by Liza Street
“Me, neither,” he said.
She laughed. “Then we’re doomed before we start. If we got together, we’d starve to death.”
“Nah,” he said. “I’d love to learn how to cook. I’ve just never been in one place long enough to try.”
He followed her into the kitchen, where they put together a couple of sandwiches and packed some containers of fruit and veggies. He looked in her fridge. “Should we pack a couple of beers, or no?”
She glanced over at him. “After last night, I’m not interested in drinking anything that isn’t water.”
He laughed. “Fair enough. Do you have water bottles?”
She pointed to a cupboard, so he found a couple of bottles and filled them up at the sink.
Suddenly, she was pressed against his back, her tanned arms wrapping around his middle as she hugged him from behind. “Thanks for doing this,” she murmured into his shoulder. “I was freaking out big time. I must have imagined everything, but it was just so real.”
“I don’t think you imagined it,” he said. “Could have been some weirdo trying to scare you. Do you have any ex-boyfriends who would want to do that? Or someone you met at work who might hold a grudge for some reason?”
“I can’t think of anyone. Really, it was either some weird animal, or I was hearing things.” She let go of him, and he turned around to face her.
“Let’s not dismiss it outright,” he said. “If there’s really something to this, we don’t want to find out the hard way.”
Her eyes widened. “Now you’re scaring me, Jackson.”
“Not trying to scare you. I just don’t want to dismiss possible danger.”
“Better safe than sorry, huh? I guess you’re right.” She pulled a small ice chest out of a cupboard and tucked in their food and water. “Well, I think we’re all packed up—let’s go.”
She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and grabbed the ice chest, her steps jaunty. She was capable, beautiful, and funny.
Jackson followed her out of the cottage, marveling at how lucky he was to have found this woman.
Chapter Twelve
Summer lay back on the large blanket she’d brought for them to set up their picnic. The sandwich, fruit, and veggies had hit the spot, and now she was relaxed. There wasn’t anything scary in the woods beyond their spot next to the lake, no funny noises, just the evening sounds of birds settling down for the night, and crickets and insects starting up their songs.
They’d talked about whatever topics popped into their heads. Summer wanted intel on the Licorice Fiddles. They were her favorite band, and she’d only seen them live once. Jackson talked about getting his job with them—how he’d contacted them online and offered to work for free to help with their online promo until they could pay him. Now that they were starting to tour the western states, they were paying him pretty well, and he’d even been to a couple of shows. He described what it was like working for them, and how they really were as nice in person as they seemed on stage. Then they’d talked about Summer’s work, and the satisfaction she got from a job well done, even when it wasn’t necessarily her passion.
“What do you want to do?” Jackson asked as he packed the leftovers back into her ice chest.
“Exactly what I’m doing,” Summer said. “I like my job, and I like the time it gives me when I come home. Then I can dabble in photography, scrapbook, read—whatever I feel like doing. I never feel like I have to bring work home with me.”
“That would be kind of hard,” Jackson said with a laugh.
“Exactly.” She grinned.
Jackson plopped down next to her. She curled onto her side, facing him, and pressed her nose against his shoulder. He smelled like a mixture of soap and the outdoors—clean man smell—and she inhaled quietly.
“Is this weird?” she asked.
He chuckled. “You smelling my armpit? Yeah, that’s a little weird.”
“What?” She pulled back and glared at him. “I was not smelling your armpit. I’m talking about us. I mean, I never wanted a boyfriend. I still don’t, in fact. But hanging out with you, talking, it’s one of the easiest things I’ve ever done. I’m relaxed, happy, and…I really want to kiss you.”
He turned onto his side. Now they both faced each other. Using the tip of his finger, he traced her chin, her cheeks, her eyebrows. He moved his finger down her nose to her lips, and ran the tip against them. “I really want to kiss you, too,” he said.
She stared at him, waiting. It felt like he was memorizing her face. Probably a good thing, if he was on his way out of town soon. Who knew when they’d see each other again?
Before he could move forward for the kiss, she said, “I hate to spoil the moment, but I just want to know what we’re both expecting from this. I don’t want you to feel bad about leaving Huntwood.”
He pulled her into his arms, and she felt a now-familiar looping feeling in her stomach—a pleased, glad feeling that she got whenever she and Jackson made contact.
“I’m here as long as you’ll let me stay.” He moved his head forward, and kissed her.
Last night had been incredible, the kiss, heavenly. Their first kiss had felt suffused with magic and a buzzing, alcoholic lightness that left her hungry for more.
But this kiss? This was that kiss only a thousand times stronger. Summer gripped his bicep, trying to pull him closer, and closer still. His mouth was firm yet soft, his lips moving against hers slowly and patiently but with extreme heat.
She was going to spontaneously combust, that was it. This man was dangerous because he could melt her clothes off with his lips.
She smiled to herself, that she’d found a superhero kind of guy with the weirdest super power ever. Clothes melting.
“What’s so funny?” he murmured against the corner of her smile.
“The thought of you melting my clothes off.”
He gave a soft, low laugh that ignited even more lust within her. “I really like the idea of your clothes coming off,” he said.
