I stared at the side of his face as he got closer and closer, finally hovering very near.

  I reached out and ran my finger near the cut on his eyebrow. "Baby, you got cut," I said. "Are you sure you don't need stitches on this?"

  Jesse cut his eyes to the side like he was trying to see the abrasion even though he couldn't.

  Calling Jesse baby and having him act like that was normal gave me a thrill, which only intensified as he sat right next to me on the bed, pulling me into his lap. I settled in Jesse's arms, taking his face in my hands, and turning it so that I could look at his cut again.

  "Is it still bleeding?" he asked. "I thought I cleaned it up."

  "It's not bleeding, but it's open. Your dad looked at it, didn't he? What did he say about it needing stitches? It seems deep."

  Jesse turned his head a little so I'd stop fretting over it. "Rose, you know I wouldn't trade this cut for anything, right?"

  "Yeah, but I seriously might still want to see if they have some tape, Jesse. I think we could at least tape it closed."

  "Rose," Jesse said, getting my attention again.

  I made eye contact with him, and his mouth lifted in a slow grin. "That fight was honestly the best wedding present I could have asked for," he said, shaking his head. "Honestly, he's been running his mouth for so long that I've been praying for him to come pick a fight with me. I've actually been hitting bags and praying fervently for God to let him do something like that."

  He was mostly teasing me, but he kept a straight face, which made me smile. I just held his handsome face. "I can't believe you defended my honor right there in front of everyone," I said, egging him on.

  "It's unbelievable," Jesse said. "And then he went on and tried to pull me down again after I was letting him up, so I got to kick him again. It was the stuff dreams are made of."

  I cracked up at that. "I'm glad you have a good outlook about it," I said. "I thought the wedding ceremony was the stuff dreams were made of, but I was thinking it went downhill during that part."

  "Went downhill?" Jesse asked, pulling back, and looking at me with a completely serious expression. "Baby, didn't you see me out there? Right hook to the body, right hook to the face…"

  I leaned back, stretching toward the bedside table where I picked up the telephone. I had to stretch with both hands to reach the receiver and press the button, and Jesse held me steady so I didn't fall off the bed.

  "Who are you calling?" he asked.

  "Downstairs," I explained with a whisper as the phone rang.

  I was still laid out to the side, stretching toward the phone, and he smiled down at me with an amused smirk, waiting to hear what would say.

  "Hello, this is Mrs. Bish—"

  I had to clear my throat.

  I wanted to just come out and say the name like was no big deal, but the word lodged in my throat. I felt like I wanted to cry when I said it.

  "Mrs. Bishop," I finally squeaked out, squinting at Jesse and daring him to laugh at me. "Is there anyway I could get some medical tape? Or at least a bandage?" I glanced at Jesse. "My husband's got a cut. He had it before we checked in. I'd like to tape it together. Is there any way we can get a first aid kit up here?"

  "Yes, ma'am. Someone will be right up to your room with that."

  Five minutes later, someone brought a state-of-the-art first aid kit complete with things we would never need, like a hypothermia blanket and a snakebite kit.

  I had two little brothers, so I had seen my dad make a butt
erfly bandage out of tape. I took my time prepping the tape and applying it to Jesse's cut so that my tiny bandage would hold the skin together perfectly.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, and I stood between his legs. Jesse's arms were around me, holding me securely to him as I administered the bandage. He was looking to the side so that I could get a good view of the cut. I studied my own handiwork, thinking it would heal up nicely as long as we kept it taped like this.

  I turned his face with my hands, forcing him to look right at me. I could see little piece of tape covering his cut, and it made him look tough. I smiled at him, letting my fingertips gently explore his cheeks. Because of the way he was sitting and I was standing, Jesse's head was positioned lower than mine. I leaned down and kissed him.

  "That cut looks tough on you," I whispered close to his mouth.

  He squeezed me.

  "Have I been a good nurse, Mr. Bishop?" I whispered. "Because we here at The Peabody hotel always strive for excellence."

  Jesse stared at me, unblinking for a few long seconds before he said, "This is the best day I've ever had."

  Epilogue

  Based on the calculations we did for increase in sales at Bishop Motorcycles and the number Uncle Michael had promised me in our initial meeting, I made over twenty-thousand-dollars on that project.

  I, of course, was thankful for the experience and didn't want to take it, but Michael put that plus more toward the building of our house. My next project was a local barbeque establishment, and it went well, so we put that toward the house also.

  We weren't in a hurry, so it took us nearly a year to build the house. Jesse did the contracting and we were very much a part of the project. In spite of Jesse being heir to an extremely successful company, he was a simple guy and he did a lot of the work himself or worked directly with the people he hired.

  We put a lot of custom touches throughout, and by the time we moved in, it was really something we could be proud of. We built it with three bedrooms, which seemed like a ton of room, considering that we had been living in an apartment for the first year of our marriage. I had a case of nesting syndrome as we finished, though, and we worked more quickly toward the end.