“It doesn’t hurt.” I shrug, relishing her touch and trying not to react the longer she lingers on my skin.
Her fingers roam my face gingerly, looking for any cuts, bumps, or bruises, and she then picks up the kit. Setting it on the counter, she pulls out a small square foil packet containing a sterile wipe.
I arch a brow and hold out my hand. “I can do it. That’s going to sting.”
“Nope, I’m in charge.” Her teasing smile prompts my lopsided grin. “And are you afraid of a little sting? I promise to make it all better.”
“Okay.” I sit on a stool, widening my legs and pulling her by the waist so she’s standing between my legs.
With a shaky breath, she’s only inches from my chest, and all I can smell is her tropical goodness. It’s the same scent from high school, and I’m transported to what, while hard to believe, may have been a simpler time.
She leans closer, wiping the wet square cloth on the corner of my mouth. I hiss when the alcohol hits my flesh and wiggle in my seat.
Her thigh brushes against my knee, and warmth spreads through me. Then I tense when she blows on what must be my swollen lip to drive away the sting. I harden, blinking back the flare of desire sparking within me.
“Eva.” My fingers wrap around her wrist, and I inhale deeply, trying to control the urge to kiss her, to touch her. “Stop that. I’m fine.”
I push from the chair, looking to put distance between us so I can get ahold of myself and my urges.
The pucker of her full red lips falls into a flat line. “Okay. I think we need to talk.”
A knot of tension settles in my chest. “Yeah, we do, but I’m beat.”
It’s barely five and I’m a chickenshit. “You can stay here if you want. I can get my housekeeper to show you to a guest room and you can have whatever you want for dinner.”
I head to the door, turning my back to a surprised Eva. As much as I don’t know what to say, I can’t walk out like this, so I pause at the doorway, still not facing her.
“And I’m not sure I can handle goodbye tonight. Can we wait until tomorrow?”
“Who says it’s goodbye?”
Hope fires in my belly, and I twirl to face her. “For real?”
“I lied when I said I wasn’t sure if we had a future. I lied to both of us. I hate what happened with you and Bianca. But it is the past and you didn’t know I was alive. And I can’t change it.”
She swallows with difficulty, almost weighing her words—some I might not enjoy hearing or she might not enjoy saying. “It’s up to me whether I allow it to destroy our second chance at the life we deserve together. Or not.”
“Eva, I’m so sorry, and if I could change it, I would.”
She nods, a few tears sliding down her cheek. “I know. Jared, what we have…it’s rare and special. I can’t walk away from us even when things are difficult or test our limits. We belong together. Our love is true.”
Taking both my hands in hers, she guides me to the kitchen stools, pulling me down to sit so we’re more eye to eye.
“I told you that you were worthy of my love, and I meant it with every fiber of my being. It will take time for the ache to dull and hopefully go away, but I’m not going anywhere. A lie may have torn us apart, but I won’t let the past destroy us.”
“Eva, I have no words…this is what I want. Only you.” My heart rate spikes, and an easy grin slides onto my lips.
She has that effect on me. Easily erasing my fatigue and agitation at how shitty the past week has been. The desire to fall off the deep end was fierce and only intensified when I thought of a life without her.
But none of that matters anymore.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” She sways into me like a magnet to steel, and my hands latch on to her tiny waist.
Her sunny grin warms my insides, and I lean in, stealing a quick kiss even if it may be too soon. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. But you’re right, we can slow things down, give you time to process. As long as I can be with you, I can wait however long.”
“Thank you.” She cups my jaw and I glance down at her sundress, able to fully appreciate how amazing she looks in the dress now that I can think about more than losing her.
“Thank you for convincing me to leave.” I clear my throat, leaning back to put some distance between us, and her hand falls to my thigh.
“Why wouldn’t you leave when they dropped the charges yesterday?”
“I was safer inside.” I hang my head, ashamed to admit it but also knowing that I need to tell her, of all people. “I’d been in that bar because I was craving a high.”
Snorting, I shake my head. “Alcohol’s a downer, not an upper, but I just wanted to be numb. To escape life without you.”
“Jared.” She grabs my hand.
“It’s okay. This isn’t your fault. It’s the life of an addict. When things get rough, the urge is greater, but I didn’t fall. I was tempted. And then when the cops said I could leave, I had nothing to go to. I didn’t want to find myself in the same position again.”
“Didn’t you have your sponsor?”
“Yes.” I nod. “He was there for me, and I’d taken up a lot of his hours this past week. But that’s what he’s there for, I know that. And I went to NA meetings and talked to Silas a few times. I was dealing with it, but I was also exhausted from the struggle and it seemed easier to stay put—like I deserved the hellhole I was in.”
“Oh…I’m so sorry.” Tears well in her eyes.
“You aren’t to blame. None of this is your fault. You’re going to have to accept that you can’t carry my burden.” My hand slides to the back of her neck, holding her close to me.
“Then you walked in front of that jail cell and I almost swallowed my tongue. I was both stoked to see you and pissed.” I change topics to lighten the mood.
“Pissed?” She wrinkles her brow, twisting her lips, puzzled.
“Eva, half of those guys. Shit, no, all those men had a boner for you.”
She groans, burying her face in her hands. “Stop talking.”
“It’s true. You in this dress.” My appreciative gaze roams the plunging neckline of her cotton dress, flowing enough to hint at the shape of her sexy body. “And you aren’t wearing a bra.”
Her nipples perk up, tightening into peaks at my smoldering gaze, and I internally battle to stay in control. “I thought I was going to have to kill a few guys and there’d go my chances of getting out.”
She snorts, lifting her head to look at me. Her hand touches my cheek and her touch is electrifying.
“I was glad to see you but also remembered that you said we were a mistake.”
Flinching, she shakes her head vehemently in opposition. “I never should have said that. I was wrong. We could never be a mistake.”
She stays the night, in my bed, and we sleep together with her wrapped in my arms. I feel like a king and I have my queen.
Life is good.
Nothing else matters.
34
All I’ll ever need