Page 91 of Love By a Landslide

“No.”

“Enlighten me, then.” Lucy took another step away to sit on the end of the bed and Jonathan’s arms fell to his side. A few lingering drops of water fell from his wet hair and meandered a delectable path over his chest then down his solid abs until it absorbed into the top of the towel draped low around his hips. She licked her lips and imagined tracing the wet trail with her tongue.

Focus.

They had to hash this out.

“Losing my wife left me . . .” He paused, raising his hands, looking around as though the words he searched for could be found among the bar cart or rumpled clothes on the floor. “Broken. After my initial grief subsided, the guilt stuck around. It caged around me like some invisible bubble that I felt but no one else could see. Eventually, I functioned well enough that people quit worrying about me.” He shook his head. “Or at least they assumed I was good enough to stop bugging me about it.”

Lucy pulled the towel from her head. Jonathan followed the movements, eyeing her damp hair as it fell around her shoulders.The prickle of his gaze threatened to distract her again, but she squared her shoulders, wielding resolve she wasn’t convinced she had.

“But I was damaged, Lucy. A complete mess yet too stubborn and delusional to acknowledge it. Then you fell into the river and—” His words halted as his Adam’s apple bobbed on a heavy swallow. He cleared his throat. “I shouldered the blame for that too.”

“But that was an accident,” she blurted.

Jonathan held up a hand to prevent the unnecessary argument. “I know that now.” The left corner of his mouth pulled up and his eyes lightened. “My sister convinced me to start seeing a counselor. You could say she dragged me kicking and screaming, if you want, but it didn’t take much convincing. I knew I needed help.”

Tears stung her eyes and threatened to topple over the edge of her lashes. But she swallowed back the emotion. “And you’re what? All better now?”

“Not by a long shot, but I am on the right path. And I’m going to keep working on myself so I can be someone that deserves you.”

Lucy rose to her feet and closed the distance between them. She wrapped her arms around his waist and he plunged one hand into her hair while the other engulfed her middle. Jonathan pulled in a broken breath and she squeezed him tighter.

“I’m glad you figured it the fuck out, finally.”

His chest rumbled under her cheek as he released a sultry laugh. “Me too, sunshine.”

“What convinced you to come here?” She pulled back to look up at him.

Jonathan grinned. “That’d be my bratty sister yet again. She called me a chicken. Said I had a beak and feathers.”

Lucy let out a bubble of laughter. “Remind me to send her a fruit basket.”

“Can you forgive me?” His voice took on a sandpaper tone, rough with anguish. “I don’t deserve it, not after how I left things in June. But I hope you can. I’ll do anything.”

Running her fingers over his thick beard, she caught glimpses of sparkles embedded between the hairs. This man was something else. She’d never met anyone so caring and loyal. He was beautiful, inside and out.

“Of course I forgive you. I understand where your heart was. You thought you were protecting me. You were wrong, but your intent was noble. I only ask two things.”

“Anything.”

“Keep going to your counselor and never, ever make my decisions for me again. Got it?”

“Never again.” His lips split wide in a grin then lowered to dance a kiss across hers.

Lucy pulled back and glanced over her shoulder at the rumpled hotel bed. She cringed at the green and teal smudges marring the crisp white sheets. Jonathan nipped the crook of her neck.

She let out a low whistle. “We sure made a mess, didn’t we?”

A chuckle rumbled where his lips trailed along her shoulder. “Mm-hm,” he affirmed then tugged at her towel so it fell in a heap at her feet. He slid his strong hands to her hips and dug his fingertips into her skin, backing her up toward the foot of the bed. She melted at his touch, helplessly obeying his silent direction. “They can send me a bill.” A thrumming began to build in her belly for the third time that night. She chuckled when she spotted a splotch of emerald still stuck toward the back of his jawbone. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re going to be finding glitter and paintfor weeks.”

Lucy let out a shriek as Jonathan lifted her up and heaved her onto the messy California king. He slowly crawled over top of her. She buried her fingers into his hair, which was finally clean of whatever had been spackled in to retain its shape for his performance. As soon as he planted a sweltering kiss on her lips, he retreated back down, prowling her curves with his lips, teeth, and palms. “Then let’s make sure you keep finding some on you too,” he hummed against her thigh as he settled between her legs.

Jonathan’s tongue flicked against her. She gasped and writhed and allowed him to sweep her away in a landslide of pleasure and ecstasy.

Epilogue

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