“Jason—”
“I’m in love with you.” Squeezing my hand tightly, he brought our joined fingers to his thigh, pressing my palm there, like he was holding me captive through the simple touch, like he’d never let me go. “And you’re a better person than me, because I would not be okay with sending you on your way. Wherever you are, that’s where I’ll be. Always.”
Now I was breathing hard, unable to believe my ears.
Except . . . why shouldn’t I believe them? He’d said the words, hadn’t he? I’d been sitting right here, hadn’t I? I had no reason not to believe Jason; he’d never lied to me. He’d always told me the truth, even when doing so cast him in an unflattering light.
And if I believed him, that he loved me and needed me, then I guess everything was all settled.
“Okay then.” I nodded, turning my palm up to tangle our fingers together, breathing in a deep breath for the first time in what felt like forever. “I guess it’s all settled, then.”
“I guess it is,” he said. He wore no smile, but I heard one in his voice.
“So, Russia.”
“That’s right.”
I leaned closer to him, wanting to give him a kiss. “Then Ethiopia, or Morocco?”
“Correct.”
“And we’ll do what? Just lay around?”
He tilted his head back and forth as though considering. “Lay, stand, sit, bend over.” Jason turned his head and gave me a saucy wink. “The position doesn’t matter to me.”
I laughed, actually laughed, and smacked his arm lightly. “You are a bad man.” Goodness how I missed him, this. Everything when we were together felt so effortless even if I was blushing half the time. I loved it.
“Never any doubt.” Jason lifted my hand again, kissing it again.
But then he licked and nibbled at the spot between my fingers. My breath caught because it felt . . . incredible. Like he’d just revealed a secret passageway between my hand and clitoris.
“You should let me make love to you on the plane,” he said lightly, like we were discussing what to eat or which movie to watch.
“That’s . . . very tempting.” I’d meant to say, That’s impossible.
“I don’t want you thinking about what could go wrong.” He continued teasing me with his lips and tongue as he spoke. “I don’t want you worried about the future. Don’t think about it. Just trust me to take care of you.”
“You don’t get to tell me what I can think about.” I tried to sound grumpy but instead I knew I sounded breathless. Good gracious, I loved that tongue.
But I didn’t tell him that I wasn’t all that worried now that we were together. Perhaps it didn’t make any sense to most folks, but I’d always been someone who trusted the experts. Jason was an expert in traveling and disappearing. He loved me and he’d keep me safe, just like I’d keep him safe too.
“No. I don’t get to tell you what to think about. But that’s not what I’m doing,” he rasped out, his voice deep and persuasive. Paired with his tongue between my fingers, I was positively squirming in my seat. “I’m not demanding anything, Diane. I’m just telling you my wishes.”
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you make everything sound like a command. And enough of that. We can’t pull over and you’re getting me all twisty.” Restless from his seductive torture, I pulled his hand toward me and placed it benignly on my knee. “Fine. If your wishes are that I not worry about the future, what do you wish I’d think about?”
Unleashing a full grin, his eyes slid to me. “How about all the ways you plan on pleasing me.”
I barked a laugh, surprised even though I shouldn’t have been. Making a show of rolling my eyes, I didn’t try to hide my grin. It felt so very good to grin. “Is that so?”
“That is so.” He was smiling too, but his tone belied his seriousness.
“Any hints? Any special requests?”
“Surprise me,” he said, taking back his hand to scratch the side of his jaw.
“Don’t I always?”
His smile waned and he looked thoughtful. “Yes. You do,” he said, his voice sure and sober. “And no matter where we ultimately end up, I don’t want you to doubt for a second that I am completely yours.”
“And I’m completely yours.” I tugged on the seatbelt so I could lean forward across the arm rest and place a kiss on his cheek, unabashedly sniffing him before leaning away. He smelled just like I remembered, and a heady nostalgia both soothed my mind and squeezed my heart.
Funny to think Jason and I now had memories. We had habits and traditions, a past to recall, filled with good times and, yes, even a few surprising and tragic ones. And here we were, at the midpoint of our lives, starting completely over with new names, new identities, but ultimately none of that mattered.
What mattered? Well, let’s see. . .
To start with, I knew Jason would always make sure that I came first, both literally and figuratively. As I’d told Jennifer countless times, that was essential.
Also, he loved me—bossiness and all—and he showed it with more than words. Of note: the words were also very nice.
I trusted him. He trusted me. I enjoyed his company and he seemed to enjoy mine. We didn’t have a lot in common, but that just made everything so much more interesting, and what we did have in common—the ferocity with which we loved, our pragmatism, our perspective on accepting the things we could not change but giving gratitude for our gifts—made all the difference.
The previous chapter of my life was at an end, an entirely new one was set to begin, and wasn’t that a bit of a miracle? The past twenty plus years of my life—everything but my children, of course—might eventually become nothing but a footnote in my story. How wonderful that we as people could reinvent ourselves, have new loves, a new life, new adventures, a future that wasn’t predestined.
My life would have more than three chapters. I’d been an obedient child, and then I’d been a dutiful wife, and then I’d been a recovering divorcee. I didn’t quite know what I was now. On the run from the law, tragically separated from my children, and yet, also on journey with a man I loved.
I trusted him to take care of keeping me safe, and he trusted me to take care of him. I might not have any idea how our story would end. But a beginning based on mutual love and trust seemed like the perfect foundation for a future.
Certainly, neither of us were perfect. And perhaps that made us perfect for each other.
-THE END-
Subscribe to Penny’s awesome newsletter for exclusive stories, sneak peeks, and pictures of cats knitting hats. Subscribe here: http://pennyreid.ninja/newsletter/
Read on for a sneak peek of Just Folking Around, book #0.5 in the Good Folk: Modern Folktales series. Available for FREE on all retailers!
About the Author
Penny Reid is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author of the Winston Brothers and Knitting in the City series. She used to spend her days writing federal grant proposals as a biomedical researcher, but now she writes kissing books. Penny is an obsessive knitter and manages the #OwnVoices-focused mentorship incubator / publishing imprint, Smartypants Romance. She lives in Seattle Washington with her husband, three kids, and dog named Hazel.