by Brynn Ford
My feet were moving beneath me before I even made the decision to go to the door. Darren nodded at me when I came up behind him and he stepped back, pulling the door open wide with him.
Blue caught blue as my eyes met Jasper’s.
We looked and waited.
We breathed and burned.
I seethed at the audacity he had to show up here, unannounced, charging after me as if he had some sort of claim over me. I softened at the look on his face that was filled with anguish. It was clear his confidence was broken and he was fearful of my reaction.
I’d never seen that much expression in his features before.
He yielded, waited for me to react, but I didn’t know how.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
He swallowed, shoving his hands in his pockets, “I couldn’t stand to watch you walk away.”
I held my breath, “That doesn’t answer the question.”
“I thought about what I wanted to say to you the entire trip,” he sighed, “I know I have a million things to say to you and I can’t think of a single one right now. All I can think to say is that I’m sorry.”
I shifted, crossing my arms over my chest, “What do you have to be sorry for?”
His eyes skated over my form and he stepped back as he came to the correct conclusion that I was anything but open to him.
“I just want to tell you I’m sorry for everything I’ve ever done that made you feel like anything less than a queen in my eyes. I just need you to know that I’m gonna be here for you no matter what happens. No matter what, I’m yours now.”
My lungs halted as I forgot how to breath.
What does that mean?
He’s mine now?
He’s mine now.
He went on, “I know you just arrived, and it’s late, so I won’t keep you. I’ll be in town for a couple of nights if you,” he paused, shrugged, “You have my number.”
He nodded at Darren, stepping back and turning away. He stepped down off the porch. He was walking away.
My brain faltered.
What do I want?
Do I let him walk away?
Do I run after him?
Why is he walking away after coming all this way?
I stepped outside onto the porch and called after him, “You don’t get to chase after to me to drop a bomb like this and then just walk away, Jasper. You don’t get to take control like that!”
He stopped, turned, walked the few steps back to stand below me at the bottom of the porch steps.
He looked up at me, apologetic, “You’re right.”
Breath by quickening breath I waited.
I waited for clarity.
I waited for understanding.
I waited for me.
I waited for him.
I waited for us.
He took one hand out of his pocket, holding it out toward me. He stood still, his expression hopeful, but full of ache and fear. I took one step down, unsure what I was thinking or what I was going to do. It was the strangest turn in who we were. Neither of us had ever been so unsure.
The uncertainty between us is what drew me to take another step. The closer I got to him the more I felt I needed him. The heartache of everything I’d been through, all of the broken dreams and shattered trust shook me from the inside, forcing a shiver of painful emotions to climb inside my ribcage and wrap around my beating heart, shaking it into stillness and submission.
When my heart seized in its grip, I had no choice but to reach out to the only man who could make it pulse emotion through my veins again.
My hand landed on his.
I pulled.
He stepped.
Our bodies collided as our arms wrapped around each other. He sighed against me, his face burrowing quickly into the side of my neck. I breathed him in, deeply inhaling the sweet peppermint scent of him that sparked familiarity and comfort deep within me. We molded together where we stood on that bottom porch step and simply held each other because words would fail us if we tried to use them.
“Why don’t you both come inside?” Darren said, still at the door watching all of this unfold, “I’ll make another cup of tea.”
* * * * *
I curled up on the corner of the couch again with my cup of tea as Law lowered into the armchair across from me. Callen had graciously convinced Darren of just how tired they both were, dragging him off to bed to allow Law and I some privacy to talk in the living room.
The space between us was all at once awkward, comfortable, tense, and easy. Contradictions and mixed up emotions always swirled between the two of us, which was equal parts frustrating and exhilarating.
"Did they…has the press release come out yet?" I asked as a way to break through.
I had turned my cell phone off because I didn’t want calls from media, or friends and family for that matter.
"Yeah, it was just coming out when I got on the flight over."
I shook my head, "I just couldn't be there anymore.”
He switched gears so fast, I didn’t see it coming, “I miss you. I miss seeing you, talking to you. Hell, I miss playing with you."
I set my mug on the side table, "Don't do that."
"I'm just telling you the truth."
I grabbed the cream-colored fleece throw from the back of the couch, pulling it tightly across me, balling my fists beneath the fabric as I lifted it to my chin.
"Your truth hurts me and it's not fair."
He sighed, "I'm sorry that it hurts you. I really am."
"What am I supposed to do with that? Knowing that you miss me? If you can't be the partner I want you to be, then what does it matter?"
He dropped his head into his hands, fingers digging through his hair. Silence fell and I wished I could shred the thick pieces of it that sucked the air from my lungs.
It hurt me to have him here.
It hurt me to want him.
But it hurt even more to see him so out of control. He wasn’t behaving like the man I knew.
"Jasper," I offered quietly.
He lifted his head to look at me and it took my breath away. His eyes were pristine blue pools filling with hushed tears.
