Page 7 of The Billionaire's Caress

He nodded at the countertop, one of the monitors perched within eyesight. I wiped a hand across the glass and saw Hope was snuggled up in her crib.

When he stepped in the shower, panic gripped my chest and I found myself wishing that it wouldn’t stick. That she’d lift her honey brown head and let out a wail and a string of baby babble to alert us that nap time was over...and I wouldn’t have to look into her daddy’s eyes, eyes that told me he was ready to talk and put all this behind us—right before I shared that I ran into Corbin.

I stepped to the side, even though there was plenty of room for the both of us, and several other people. Mentally, I felt like we weren’t alone anyway. There was Megan, trying to play devil’s advocate after we left the concert. If he doesn’t mean anything to you now, maybe you don’t have to technically share that you saw him. Even if I was a big fan of pretending like the last two hours never happened, how could I swallow the hypocrisy? Our whole argument before all of this was rooted in my belief that I wasn’t getting the whole story from Jacob. There was no way that I could abracadabra Corbin Wolfe away. I wouldn’t.

My mother’s voice scratched around in my head too, another vote for minimizing. She was far from impartial, since she was the one that had to deal with sullen, heartbroken Leila. That summer before I went to college was probably the longest summer of her life—first, she had to put up with this alpha dude who spent every waking hour at our house, then a month of me trying to put myself back together when he swooped out of my life as quickly as he swooped in.

She told me to forget about Corbin. That there was nothing to tell, because he was the asshole that walked away.

The asshole who didn’t even know my name.

“Let me.”

If Jacob’s voice wasn’t enough to pull me out of my head, his fingertips skating across my arms, palms resting on my shoulders washed away all else. Every doubt.

He was here.

I was here.

That was what separated everything that came before from everything I was blessed with now.

I breathed in the steam, the smell of cloves and cinnamon and vanilla. The silky smooth fibers that brushed my skin as Jacob caressed me with the loofah. His fingers traced his descent, down my spine. Over the curve of my ass before the loofah was forgotten altogether and he gripped my hips with both hands.

Jacob had gripped me more times than I could remember. In passion. Trembling, like he was struggling to hold it together. With love, like he just wanted to commit the feel of me to memory.

Now, it was different. He held me like he wanted to remind me that he wasn’t going anywhere. Like he wanted to remind me that I was his, and he was mine...period.

I brought my hands to cover his, my heart one ‘I love you’ from flying right out of my chest.

He roped an arm around me, pulling me to him. Letting me feel the hardness of his body. The sincerity in his voice.

“I’m sorry, baby. I just-”

I whirled around to face him, throwing my arms around his neck. Pulled his mouth to mine. Let our lips say the words that our heart screamed.

I’m sorry.

I screwed up.

I love you.

I’m not going anywhere.

I was the first to pull away, the last phrase hot on my tongue. Radiating in my heart.

If we could survive all the curveballs fate threw our way, we’d survive a blast from my past. And the longer I kept my lips shut, the more I fed this non-issue. I really had no other choice: I could tell him about Corbin and explain that he was my past and Jacob and Hope were my future...or I could wait until something popped up online and pretend like it slipped my mind.

But I was done pretending.

Pretending was what I was doing before. Pretending that the late nights and barely seeing each other and the business trips didn’t bother me. That the stretch marks didn’t bother me. That I wasn’t tired all the time, that I was some sort of superwoman who didn’t need anything or anyone and could juggle it all on my own.

But I needed Jacob.

Needed him in a way that told me that there would be, could be no one else.

Telling him about Corbin would be painful...then we’d figure it out and take the world on, together.

I took a step back, the water spilling over my shoulders as I gazed into the blue abyss.

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