Page 145 of Burned & Bound

“For where?” Jackson asked, and my smile widened. This was the only part of the day that I had a solid plan for.

“I’m taking you on a date, cowboy.”

CHAPTER 100

jackson

West was something else.He laughed, he smiled, he cracked jokes. When it was just us, he was relaxed and open. Even with the restaurant staff, he wasn’t anxious or put out. He was more reserved, but it passed when they left. All of it was a bittersweet reminder of everything that had been taken from him. It was also an impressive testament to what he’d been able to achieve. I was so fucking proud of him, and I’d never find the words to express that.

“It’s not much,” West was saying as he fished out the keys to his apartment.His apartment.He’d come a long way from sleeping in my stables.

“Don’t diminish it,” I said. “It’s yours, and that’s a big deal.”

“Yeah.” He nodded slowly. His nervousness was kind of adorable, but I understood it. I knew just how big this moment was for him. “Okay.”

He opened the door, and I followed him inside. The apartment was small and simple with gray walls, plush furniture, and soft lighting. There were sketches pinned to the walls everywhere—horses, plants, cows, and more. A yellow knit blanket was tossed over a chair along with an array of black and gray ones. There were a lot of fucking blankets. A little coffeetable was covered in sketch pads and used pencils. Through their open doors, I could tell the bedroom and the bathroom matched the yellow, black, and gray aesthetic.

“You kept it.” I nodded to the horseshoe hanging on the support beam between the kitchen and the living room.

“I told you I would,” West replied. He stood in the middle of the living room with his hands in his pockets, watching my every move as if trying to figure out what I was thinking.

“I like it, West,” I told him. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

He drew in a deep breath, his head bobbing slightly as he didn’t say a word. I could see the wheels turning in his head and decided to wait him out. Whatever he wanted to say, he’d say it when he was ready.Funny how some things never changed.

“I want to say I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“You don’t have to say—”

“I do, though,” he interrupted. “I do need to. I know I apologized in my letter, but I need to say it out loud. I’m sorry I wasn’t there after you got hurt. I should’ve been, or I should’ve said something to you sooner about where I went.”

“You never have to apologize for taking care of yourself, West,” I assured him. I was over my anger at him about walking out. It was clear that he needed this so much more than how I’d wanted him there with me. “I get it, and I see what you’ve done for yourself. You don’t have to apologize for that.”

“And there’s something I should’ve said sooner.” He took a step closer. “You know, I suck at this whole feelings thing. I didn’t have the best examples in my life of good relationships, and I just…”

He swallowed hard, and I realized what he was trying to say.But the thing was, I didn’t need him to say it.Knowing how West felt wasn’t hard once I understood the way he expressed himself. It was in all the little things he did—the little ways he cared for me. Those things mattered too.

“I know,” I said to help alleviate the stress. “You don’t have to say a thing West.”

“No, I do,” he insisted and took one more step toward me. “I love you, Jackson. I loved you growing up, I loved you long after I left, and I still love you. I’ll always love you.”

I knew it—I had known it for a while—but hearing him say the words still made me smile. Two more steps and his hands were on my face as he kissed me.Confident and emotional.Every nerve in my body reacted instantly, coming to life in a way only West could manage to coax out of me.

His tongue brushed along the seam of my lips. I tilted my head slightly as I opened to him and kissed him deeper. My fingers curled into his hair while his traveled down my back, sending a shiver down my spine.God, I’d fucking missed this. I missed him.

“Drop the cane, cowboy,” West whispered against my mouth. His arm wrapped around my waist, anchoring there and supporting my weight. “I’ve got you.”

How the hell was I supposed to argue with that?I set my cane aside and leaned into him as he walked backward toward the bedroom. There was no frenzy. Everything he did was meticulous as he mindfully moved with me—dragging my sweater over my head and working with me to peel off his dress shirt while still holding up my weight.

But Jesus fuck, how unattractive was it watching me ease into bed because my fucking hip and leg didn’t work the way they should.And yet, West was undeterred. The look of want and need on his face made my heart pound with anticipation. He was so fucking sure of himself—of us. It was a wild change in him.

Without his shirt on, it was clear he’d started working out. His shoulders were broader and his muscles more defined. But what caught my attention was the new tattoo over his heart.A cowboy hat and a horseshoe.

“Is that a…”

“Did I brand myself with a tattoo for you?” West asked. “Yeah, I did.”

“Jesus Christ, West,” I muttered. I felt how my cheeks heated up at his words.Jesus fuck this man had me blushing. “That’s one way to put it.”

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