But he’d never been as scared as he’d been a minute ago. Seeing Jayme on the receiving end of the muzzle of a gun had been the most frightened he’d ever been in his life. He couldn’t live without her. Now that he’d found her, Rocket knew without a doubt that losing her would make him a shell of the man. She was his better half, and he damn well knew it.
“Rocket?” He heard her say his name, but all he could do was shake his head and bury his nose harder into the velvety skin between her shoulder and neck. Her thick hair tickled his face, but he didn’t care.
“You’re hurting me,” she whispered.
He immediately loosened his grasp and pulled back to look at her. It was the only thing she could’ve said that would’ve made him let go. He’d never hurt her. He’d rather die first.
The first thing he saw was that her pupils were dilated to twice their usual size. Her face was white, and she was frowning. Then he saw the blood. It wasn’t a lot, but there was a small stream of bright red blood oozing down the side of her temple. “You’re bleeding,” he whispered, knowing he was probably in shock.
Jayme lifted a hand to wipe her face, but Rocket caught it before she could touch herself.
“Is it bad?” she asked.
“No.” It wasn’t, but still, seeing even a drop of Jayme’s blood was horrifying.
“I think when the case shattered, some of the glass must’ve hit me,” she said softly.
“You weren’t shot?” Rocket asked, belatedly realizing that should’ve been the first thing he did…check her for serious injuries.
“No. At least I don’t think so.”
Rocket immediately began to run his hands over her body, checking for gunshot wounds. When she didn’t flinch away from his touch, and he didn’t find any more blood, he breathed out a sigh of relief.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Me?” he said in confusion.
She picked up one of his hands and held it gently. “Your poor hands,” she said softly.
Rocket didn’t give a shit about the condition of his hands. As far as he was concerned, he’d wear his scrapes and bruises with pride. Besides, his hands were always nicked and beaten up because of his job. Not to mention stained with the oil he was constantly getting all over them at the garage.
“Nobody move!” a harsh voice ordered from near the door.
Turning his head, Rocket saw a police officer standing just inside the door with his weapon drawn.
Taking a deep breath, he did his best to get control of his body and mind once more. Jayme was all right. As was he. It would take some time for the officers to figure out what had gone down tonight, but he had no doubt the videos would exonerate him for nearly killing the man still lying unconscious nearby.
Jayme was safe. Nothing else mattered.
Epilogue
Christmas Day
Jayme woke up on December twenty-fifth and sighed in contentment. She was wrapped tightly in Rocket’s arms, just as she’d been when she went to sleep. They’d both been a bit clingy for the last two days, which was all right with her. Memaw had also been hit hard by what had almost happened.
Jayme knew she’d never forget the look on Rocket’s face as he ran toward the young man with the gun nearest to her. He was one hundred percent focused on getting to the man and preventing him from hurting her. Of course, there was no way he could’ve prevented a bullet from hitting her; luckily the shot had gone wide and had hit the cold case behind her instead of tearing through her flesh.
Seeing Rocket beat the man into unconsciousness should’ve turned her off. The violence should’ve freaked her out, but what had scared her instead was how hard it had been to get Rocket to stop.
They both had a kind of post-traumatic stress disorder from the robbery, and she knew it would take a while for either of them to feel safe shopping anywhere again. And Jayme had a feeling Rocket wasn’t going to let her go into any gas stations or convenience stores anytime soon. But that was all right with her. She wasn’t too keen on the idea herself.
They’d spent Christmas Eve with Memaw and would be heading back over to her house today. Her grandmother needed the reassurance of her presence, and honestly, Jayme needed her memaw’s presence as well.
“Good morning,” Rocket said softly. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” she told him softly. She didn’t pull out of his arms, but tilted her head up so she could see his eyes. She watched as his gaze roamed her face then over her shoulders, as if he was visually inspecting her to make sure she was all right.
“How do you feel this morning?” he asked.
“I’m good. How are you? How do your hands feel?” She’d been dismayed to see his hands scraped up and bruised, but he’d merely shrugged and told her that they’d heal soon enough.
“They’re fine,” he told her, smoothing a piece of hair behind her ear.
Jayme had always loved his hands. He’d admitted that he was extremely self-conscious about them, because they were usually stained with oil. But the calluses he hated felt amazing against her bare skin, and the fact that he could palm her ass cheeks with those hands and hold her up while he took her against a wall, or on the counter, or anywhere else, made her shiver with delight.
And now she knew he’d do whatever it took to protect her with those hands as well.
Taking one gently, she kissed the palm before holding it to her cheek and giving him the weight of her head.
“I love you,” Rocket said.
“I love you too. What’s the plan for today?” she asked.
“I told Winnie we’d be over for lunch,” Rocket said.
Jayme nodded. “She claims not to like presents, but she does.”
“Sounds like someone else I know,” Rocket said with a grin.
Jayme could only smile back. It was true. She loved presents. Didn’t matter what they were. Rocket could wrap up a fork and she’d be happy. But judging by the pile of presents under the tree downstairs, he’d gone overboard.
He pulled away from her to reach into the drawer next to his side of the bed, then rolled back over to face her.
He was holding a small black velvet box.
Jayme looked from the box to his eyes in surprise. “What’s this?”
“I’ve had this for months. I was trying to come up with the perfect time to give it to you. I wanted to give you a story you could tell our kids and grandkids that would blow them away and make them think their dad and grandfather was the shit. But after what happened, I’m not willing to wait one second longer. So I have no extravagant gestures, no balloons, no flash mob singing some sappy song. I’m just a man who’s madly in love with you, and who doesn’t want to wait to make you his in every way possible.”
Jayme’s heart nearly stopped in her chest when he opened the small box and continued.
“I’ve waited my whole life for you, Jayme Caldwell. I love you more than you’ll ever know. Will you marry me? Have children with me? I know this is an insane time for you with your bakery opening in a week, but life is never guaranteed, I think we both learned that after what happened.”
Jayme’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t need any huge gestures. I just need you. Yes, of course I’ll marry you!”