by Kristi Lea
Or bodies.
Jessica shivered. She clutched her arms to her stomach. She tried closing her eyes, but behind her lids were images of Noah, a gun to his head. Tallie's crazed expression. The feel of sparks from the burning yacht singing her skin, floating down to the water's surface like fireflies. The shivers grew until they were full body shudders.
“Hey.” Noah's voice was hoarse. More a croak than a whisper. “We're all right. It's going to be all right.”
He pulled her into his arms, sitting her on his lap like a child, and she buried her face in his shoulder. He smelled of seawater and blood, but he was warm and solid. She felt beat of his heart and heard his breathing, still fast but slowing and deep.
“We are safe, Jess. I promise we are safe.”
Her face was wet and she realized that it wasn't water from her hair—her close-cropped head was nearly dry. She touched Noah's cheek. The line of his jaw was hard, stubbled, and damp with his own tears. “You came back for me. Again.”
“Always. I will always come for you.”
The moonlight disguised the beautiful color of his eyes, and shadows hid the bruises on his face. But as their gazes held, she could see fire in his eyes.
“You were unconscious in the car, bleeding. They left you for dead…”
“Shh. It’s all right. I am going to be fine. I promise.”
Anger poured through her and she tried to shake off the hands on her shoulders. Too close. He was too close. She couldn’t breathe because of how close he was. “You can’t promise that. No one can promise something like that.”
She felt rather than heard his intake of breath. He didn’t release her, even as she tried to squirm away.
“Please let me go.”
“No.”
With a sob, Jess slipped her hand up into his hair and pulled his lips to hers.
He resisted. Held, just a breath apart. His whisper tingled across her mouth, his words stealing into her heart. “You’re right. I can’t promise that everything will always be fine. But I can promise that I will love you as long as I live. And I will always come back for you.”
She pressed just the tiniest kiss against his lips. The touch was magic. It was torture. Her body ached to melt into his, her heart ached to rest in him. She wanted so badly to trust in him. To trust in the future.
Noah pulled her close, nestling his chin on her head. Somewhere nearby, police sirens flashed and lights danced around them like a disco. Their time alone on the beach would be over soon. So soon. “I can’t go back to who I was. I won’t. I can’t be that girl again.”
“Jessica. Jo Lynn. My love. I want you to go wherever you need to go. Be whoever you need to be. As long as you are happy.”
“With you?”
He quirked a smile. “Only if you want.”
“I do.”
Epilogue
Duffle bag slung over his shoulder, Noah walked the last half mile up the sandy road. He paused at the top of the small hill and took out the photograph he’d kept in his shirt pocket, close to his heart, for the past four weeks.
Below him sat a modest white cinder-block and wrought-iron beach house, surrounded by palm trees and dune grasses. A veranda wrapped the entire second story, and a dusty white compact car sat parked in the carport below the home. The morning sunlight twinkled over retreating waves. Down below, a figure crouched in the still-wet sand, pail in one hand and shovel in the other. Her hair had grown longer, covering the back of her neck in tousled waves of a sandy blonde-streaked brown.
Even from the distance, even with yet another change of hair color, he knew her.
The photograph of the beach house had been hand-delivered from her lawyer with no return address, no letter, only the name “San Fermin” scrawled on the back. By then, Jessica had been gone for nearly two months.
When Cole found them on the shore after the yacht explosion, huddled together and dripping, he brought news of Tallie Wilson. Her man, Harry, had been pulled from the water, a gunshot wound to the back of the head. The senator’s wife had brandished a gun from her rowboat and fired at the Coast Guard patrol boat that had tried to pull her ashore. Officers returned fire.
She died a week later of her wounds, providing more fuel to the media firestorm that erupted after the Senator’s suicide and the massive manhunt that followed. Somehow, Tony and Cole had kept Jessica’s part in the ordeal a secret, though news of her hospitalization did leak. During the week after their rescue, every gossip rag in the country ran stories speculating about Jessica Kingsbury being in rehab. She claimed not to mind the stories, but had to leave the hospital in the back of a delivery van to avoid the cameras.
No one seemed to connect the starlet to the FBI agent injured in the yacht explosion who was recovering from head trauma. Or to the Federal Marshall found shot in her car several miles away. No one leaked the fact that they spent their days in the hospital together in one room or the other. Watching TV, playing cards, talking. Sometimes while Noah slept, Jessica crept into his room and sketched the views from his window, or the flower arrangement sent by his family
She never told him when she would leave, or how, or where she was going. But he knew it was coming. She wouldn’t go back to her old life and he understood. One day, she simply left Los Angeles. Her mansion was listed for sale. Her staff given a generous severance. For Noah, she left nothing.
Noah began the slow walk down toward the beach home, following a trail of mosaic stepping stones that depicted roses, mountains. One reminded him of a certain jeweled necklace, but could just as easily have been a spray of flowers.
Finding San Fermin had been more of a challenge than he had expected. It wasn’t the name of a town, or even the local church. Instead, it turned out to be a festival held in the local village, along the Amatique Bay on the coast of Belize. It had taken him three long weeks of frantic preparation to give notice at work, find a renter for his house, sell his car, arrange one-way travel.
The beach house’s entry was a huge pair of mahogany doors that looked like they belonged to a church. Through the window, he caught a glimpse of tall unframed canvases lining the walls of a tiled open living space. He left his bag on the porch and walked around the side of the home. Pots overflowing with tropical flowers and brightly colored lounge chairs gave the balcony a welcoming look. It looked happy. Cluttered. Picturesque without looking too perfect.
He rounded the last corner of the house and his breath caught as he saw her, walking up towards the house. The sun had darkened a noticeable trail of freckles across her nose and bared shoulders. A flowing white cotton sundress draped her figure, and she carried a bucket of freshly dug clams in one hand. Her face looked fuller, less drawn than when he saw her last.
The moment she saw him standing there, her eyes flew wide. She dropped the bucket and ran toward him.
They met in the middle and clasped their bodies and their lips and their hearts. He cradled her head to him, running fingers through her silky hair. As their lips melded, he slid one hand down to her lower back to pull her closer. Her breasts were full and warm on his chest and her belly rounded firmly against his own.
He inhaled a deep breath and slipped his hand from her back around to her hip, his thumb caressing her thickened waistline, looking down at her expression, still slightly dazed from the kiss.
“I am so glad you came,” she said with a smile and a blush.
“I told you I would always come for you.”
She smiled again and placed one finger on his lips. “I know. That’s what I love about you, Noah Grayson. How long can you stay?”
“Until you make me leave.” The light that appeared in her eyes warmed him from the inside.
Jessica stood up on her toes and kissed him, while she led his hand to her swollen abdomen.
“Stay forever.”
The End
About the Author
A voracious reader since before she can remember, Kristi has always been drawn to romance, scie
nce fiction, and fantasy (preferably all three). Now, when she isn’t reading her favorite books to herself or to her kids, she is writing her own stories. Kristi, her husband, their two children, and their two cats live in St. Charles, Missouri.
Visit her online at www.KristiLea.com