Come to Me Softly

by A. L. Jackson

  It was what I saw. Not the two-dimensional image the machine had generated. But real. Full. Vibrant.

  I felt the intensity of his presence behind me. It stole what little air was left in the room, like he was wading through the pictures of my imagination, the man a permanent part of it because there was no place he could go that I would not think of him.

  He inched forward before he came to settle behind me. A heavy exhale pushed from his lungs as he flanked my legs with his. He pulled me close to him. Over my shoulder, he stared, his breath in my face and in my soul.

  His fingers fluttered along the picture of our child, his knuckles stamped with the year of his birth.

  Life.

  All I’d ever wanted was for him to experience it again.

  He swallowed hard, his face buried in the back of my hair, his voice full of the deepest reverence. “Thank you,” he murmured, the words hoarse, speaking of everything I wanted for our lives.

  FOURTEEN

  Aleena

  I scrubbed down the kitchen, cleaning the gorgeous granite, my movements slow and fluid as I rinsed off the rag and squeezed out the excess water. Satisfaction thrummed a steady beat within every inch of my being.

  I still couldn’t believe this house was mine.

  My ear tuned in on the other room where Jared worked. He fumbled around. A clatter of nails spilled to the floor. “Motherfucker,” he mumbled over the commotion he caused.

  I resisted a smile.

  These evenings were my favorite.

  I didn’t know what it was, but I loved when it was just Jared and me. Christopher stopped by about every day, and Megan had dropped in twice this week. They missed me. And I missed them too.

  Right now, though, I yearned for this time with Jared, to learn him and to let him learn me. Even though I knew him better than anyone in this world, and I knew his heart just as well as he knew mine, we were learning how to live together like a normal couple.

  But deep within my soul I knew Jared and I were not a normal couple. We’d never be. Too many scars were scored on his heart. There was too much history and too much hurt.

  My chest tightened and I fought for a breath.

  And I knew, without a doubt, that I loved him too much.

  It left us in this boundless bliss.

  Yet vulnerable.

  Volatile.

  “Goddamn it.” His voice rumbled from the family room.

  I tossed the dishtowel to the counter and crossed the kitchen. I leaned my shoulder up against the wall and watched him from behind. On the floor, he knelt on his knees in front of the fireplace. Shirtless. Even though it was nearing the end of December, the winter days mild and the nights cool, a slight sheen of sweat coated his skin from the exertion he put into the job in front of him.

  He ducked his blond head, dipping it low to carefully drag a pencil down the length of a piece of wood against a metal carpenter’s square.

  Shuffling around, he grabbed another piece of wood. He situated it next to the other on the clear piece of plastic he set out to protect the new carpet that now covered our family room floor. His jeans rode low on his hips. Strength bristled in his corded arms as he reached forward, his defined shoulders taut and straining as he moved. Muscle rippled down his back, a potent, slow dance of power beneath the horror of colors that swirled and bled across his skin.

  Desire throbbed low in my stomach.

  One thing I definitely knew was that body.

  And God, did he know mine.

  Jared took me places I didn’t know existed, brought me more pleasure than should be humanly possible. One look and I shook. One touch and I came undone.

  My gaze wandered in slow appreciation. He rose up on his knees and stretched out his long body to measure the height of the fireplace, verifying all his calculations were correct. Concentration edged his brow, his eyes drawn into a deep furrow as he studied his work, completely absorbed in it.

  Not a moment existed when I didn’t want him.

  The crazy thing was I’d be content to stand here all day long and watch him work. I loved seeing him in his element. In the place where he appeared entirely free.

  Here, his eyes never dimmed and his demeanor never shifted.

  He never froze for a blink of a moment as he was overcome by a memory.

  Never disappeared into the past where his spirit remained chained.

  Never shook it off and continued on like he hadn’t been slammed by an uprising of guilt, his body wrenched tight by a bolt of shame.

  Jared hid those moments well. Pretended they didn’t exist. He shoved them off faster than he thought I saw them.

  But I did.

  Because with Jared, I could never look away.

  But here? In the midst of a project he was building?

  Jared was lifted above what fought to keep him down.

  “I can feel you staring at me,” he muttered toward the floor, aligning two pieces of wood.

  Fighting a smile, I crossed my arms over my chest. “You can, huh? And do you have a problem with that?”

  From over his shoulder, Jared lifted his chin toward me with a cocky smirk. “Depends on what you’re thinking about.”

  That smile let go, and I cocked my head, my eyes making another pass down the length of his hard body. I fastened him with a smirk of my own. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

  Jared scowled, blue eyes narrowed. “Goddamn it, Aly, I’m never going to get this fireplace finished if you keep looking at me like that.”