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't move.
I couldn't feel anything but the overwhelming need to comfort him, even through my own hurt.
I tossed the blanket aside and put my feet on the floor, "Come here," I demanded.
He didn't hesitate or recoil at my command. He lifted from his seat and came to me, dropping to his knees. I scooted forward and opened my legs, offering him a space to settle. Goosebumps prickled along my arms as he gave me something I had been longing for in that one simple movement.
I took his face in my hands, cupping his cheeks with gentle touch. Tears of my own were welling to see him this way, but I inhaled sharply and held them inside, determined not to let them fall and cloud my vision.
“Tell me everything,” I told him.
I didn't care anymore that part of the reason I left was because I didn’t think I could continue to have these conversations with him. Every conversation turned into a stupid argument that twisted and turned and spun us around and around the same point in space. But I recognized the difference in the here and now. He had taken a plane to chase after to me, to tell me what was going on in his head. He was here now, and as scared as I was, as lost as I felt, seeing him like this made the need to know what he had to say overwhelming.
His voice broke as he spoke to me and it sent a shockwave through my body to hear his vulnerability so palpable, "I'm on my knees for you, Christine."
I nodded, bending closer to him, "I know. Just tell me why."
"Because I need you. I miss you. I want you."
I let out a breath, dropping my forehead to touch his, "Why now? Why couldn't you give me this before?"
His hands were on my thighs, gripping me, holding onto me as if he were afraid I might float away.
"Because
I'm a fucking idiot. I've been searching for the wrong thing in all the wrong places. I put you in a box when you left me for Asher. I never resolved how I felt about you then. I just put it in a box and hid it away in the corner of my mind."
"I would've stayed,” I admitted, “If you'd just told me then, I would've stayed."
"I didn't know it then, Angel. I wasn't ready for you then. I was afraid that you made me feel weak. But I was wrong. You challenged me and made me grow and I'm stronger than I ever was before, even here on my knees for you."
The tears I was holding back pushed forward with force, threatening to break from the corners of my eyes. I pressed my eyes shut, breathing in. His hands creeped up my thighs, slipped over my hips, and wrapped around my waist, pulling me against him. As he slid me forward, all the way to the edge of my seat, he embraced me sensuously, his head turning sideways, pressing against my heart.
"I've fallen for you, Angel. I'm yours. And I want you to be mine."
Everything I ever wanted was resting in my arms, and though I should have been elated, I felt indignant. I felt blindsided. He invaded my escape from reality. It was his dominance showing up again, all because he had lost control of me, because I had chosen to leave.
Perhaps I was just too stubborn and afraid to see it any differently.
“What do you expect me to say?” I asked quietly, gently, “Did you think you could just chase after me, surprise me with your confession, and everything would be perfect?”
He lifted his head, looking up at me with slanted brow, “I don’t expect anything from you. I just couldn’t go another day without telling you what I feel.”
I leaned back, wanting separation from the warmth of his touch, “You’ve had all the time in the world. You’re only here now because I took the opportunity from you when you finally decided to seize it. You’re taking control of a situation that isn’t yours to take control of.”
He sat back on his heels, his hands falling away from me into his lap, “I don’t even know what the fuck to say to that.”
“I’m surprised. You always seem to know exactly what to say to manipulate the situation for your own benefit.”
Here we go again.
“That’s not fair.”
He got to his feet, exactly as I expected him to. He couldn’t stay on his knees for me when I was so effectively threatening his credibility.
His pacing fed me energy I didn’t want. I had planned to drink my chamomile tea in peace, catch up with my brother, fall asleep crying into my pillow over Jasper.
Jasper, who had denied me.
Jasper, who had chased after me.
Jasper, who claimed to love me now.
I shot to my feet, taking my mug still full of tea to the kitchen. I dumped it into the sink, turning on the faucet to rinse it. I hadn’t finished drying it out when Law came up beside me, taking the mug and towel from my hands and setting them on the countertop.
“Did you ever stop to think that’s exactly what you’ve been doing to us all along? Manipulation for your benefit? You can’t commit to being one thing or the other. Always the switch. Never truly dominant or submissive. Constantly changing your mind. You’ve been controlling me all along by denying me the privilege of kissing you.”
I snapped to face him, “Are you being serious right now?”
He crowded me, “Am I ever anything but serious, Angel? Did you ever think that your constant fluidity might just be the weak link in the chain that holds us together?”
“That’s a rich metaphor coming from you. Always whips and chains. Forever the romantic.”
“What are you even saying?”
What the fuck am I saying?
“God, you drive me insane!”
I turned around to walk away from him in my agitation. I took one step and his hand was on my wrist, dragging me back to him. I let him. I could’ve pulled my arm away, but I didn’t.
He held my wrist between us as he pulled me to his chest. I looked at him, my chest heaving, whether from frustration or anger or goddamn wanting, I didn’t know for sure.
I did know one thing for sure.
