Sound familiar?
Behind the office is Jamie’s RV. Leveled out on concrete pavers and already connected to power and water, it’s hidden away enough that suppliers and clients won’t see it from the driveway, but I will.
Dad and Mags are nowhere to be seen, and Jamie makes a note of this as she steps out of my truck. “I should find them and say thank you.”
I get out and join her. “Their truck’s gone.”
“Do you know when they’ll be back?”
Shaking my head, I tell her, “Nope.”
I follow her to a door on the side of the RV, where a bunch of keys is already in the lock. She opens it, steps inside, and because I’m only slightly curious, I follow her in there too. It’s nice. Much nicer than I expected a mid-sized RV to be. Fairy lights are hanging on the edges of the ceiling. A large enough bed to fit two on the left, a kitchen and eating area on the right behind the front seats, and directly ahead is what I assume to be the bathroom. There are pastel-colored curtains, throw rugs, and cushions scattered around. It reminds me of her room at Esme’s. “This is nice,” I tell her. “Much better than the stark white on white of your trailer.”
She’s between the two front seats, hands reaching into tight spaces, eyes scattered, searching. “Yeah, well, it’s my home, so…”
“Wait.” I try to stand to full height and wince when I hit the bottom corner of an overhead cabinet. Rubbing at the sore spot, I ask, “You live here?”
Jamie nods, distracted by her task. “Most of the time, I only really sleep in here. I’m either driving or working in—” She breaks off there, shaking her head. “Never mind.”
Hunched, so I don’t have a repeat head strike, I inch toward her. “Move.”
“What?”
“Maybe you just need a fresh set of eyes.”
“You don’t even know what I’m looking for.”
“I’m sure I’ll know when I find it.”
Our close proximities make it impossible not to brush against each other’s fronts as we swap positions, and as much as I try to ignore the way her breasts skim against my torso, my dick notices. My dick likes it. A little too much. My dick also hasn’t let go of the memories of daisy fields and incredible voyeuristic sex with the girl those tits belong to.
I try to hide my body’s reaction to our closeness by… shoving my hand down my sweats. Because that’s inconspicuous.
“Jesus, Holden,” Jamie breathes out, looking everywhere but at me.
“Shut up.”
I sit behind the wheel and search the floorboard first, then the pockets of the door, and then the dashboard. That’s when I notice the photograph taped to the instrument panel. It’s a picture of what my dick was just fantasizing about: a bright-eyed Jamie with windburned cheeks and a daisy chain for a crown.
I peel the picture off the clear plastic and inspect it closer, my pulse weakening the longer I stare at it. I push aside the stirring in my stomach, the one caused by longing and regret. Clearing my throat, I can’t take my eyes off the image as I say, “It’s a little self-absorbed to be driving around staring at a picture of yourself, no?”
There’s a click beneath me and then a shift, right before my head spins. Literally. She’s turned the seat around to face her, one hand gripping the headrest while the other reaches for the picture. Her breasts are right at eye level now, and they come closer and closer as she leans forward, her knee pressed down on my thigh to replace the picture back on the dash.
I don’t breathe.
Don’t move.
She starts to pull away, but she doesn’t get far because at some point, without thinking, I’ve wrapped my arms around her waist, and I’m holding her.
And I can’t even count how many times I’ve wanted to do this since she walked out on me. No explanations needed. No reasons. No discussions at all. I just wanted to hold her.
If only once.
If only for a second.
And now I have that.
“There’s nothing wrong with holding on to a piece of the past,” she whispers, her mouth so close to mine I can feel her breaths warm every inch of me. With my eyes closed, I lower my hands from her waist to her bare thighs, gripping tightly so I can adjust us until she’s straddling my lap. She’s hot between her legs, and she pushes down on my cock, moaning as her hands find my hair.
I let out a groan while my hands splay against her back, bringing her closer. Holding her tighter. I run my nose along her jaw. Nuzzle her neck. Inhale her into my lungs. God, what I wouldn’t give—
I stop my thoughts there.
This is so fucked up.
And I wish I could pinpoint the motivation behind what we’re doing, but I can’t.
I rear back, just enough to see her face clearly. “What are you doing here, Jamie?”
Eyebrows bunched, she says, “I told you. I did the puzzle, and—”
“Bullshit,” I cut in, loosening my hold on her. “Even if that’s true, it’s not enough of a reason to drive all the way here.”
Jamie shrugs, her gaze falling. “Maybe I missed you.”
I dip my head, searching her eyes for something else. Something more. Because I miss you is too fucking generic and it’s not going to cut it. “I had to move on, Jamie.” The words are out before I can stop them. Regret them. I release her entirely and help her to her feet. “And I’m not sorry about it.”
15
Jamie
It’s been less than twenty-four hours since I drove across the Welcome to Blessing sign, and everything I have experienced since I got here has been the absolute opposite.
I should leave.
I should just hop on a plane and go back to Esme’s, and… what? Squat at her house? Is that what it would be considered since, technically, I only own half of it? Fuck if I know.
Since the RV was still in travel mode when I drove it into a ditch, there wasn’t much to clean up. Besides the obvious damage to the exterior, plus the possibly irreparable axle, the destruction wasn’t too bad. I’m lucky, really, and I remind myself of that constantly in the hours I’ve sat in here trying to formulate a plan for the next few days. Not so much a plan, I guess, I just… I need to get in the right headspace if I’m going to be dealing with Holden on a daily basis.
Holden… the man whose actions say one thing while his words say another. Cool guy.
For hours, I’ve sat at the table with my laptop in front of me, trying to work, but I can’t clear my mind long enough to get anything substantial done. And I need to work. The events of the past couple of weeks have set me behind, and Holden is a jack hole.
Guh!
Clearly, he’s infiltrated every inch of my mind, and not in a good way. Though, I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s been like that since I saw him at the will reading. Scrap that. Even earlier when Esme’s church friends asked me to help with her funeral plans. There wasn’t a lot to do. It seems that Esme had been planning it herself for months, maybe even years.
It’s almost as if she’d been waiting for the moment.
Esme had a list of people she wanted to attend, and I was tasked with contacting those people.