  I pushed off the wall, dodging a toolbox as I wound my way over to the couch. “And how am I looking at you?” I asked, playing his game, because there was no doubt what I was thinking, no question Jared was trailing those thoughts like a hound. Sitting down, I tucked one leg up to my chest, sinking into the comfort of the plush cushions.

  Jared’s eyes stroked over me, resting a beat longer on the back of my bare thigh. I figured I’d better wear my little sleep shorts as much as I could, the ones that Jared somehow both seemed to love and despise, before I couldn’t fit in them anymore. They were getting snug.

  Still, I felt incredibly sexy under the intensity of Jared’s heady gaze.

  Beautiful.

  Because I knew that’s how he saw me.

  Blatant desire flashed in his blue eyes when they flew back up to mine. “You’re looking at me like you want me to drop this hammer, throw you over my shoulder, and carry you to our bedroom. Or maybe you’re just thinking you’d like me to take you right there on the couch.” He inclined his head like he was deep in thought. Like the man could dig right through mine. “Yes… yes… that’s exactly what you’re thinking.” His voice lowered, all indecent, making me squirm. “Definitely, the couch.”

  Heat flushed my body, from my ears to my toes.

  “Pretty sure you just described exactly how you’re looking at me,” I countered, feigning disinterest, the pretense dropping from my mouth like a rock.

  Throaty laughter rolled from him, and he shook his head.

  He knew it, too.

  As if I could really pretend he didn’t have this irrational hold on me.

  Jared rubbed his chin, something sweet taking over his expression. “Baby, believe me… whatever you’re thinking right now doesn’t come close to what I’m imagining doing to you. But I’m never going to get this fireplace finished if you keep distracting me.”

  “Distracting you?” It came as a flirty tease… because, yeah, that’s exactly what I was aiming for, teasing him a little, loving that we were free to engage in it, that we belonged to the other and none of this was a secret.

  Loved that we could play.

  And Jared had taken to teaching me all kinds of games.

  “You are in the room, aren’t you?” he drew out.

  I smiled, widened my eyes.

  Obviously.

  He bit out a smirk. “Then I’m distracted.”

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  He turned back to his
work. I caught the slant of his eyes as he stole another glance at me. “Uh… no… don’t move an inch. Just sit there like the siren you are. Consider yourself motivation. Because the second I get this template laid out, I’ll be taking my prize.”

  I blushed a little, fighting the girlish giggle that built somewhere in my belly.

  God, how did this man make me feel this way, sifting through me with the heaviest weight and make me feel lighter than air?

  “Hurry up, then,” I commanded, biting my lip.

  Of everything he’d redone in this house, this was what he’d been most excited about.

  The fireplace.

  He couldn’t stop talking about it, the plans he had to design it himself, to transform the plain fireplace into something of beauty. To etch and carve and create. Three days ago, he purchased the thick cylinders of wood he would use. Wood he would bisect, cutting it in half to make two columns. Those columns would flank both sides of the hearth, and a heavy mantel would cap off the top.

  And Jared would sculpt it all.

  Jared had drawn out blueprints, plans to carve out these elaborate designs, an intricate pattern of petals and leaves, the stems twisted and twined, a snarled bouquet that perfectly flowed. Apparently he’d done some different woodworking jobs back in Jersey, but nothing close to the scale he was planning now.

  No doubt, it would be stunning, accenting everything in this house perfectly.

  A basic bench jutted out from the bottom of the hearth to create a sitting area. He had plans to cover that portion with flat, smooth stones, like a garden of rocks that would give way to the floral vines that would climb the walls.

  Unadulterated pride had simmered all over his face when he first showed his idea to me.

  It was one of the last projects he had planned for the house. It was almost complete, this house that was a dream, gorgeous and reflecting the true man Jared was inside. It shined from the walls, bore down from the ceilings, and radiated from the floors.

  Since he had come back, I’d been struck by something I should have always known.

  Jared was an artist.

  I realized it when he first brought me here.

  How could I not have seen it before? The way he’d been as a boy, constantly dreaming… imagining what we could create, taking us on journeys in his mind and doing everything he could to make them real.

  Building.

  Constructing.

  Bringing the visions in his mind to life.

  And his words…

  God, the words that Jared wrote and the ones he whispered.

  He was beautiful, that beauty formed within and pouring out.

  A creator and a poet.

  Maybe I’d only attributed art to my pencils and paper.

