“Sex torture, that thing you did when you…when you didn’t let me orgasm until I told you what you wanted to hear.”
“You’re adorable.”
“I’m not adorable.” I roll my eyes, picking up my towel from the end of the bed.
“You are. Now, are you ready to go have pancakes?” he asks, taking the towel out of my hand and tossing it toward the bathroom on the ground, making me frown.
“I was going to hang tha—”
He cuts me off, lowering his mouth over mine in a brutal kiss that causes my legs to become weak. When his mouth leaves mine and I finally get my eyes open, I find him looking down at me with a very smug smile.
“Now…are you ready for pancakes?” he asks again.
“You’re annoying,” I tell him, taking a step back and turning toward the door, making a point to stomp down the hall and down the stairs. I notice on the way that something looks different, but I can’t figure out what it is. When we reach the kitchen, Jax lifts me onto the counter and starts pulling out the ingredients to make pancakes.
“What happened here?” he asks, stopping in front of me. I absently feel him run his fingers over the skin of my knee, but my eyes are glued to his abs and the outline of his hard-on under his sweats.
“Baby.”
“Hmm?” I mumble in a daze, feeling a tingle in my core.
“What happened to your knees? Did I do that?” he asks, sounding concerned, and my eyes move to focus on his fingers that are once more running over one knee then the other. Seeing the bruise; it’s not huge, but it’s noticeable.
“Mellissa tripped me when I was walking past her at the salon.” I shrug, trying not to make a big deal out of it. She already ruined my dinner. I won’t allow her to ruin our night.
“What the fuck?” he rumbles as I shake my head, pressing my hand against his chest.
“She’s jealous and evil. Honestly, I can’t believe you dated her,” I tell him, moving my hand up to his jaw and running my fingers over it, gaining his gaze.
“We dated in high school,” he explains.
“You still dated her. I can’t imagine she was any different back then.”
“You’re right. She’s always been the same.”
“So why does she think you’re hers now?” I ask. His chest expands on a deep breath, and I can tell he doesn’t want to tell me.
“We hooked up.”
“You slept with her recently,” I clarify, and his jaw begins to tick.
“I hate that you’ve had to see that part of my past. I hate that it keeps popping up, but I can’t change it.”
“I haven’t asked you to change it. I mean, if my ex-sex partners were popping up all the time, coming to the house, showing up at restaurants and your job, you would have to deal, right?” I ask, watching that tick in his jaw turn into a grind, and his hand on my thigh tightens almost painfully.
“Let’s not talk about you being with anyone else,” he grits out.
“Why? You wouldn’t feel the same way about me that you do now?” I question, tilting my head and raising a brow. “Cause that would be a huge double standard.”
“I would learn to deal with it, or I’d end up in jail.”
“Well, I guess I’m just a bigger person than you are,” I say, pressing my lips together to keep from laughing when his eyes narrow.
“You’ve got a smart mouth. Maybe I should give you something to fill it.”
“Yeah, food,” I say, pointing at the bowl next to me, and he smiles, but then his face goes serious.
“I’m sorry about Mellissa, baby. I hate that she did that to you, and I really hate that she ruined our date.”
“She’s not here, so I win.” I smile with a shrug, and his face goes soft.
“You’re too good for me, Ellie.” His hand comes up to rest on the underside of my jaw and his thumb moves across my lips. “Way to fucking good for me, but now that I’ve had you and I’ve fallen in love with your daughter, I won’t give you up. I will never give you up,” he says, leaning in, placing a soft kiss on my mouth, and then moving to the stove before I can reply. I don’t want to hope, but God I’m hoping he’s feeling for me even half of what I’m feeling for him right now.
“Baby.”
“Yeah?” I ask, lifting my gaze to meet his.
“This thing is going to last. We have time, lots of it, to figure it all out. But you and Hope have all of me. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I agree breathlessly, feeling something right settle over me knowing that I’m falling in love with him.
I pray in loving him I will have the family I’ve so desperately craved since my dad passed away.
Hope would be able to have the family I never did. With that thought, anxiety settles in my gut. If things don’t work out, where will that leave Hope? Is it fair to her to give her all of this, only to have it taken away?
“What’s that look?”
Licking my bottom lip, I shake my head, murmuring, “Just spaced out.”
He moves back to stand in front of me once more and takes my face between his large hands. “Tonight, we have pancakes and watch a movie. Tomorrow, we go pick up Hope from my folks and spend the day with her. The next day, Hope is with me during the day while you’re at work, and when you get off work, we’ll have dinner together. The day after that, we figure it out, Ellie, but we’ll figure it out together.”
“Okay,” I agree, because I don’t know what else to do.
“Okay,” he repeats softly then demands, “Now kiss me,” lowering his face toward mine, just far enough away that I will need to be the one to close the gap between us. I know this is a test. If I kiss him, I’m saying I trust him. If I don’t close the gap, I don’t believe in him or us. Lifting up without thought, I press my lips to his. I know this is one of those moments my grandmother told me about, one of the moments when you either have to push your fears aside or let them swallow you whole. I want this, and if this ends up being something beautiful, I know it will have been worth the risk, and if it ends up blowing up in my face, I will just have to survive off of the beautiful moments we make now.
When his lips leave mine and move to press gently to my forehead in a soft touch, I absorb the feeling in my chest and sit back. I watch him move to the stove and turn it on, and then smile as he mixes pancake batter and places the mixture on the pan on the stove top, absorbing everything about this moment. I’m not sure why this point in time seems so important, but I know it is.
*
“How many kids do you want?”
Shifting on the couch so I can see his face, I feel my heartbeat accelerate from the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice. When we finished eating pancakes, he led me into the living room and settled me on the couch between his legs so that my body was half on his. His legs were settled around me, and he turned on the TV to some scary movie that I knew I would end up sleeping through. “Baby,” he says, pulling me from my thoughts.
“I…I don’t know. I guess I never really thought about it,” I say, rolling to my stomach, placing my hands on his abs, one on top of the other, and settling my chin on top of them. “How many kids do you want?” I ask, studying his face.