I wanted to know the truth about what he was feeling for me and I wouldn’t get it with words.
I needed him to do the one thing I had been denying him the privilege of doing. I needed him to kiss me, to feed me all the truth I was afraid to feel, the truth I was afraid I wouldn’t feel when his lips met mine. For me, it was the only way to truly know his heart.
I swallowed and took a steadying breath, “I need you to show me that you want me, that you love me, that you’re all in.”
He knew what I was asking for.
He turned me, backed me up against the refrigerator, and held me in place with his body. He stared down at me with bright blue eyes that told me things they never told me before. They spoke to me in another language that I didn’t know. I closed mine and prayed his kiss would translate. I prepared to listen with my heart.
His hand slipped from my wrist to my fingers, lacing them together. I shuddered at the intimacy of such a simple act. When he took my other hand and did the same, I had to open my eyes again. I had to see his face, read his expression.
He looked humbled, scared, determined. I let my head fall back against the cold metal of the fridge, watching him with discernment as he inhaled shakily.
His voice was soft, “I don’t want to fuck this up, sweetheart.”
“Then don’t.”
He dropped his forehead to mine, slowly releasing my hands and dragging his fingertips up my arms. I felt the immediate tug of desire deep in my belly. He always had that effect on me, where one touch could turn me on like no other.
I always questioned it.
Maybe it was chemistry.
Maybe it was just his charm.
Maybe, just maybe, it really is something more.
I want it to be something more.
He grazed my shoulders, sliding his hands up my neck to hold my face in both hands. I could feel his subtle tremble as his feet shuffled closer, as his body melted into mine.
“You’re the only woman who could ever bring me to my knees, Christine Warren. And if I can convince you to let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you’re the only woman who ever will.”
The rest of my life.
His lips touched mine, barely a brush, a gentle breath of contact that melted my insides to liquid. I felt it immediately and he was barely kissing me.
I felt his restrained passion.
I felt his controlled emotions.
I felt his longing.
When his lips parted, mine parted with them. The softness of his touch took hold of me, it took control of me and I wanted it to. He slipped his tongue between my lips, but that was soft, too, seeking me out rather than taking from me.
I thought he would take from me.
He didn’t take anything.
He gave and in return I gave into him.
I met his tongue with mine, tasting, dancing, taking every unspoken word he fed me. He kissed me deeper, his pace and his passion increasing in equal measure.
I could feel it, everything he wanted to tell me, everything he wanted to say. His kiss was intoxicating. It was overwhelming. My chest tightened with the strain of painful emotions that washed over me. It was the heartache of everything that had happened with Asher, the trauma of what he did to me, the fear of letting myself fall in love only to be hurt again.
I fought the onslaught of emotions, pushing back against his lips, roughly sending him my pain and fear with the force of my kiss.
He stepped back, snatching me around the waist and dragging me with him. With my hands on his chest, I pushed him back until he hit the island countertop behind us, never breaking contact between our eager mouths.
I fisted his tie with both hands, so glad that he hadn’t gone for comfort on his flight to chase after me. I held it to anchor me, to keep me steady, to hold myself to him, but also to hold him t
o me.
I pulled at the tie, encouraging him to kiss me harder, faster, with more force. He obliged with gratitude and God, it felt so good.
I had never, never felt so perfectly devoured.
He held me so close to him that I could feel every breath he took and every ripple of his tightening muscles as he struggled to stay in control of himself.
I grappled with myself, never wanting this kiss to end as he swallowed down my fears and replaced them with passion.
Not just passion.
Love.
Every part of me felt his love in that kiss and I knew everything had just changed.
Law loves me.
Jasper Haven loves me.
And though it was terrifying for me to admit, I knew then that I loved him, too.
Chapter 28
Law
It hasn’t been long enough.
Our kiss broke years earlier than I wanted it to.
If I could’ve stood there with her, in that kitchen at her brother’s house in Michigan, kissing her like that for the rest of my life, it wouldn’t have been long enough.
But I didn’t end it, she did, and so I had to let it end.
I just hoped it had been enough to convince her that I wanted to make a life with her in it. She was guided by her sharp intuition and I knew how meaningful a kiss between the two of us would be for her. It was why she denied me of that privilege for so long, because of how important it was.
Ris still held my necktie in both hands as her lips left mine, “Well, that changes everything,” she whispered.
I felt such relief at those words that I crushed her in my embrace, pulling her impossibly closer. She finally let go of my tie to snake her arms beneath mine, wrapping them around my waist.
“I told you, Christine. I love you. I need you and I want to figure out how to do this. How to do us.”
She shivered in my hold, “I never, ever thought I’d hear you say that,” she pulled back, looking up at me, “Everything has to change if we want to stand a fighting chance.”
I brushed my hand over her hair down the side of her head, “We’ll do what we have to do, but I need to hear you tell me first. I need to hear you say you love me, too.”