  But Jared’s craft encompassed so much more than that. It infiltrated everything he did, weaving through his thoughts and flowing from his words, the creativity forged by his hand left behind in everything he touched.

  And all of it was stunning.

  Jared had convinced me to chase my own dreams, too. I wasn’t going back to nursing school this next semester. Instead, I’d enrolled at one of the art schools in town. I still wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted to do with it other than draw faces the way I saw them in my head, but I hoped these classes would help me hone my skills and point me in a direction where drawing would become my career.

  My phone vibrated on the end table, gave way to a shrill ring. I glanced at the screen.

  “Who’s that?” Jared asked offhandedly, settling back into his rhythm.

  “Christopher. Surprised?”

  “Uh, no. Asshole might as well move in.”

  “Well, I guess you kind of owe him,” I pointed out, laughing under my breath as I swiped my finger across the faceplate to accept the call. Jared probably wasn’t all that far from the truth.

  Christopher was a constant, a mainstay.

  I loved that he cared so much about me. Underneath all the brashness and banter was a man whom I’d come to deeply respect.

  He’d been there for me when no one else had.

  I’d never forget it.

  It didn’t mean I made things easy on him, because he sure didn’t make things easy on me.

  “Christopher… I was getting worried. I haven’t heard from you in two hours.” I winked at Jared, and he just shook his head in disbelief and crawled over the plans he rolled out. He traced his finger over them.

  “Oh, was just thinking about my favorite sister.”

  “Your only sister,” I corrected.

  “That’s what I said.”

  “You’re such a jerk… did you just call to remind me of that?” I asked absently, because it took me all of about half a second to get distracted watching Jared tuck a pencil behind his ear. Slowly, he dragged his tongue over his bottom lip, then he caught it between his teeth, his focus intent.

  Christopher laughed through the line, and I could almost see the smirk climb to his face, the mischief in the green of his vibrant eyes. “Nah… not this time. I was calling to find out what you guys have planned for Tuesday night.”

  New Year’s Eve.

  Right.

  I just wanted to stay here, on the couch, curled up with Jared.

  “Timothy’s having a party,” he stated.

  Shocking. Timothy was always having a party. Memories of this summer flooded me, the night Jared finally snapped and gave in to what had been chasing us for so long, the first time his mouth met mine.

  Fireworks.

  There was no other way to describe it.

  Jared paused his work, slanting his narrowed eyes up toward me. “Tell your brother I said not a chance.” He shook his head and situated another piece of wood.

  Pulling the phone a fraction away from my mouth, I frowned in question. “You don’t want to go?”

  Jared shook his head. “No… we’re not going.” A faint smile rimmed his mouth. Still, I could tell he was dead set, staunch, completely serious in his resistance.

  This wasn’t meant as a taunt to Christopher, not another rib to get back at his friend.

  That frown deepened as I looked down at Jared, who sat back on his haunches, all of the focus that had been on his work now directed at me.

  Christopher caught Jared’s words. “Tell that asshole best friend of mine he owes me. He already stole my sister from my house, I’m not about to let him rob me of New Year’s with you.”

  I held the phone out into the middle of the room for Jared to hear. “I don’t think he’s going to take no for an answer.” I laughed a little, listening to Christopher’s rant flooding the room, demanding we both be there.

  Jared crawled toward me and snatched the phone from my hand. He pressed it to his ear. “Dude, you should know by now you can’t sweet-talk me like one of those bitches you keep hidden away in your bed. Words aren’t going to work. I told you no yesterday. What do you think has changed between now and then?” Jared challenged, grinning over at me, trying to contain his laughter when Christopher went off on him, piling more unsound reasons on top of the ones he’d already given.

  Blue eyes remained locked on me as he listened. He shook his head. “Sorry, man, but no.” Jared eyed me, something mischievous and secretive playing all over his face.

  Butterflies took flight in my stomach.

  Or maybe it was the baby, I couldn’t tell. I’d just begun to feel it, this fluttering within me. The first time, it stole my breath, sucked all the air from the room, left me light-headed and reeling.

  Either way, I adored the feeling.

  “No, I wasn’t joking. We have plans,” he continued.

  We did?

  Those butterflies rioted, a rumble of nerves and excitement and an unknown thrill.

  Jared winked at me while he humored my brother, listening to him carry on about the great injustice our absence would cause.

  The question formed in my mind formed on my lips. “We do?” I mouthed.

  So maybe I cher
ished the thought too much. That idea that Jared thought of me above all else. That he wanted to surprise me and cause me joy.

  I looked around the house.

  The last surprise he’d given me had been just about the best of my life.