But that last one, he thought with a sigh, was of them together on their last day in New York. They’d gone into an arcade and acted like ten-year-olds playing games, and then they’d slid into a photo booth and made goofy faces. He’d insisted on keeping the copy of the three images that their five bucks had earned them. Best money he’d spent that weekend. That and the second pack of condoms they’d needed.
“She doesn’t know what to think,” Savanna said after a pause as if realizing Jesse needed a moment to collect his thoughts. “Ella, um, told me about the fight earlier. Well, she told me that she yelled at you. She feels bad about it. Regret might not be the exact word she used, but I swear that woman gives me whiplash when it comes to you. Most likely because she’s as hot and cold toward you as you seem to be toward her.”
Anger and arousal . . . the only two emotions he and Ella were capable of when they were together. Her words. The last words she’d spoken to him before walking back to the party, alone. Jesse was unable to shake them from his head or the idea that she didn’t think that “middle place”—happiness—was possible for them.
Because I’m a screwup, aren’t I? Those deep, ugly and familiar roots constricted around him like he was stuck inside a Venus flytrap.
“Ella may worry your vows were only part of the show, but maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”
“No?” He shot her a puzzled look.
“Because it gives you a chance to tell her how you feel again. And this time without an audience. Maybe after you’ve earned back her trust, she’ll believe you too.”
How was he supposed to earn her trust back when he wasn’t so sure he could trust himself not to mess up again?
“Do you think I can change?” he found himself asking Savanna.
She patted his hand. “Honestly, it doesn’t matter what I think. It only matters if you believe it’s possible.” She pointed to the bedroom. “Why don’t you two talk?”
“I don’t think she wants to be alone with me. Or hear what I have to say, for that matter.”
“She does, even if she won’t admit it.” Savanna lifted her palm. “Plus, I have a feeling if you two go in that room, maybe you’ll—”
“Savanna,” he chided, then lowered his voice. “In your romance books, what would happen if two people, one of whom hates the other, were alone in that room?” I’ve officially lost it. Romance novels?
Though it might be nice to be a fictional character for a day. According to Savanna, “real romance” required that the good guys win and there was always a happily-ever . . . something or other.
“Well,” she said, turning in her seat to fully face him, “she, the heroine, doesn’t actually hate him. She’s hurt. But more than that, she’s scared and frustrated.”
Her words were jabs to his head and heart.
“And the guy, the hero, is misunderstood. He’s kept secrets from her for years. But everything he did was because he didn’t believe he deserved this woman. So, in trying not to break her heart by staying away from her, he wound up doing exactly that.” Savanna’s eyes shifted to her fiancé. Was she remembering their own story? Their journey to find each other?
“And then what?” Jesse could guess how this story ended, but he needed to hear it. To believe real life, his life, could imitate art.
“The guy realizes that not being with her is far worse than anything else, and he finds a way to win her back, whatever the cost.” She paused. “Throw in some miscommunication. A fight or two to add some angst. And, well, you know, to ramp up the sexual tension.”
We have the angst and tension down pat.
“And then poof. All is right in the world. They’d get married or have a baby. Probably both.” Savanna’s cheeks grew pink as she whispered the last part.
Well, we’re kind of married already. And the thought of Ella carrying his child . . .
“That bedroom has magical powers, by the way.” Savanna tipped her chin in that direction.
“I don’t want to know what you and Griffin did in the bedroom on your last trip together.” Well, it was less a trip and more to take down the bad guys hunting Savanna. “You’re like my sister, and it’s bad enough I have to know Rory’s trying to make a baby with a SEAL.”
“Would it be better if he was Army?” Savanna asked teasingly. There was a bit of a Navy–Army rivalry between the guys. Okay, “a bit” was an understatement.
“Maybe, but just barely.” He peered Ella’s way, seeing that she had moved to a different seat. Still by the bedroom but facing him now.
“Pretty sure that’s how A.J. feels about you, and he doesn’t even know that you and his sister . . .” Her words trailed off, and she audibly swallowed, likely realizing she wasn’t supposed to know that he and Ella had slept together.
“It’s okay,” he said while returning his focus to Savanna. “I figured if Rory knows, you know what happened in New York too.”
“If New York’s not a prequel for your story, then I don’t know what is.” Savanna, the optimist with the big heart, patted her thighs, then stood. “Well, I’ll let you mull over your plans. But I wouldn’t wait too long. Once we arrive in Albania, you’ll be gearing up to operate.”
Right. Griffin won the coin toss, so he’d be staying on the jet in the terminal with Ella and Savanna, and Jesse couldn’t help but wonder if Griffin had somehow rigged the flip.
Griffin was as determined and stubborn about Savanna’s safety as Jesse was about Ella’s.
Savanna laughed when Jesse mock-saluted her as if saying “aye, aye, captain,” then made her way to Griffin, who met her in the aisle and roped her into his big arms.
Griffin rested his chin atop Savanna’s head and sent Jesse a look that said—What she said, do it.
Jesse uncrossed his ankle from over his knee and pocketed his wallet. Maybe he could try and get some rack time?
But as soon as his lids sealed out the light, all he could think about was taking his “wife” into the bedroom and making love to her on their wedding night. And no rules this time.
He’d kiss that sweet, sassy mouth before sinking to his knees to lift the skirt of her dress and pepper kisses across the exposed skin of her stomach. Then he’d use his teeth to slide her panties down those beautifully tanned legs, kiss his way back up, and devour her like the starved man he was. Memories of that weekend in New York started flipping through his mind, each one kicking up his heart rate another notch. The way she moaned when he played with her nipples. The sight of her reddened ass cheeks in his firm grip as he took her from behind. How those perfect tits of hers bounced as she rode him like it was her damn job. She was so fucking sexy, insatiable, perfect. And he wanted all of that again, now.
He needed to stop his thoughts before he shot his load right there, but when he opened his eyes and peered at Ella’s beautiful face, he knew he wouldn’t survive the rest of the flight without releasing his tension. More importantly, he wouldn’t be able to operate without relief first.
As much as he’d love to pull her into that bedroom, it wouldn’t be right to mess with her mind like that. No, he had to be certain he was capable of change and that it was possible for them to reach “the middle” of that spectrum, happiness.