She clutched him, not sure if she wanted to pull him on top of her, or climb on top of him. Frozen by indecision, she kissed him harder, trying to suffuse the kiss with all the want and passion she felt.
He trailed a hand along her side, his fingers catching the edge of her shirt. “May I?” he breathed.
Oh hell yes, he could. “Please,” she panted. “Yes.”
He worked her shirt up her body, his fingers hot on her skin. They skirted the side of her ribcage and caressed the edge of her bra, just beneath her breasts. She wanted him everywhere. All at once. Jackson. She wanted to be a part of him, and never let go.
She wriggled and moved her arms, helping him remove her shirt. Before he could reach for her jeans next, she grabbed his shirt. Skin. She wanted his skin against her skin.
He kissed her, his tongue velvety soft on hers, and the sounds around them were sharp and clear as the stars twinkling in the sky. She closed her eyes so she could put more of her thoughts onto Jackson and really experience everything they were giving to each other.
He traced the waistband of her jeans, his touch searing her skin. Goosebumps formed on her legs, prickling.
“This okay?” he asked, rubbing his thumbnail over her zipper.
“Y-yeah,” she said.
He unbuttoned her jeans, then tugged the zipper down, but he didn’t take them off. Instead he moved his hand against her mound, over her panties, rubbing against her clit and pussy. She widened her legs, giving him more access, feeling wanton and not caring in the slightest. Whatever he was offering, she’d gladly take.
“Jackson,” she breathed. The feelings were growing unbearable, building within her to the point where she didn’t know if she could handle it anymore. The lace of her panties rubbed against her skin with every movement of his finger, causing tiny vibrations, making her moan.
“I’m going—oh Jackson, I’m going to come,” she said.
He brought his mouth down to hers, swallowing her c
ries as she tensed up, her whole body pulsing and frozen at the same time, the feelings moving outward into a bliss so exquisite it defied her thoughts.
He kept his hand against her, cupping her, allowing her to shudder and writhe against him until she was still. Then he gave her one more soft kiss.
Summer blinked up at him, feeling sated but unsure. “What about—what about you?” she asked.
He pressed his cock, hard through his jeans, against her hip. “I’m not worried about me,” he said. “Watching you come was about the hottest thing I ever saw in my life.”
“But…don’t you want to…” She trailed off, unsure how to finish the thought.
He kissed her. “We’ve got time.”
Summer grinned and kissed him back, then reached forward to grip his cock through his jeans. It felt obscenely hard and she smiled wider. “This feels like it might be giving you some trouble,” she said.
“Oh, it’s nothing I can’t handle on my own.”
Summer laughed. “But why do things on your own when you can have”—she squeezed harder and ran her hand up and down the length—”help?”
“Good point.” He groaned when she slid her hand up and down again. “Summer….”
She unfastened his pants, eager to finally see his package. She’d been thinking of only his fingers and his kisses when he made her come, but really, she bet he had a perfect cock.
After shoving down his jeans and boxers, she gaped. He did have a perfect cock. Tall and proud, twitching slightly in the cool evening air now that it was exposed. Faint veins lead up from base to tip.
Without thought, she bent forward and took the tip of it in her mouth.
“Oh,” he said. “Summer, you don’t have to—”
“I want to,” she said, pulling away to speak before thrusting her mouth over him again.
Giving head always made her feel powerful, like a queen. She swallowed as much of his length as she could, moving her tongue around him, sucking gently. From the corner of her eye, she saw him prop his head up on one folded arm. He watched her through half-lidded eyes, intent on her every movement. He felt so good, his skin soft in her mouth, and he tasted like man—a little salty, with the faint outdoorsy scent that she’d come to associate with him.
She wanted more than his fingers in her panties, and she wanted more than his cock in her mouth.
After pulling off of him, she asked, “Do you have a condom?”
“No,” he said, groaning. “I didn’t think—I wasn’t planning—”
She stood up. “Let’s go back to my place.”
Chapter Thirteen
There was no doubt in Jackson’s mind.
After the sandwich picnic by the lake, after talking with Summer about anything and everything, after watching her beautiful face contort into bliss while he made her come—he knew.
She was his mate.
And maybe he’d never been a good protector up until now, but it was time to start. He’d be the man she needed.
He hauled up the ice chest and speed-walked back to Summer’s car as fast as Summer could comfortably walk. She carried the blanket, her arms folded with it in front of her, a dreamy expression on her face.
Like Becca had said, Summer was a woman who was happy alone. But also like Becca had said, maybe Jackson could make her happier. It was his new life goal.
They drove back to her place, Summer driving, Jackson watching her from the passenger seat. She had a strong profile, a nose and mouth that were placed on her face in a way that made it look like she meant business, no matter what. He bet that anything she tackled, she’d succeed at just from sheer force of will.
He’d have to be careful about not being overly protective. Just the same, he was glad they were going back to her place together because he couldn’t have borne the thought of her staying alone after some creeper had been wandering around her yard. At least this way he’d be next to her tonight, and better able to watch over her.
