Page 98 of Jett

“Yes, she does.”

“I’ll wake you before that happens. Stay,” he murmurs, his voice a low invitation. “Spend the rest of the night with me.”

I want to. He looks so calm, so undone, almost dazed. He’s relaxed in a way I rarely see, as though every defense is down. Not a trace of billionaire armor on him. “Won’t it be strange?”

“Why would it be?”

“Given everything we’ve done.”

He scoots over to my side of the bed and his hands move to my waist, fingertips pressing lightly as he tugs me closer. “I want to do more of it.”

Oh. Electricity dances along my back. I love that he wants more of it. So do I. I have dreamt about this. So why am I in such a rush to escape?

Because of who he is. His reputation.He’ll break my heart.

“Come back to bed.” He pats the empty space next to him, and I dutifully climb back in, and turn toward him as we both settle against the headboard. He gently smooths a strand of hair from my face. “I want to talk. There's so much I have yet to discover about you.”

I know the feeling. After years of pining for this man, we've reached the stage I could only dream about. I can’t believe that this is real. I already know a lot about him, but there's a lot more that he hides. I want to unearth him, dig deeper, reach his core.

“I want to talk, too, Jett.” It’s been a week since we landed here and time has flown. Looking back now, we’ve done so much, but three weeks was never going to be enough. I could happily have forever with Jett and Brooke. At least, that's how I feel now with last night still fresh in my head and heart.

“I want to know how you are. I want to know how you're feeling, how you’re dealing with things … after your mom. I want to know what else I can do for you.”

“Do?”

“To make your life easier.”

“I'm leaving soon, Jett.”

“Don't keep reminding me.”

He looks away, obviously not wanting to talk about that.

“I have good days and bad.”

He takes my hand in his. “I worry about you. I wanted you here because I thought it might help. It hasn’t been long since she passed.”

He wanted me here? “You said you didn't want me here. That I was the last person you needed to be here.”

“For good reason. I knew having you here would make things difficult, but it would also be a break for you, a chance to escape New York and the sad memories.

“It’s been …difficult. I miss my mom every day. Wish I could’ve done more.”

“You did more than most would,” he says quietly.

“Thanks to you.” He gave me so much time off, for all her medical appointments, her chemo sessions, and time to work from home when I needed to take care of her. Now that I look back on it all, I wonder if there was more to it than him just being a supportive boss.

My heart tugs painfully. “She was my best friend. A single mom, young and wild-hearted. It’s cruel that her life was cut short—not just for me, but for the future she could’ve had.”

“I hear you, Cari.” He lifts my hand and kisses it gently. “I’m so sorry that happened, to you and to your mom. The world is full of scheming, power-hungry bastards, and it seems that good people often get taken way before their time.”

We sit quietly, reflecting. I imagine he’s thinking of the loss of his wife. He looks away, and I see something deep in his expression. “I worry about Brooke. She’s forgotten her mom now. But she was just two years old when Sophia passed.”

He’s opening up to me and I feel so privileged. This is the second time he’s mentioned his wife. “I’m so sorry, Jett.”

His face twists in pain. “It was horrible. She had a brain aneurysm, and it was all so quick. She was in a coma for a week and then she was gone.”

“I heard.”

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