He reached for her hand, and she allowed him to thread his fingers with hers. The contact kept something alive in him that he’d thought long-buried—hope for a home. Summer had brought it forth, the hope that he belonged somewhere. And all along, his home had been here, right where he’d started in Huntwood.
It was too soon for I-love-yous, especially from a human perspective, but his heart was practically bursting with the knowledge that he loved this woman more than life itself. He couldn’t keep it inside for another moment.
“I know it’s sudden,” he said, “but I’ve never experienced anything like what’s going on with us. But I’ve been a man without a home for four years, and if you’ll let me settle near you, that would make me the happiest I’ve been since I lost everything.”
Summer kept his hand in hers, but she looked unsure. “I—I don’t know what to say, Jackson. You’re right. This is very sudden.”
“You don’t have to say anything right now.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed his lips against her skin. She smiled at him, and he felt relieved. His profession of wanting to settle near her—it hadn’t scared her away. He’d take that as a good sign.
They pulled into her driveway and she cut the engine. “Home again, home again,” she sang.
“Jiggity jig,” he added.
“You know that nursery rhyme?”
“My mom had a book of them,” Jackson said. “She read them to me when I couldn’t sleep. There are some really crazy nursery rhymes, you know?”
“Yeah, I was really into them as a kid. My dad gave me this blank book, and we wrote a bunch down and I illustrated them.”
They climbed out of the car. “Do you still have that book?” Jackson asked. “Because that sounds like one of the cutest things I’ve ever heard of.”
“Oh, it’s somewhere—what the hell is that?” Summer pointed to her front porch.
Something tall and slender was waiting on the top step. Even with his strong night vision, it took Jackson a couple of moments to figure it out.
“It’s a statue,” he said, his voice low. He subtly sniffed the air, and the same acrid cologne from before filled his nostrils.
Summer marched forward, but he grabbed the back of her t-shirt.
“What?” she said.
“Hang on—can you please let me take a look?” There was no one else around, but what if this was some kind of trap? And worse—who on earth would target Summer? He didn’t know her well, but she didn’t seem like the kind of person to collect enemies.
Summer nodded, so he strode forward and looked at the statue from every angle. “It’s two people, kissing.”
“Rodin’s The Kiss?” she asked.
“I don’t know what that looks like, but the statue is familiar,” he said. “Except”—this was creepy—”except their eyes are crossed out.”
“I’m coming up,” Summer said, her voice firm. She squatted at his side and examined the statue. “Yeah, it’s a copy of the famous Rodin sculpture. What is that smell?”
“Seems like whoever left it here coated it in cologne.” Did he tell her, now, that it was the same cologne he’d smelled when he checked out the perimeter of her house?
“Let’s get inside,” she said. “I’ll get the ice chest tomorrow. I just don’t want to be out here.”
He hovered close to her as they walked up the porch and she unlocked the door.
“Some space, please, Jackson?” she said.
“Of course.” He took a step back.
Once they were inside, he sniffed carefully. There was no hint of the cologne in the house, and he could only assume that the guy who’d left the sculpture had stopped at her porch and not found a way in. But he needed to be sure. “Bedroom?” he asked. “Bathroom, kitchen, living room. Are there any other rooms?”
“Just a tiny attic. Otherwise, we’re in five hundred fifty square feet of cottage.”
“Okay.” He took a quick look in all the rooms, even sliding the shower curtain back, and opening Summer�
�s closet door. He poked his head into the attic access above her closet. “There’s no one here,” he said.
He returned to Summer’s side in the living room, but immediately began moving again. He couldn’t stop visiting each of the windows to look outside.
She gave a nervous laugh. “I didn’t think there would be anyone inside. I’m going to call the police, and call it a night.”
He stopped his nervous pacing. “Okay. I don’t suppose you’ll let me—”
“No.” She held her hands up, gripped the hair at her temples. “I’m safe inside with everything locked up. I just really want to be alone right now to process this.”
“I don’t feel good about that,” he argued.
“Yeah, but, this is my place, and I’m freaked out, and I only want to report the weird thing to the police and call Becca to check in and then go to sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
He wanted to argue, but her face and posture looked completely resolute. She wanted him gone, and she wanted him to go now.
Sighing, he nodded. “Okay. Call me if you need anything. Slightest twinge of fear? Call, and I’ll be here in minutes.”
“Thanks,” she said, coming forward to give him a brief hug.
This was not the night he’d been envisioning since their picnic, but he’d take any excuse to touch her. A hug goodnight, and the thought that he’d be not too far away, quietly watching the outside of her house for trespassers, would have to be enough.
Chapter Fourteen
Summer hadn’t actually thought Jackson would leave. And now that he was gone, she was re-thinking her decision to send him away.
While he’d been here, she’d felt safe. Loved, if she could use such a strong word about a relationship that was so early in its development. He cared about her, and he’d make sure she was okay. She believed that on a gut level.
She called the police station, explaining to the receptionist that she needed to report some strange, threatening behavior and no, this wasn’t an emergency. Twenty minutes later, she’d explained the situation to one of Huntwood’s officers, with the promise to come in as soon as possible and make a formal report.