Page 70 of If Tomorrow Never Comes

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I sent him with a full bag. Am I getting any to take back with me?”

She just stared at him for a moment, blinking. Her shoulders fell. “No.”

He laughed, a warm, rich sound, and her eyes immediately zeroed in on the dimple just beside his smile. That damn dimple, plus those sparkling eyes ... This man could ruin her if she wasn’t careful.

That was if he hadn’t already. She stubbornly refused to even consider how deep her feelings went, preferring to pretend they weren’t there, like any other mature, emotionally stable adult.

Jamie stuffed the chew toys in his bag and stepped sideways, probably to grab the dog bed next to the armchair, but he stopped and just stood there for a minute. His back was to her, so she wasn’t sure what he was looking at. Was he noticing that the dog bed had obviously remained unused? When he brought it, he’d said she didn’t have to let Hank on her furniture, and if she told him no, he’d know to use the bed on the floor instead. But she’d liked having Hank’s warm body next to her, despite the hair he left behind.

Or was it the dessert book on her coffee table, the one she’d shown him but hadn’t given to him because at the time he’d been in a relationship?

The Nebraska Medicine appointment reminder beside it?

“Jamie . . . ?” she began.

He turned, lifting one hand to drift it across his chest, the movement seemingly absent-minded, like something he did when he was uncertain. “Do you want him to stay?”

“What?”

“Hank. You said your appointment’s on Tuesday ... Want to hang on to him until after you see your oncologist and get the results?” Behind his glasses, his eyes held a mixture of sincerity and worry, as if he thought maybe offering this to her was an overstep. “He’s obviously happy to be here, and maybe he could distract you for a few more days. If you want.”

Elliott stood rooted to the floor, unable to move despite the warmth radiating from the center of her body. Her heart seemed to slow even as her pulse fluttered, a lump forming in her throat.

When was the last time someone considered her like that? The last time someone other than her family thought about her with kindness and care and offered something for no reason other than to make her feel safe?

Jamie cleared his throat and gave her an uncertain smile. He leaned down to grip the bed in one hand and straightened. “Or you might want him out of your hair. Have your apartment to yourself again?” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I won’t tell him, I promise.”

She lurched forward and threw her arms around him. Didn’t let herself think too much about it and wonder how he might respond or what it meant. All she knew was he was being thoughtful and kind and sayingThank youjust didn’t feel like enough.

She’d obviously surprised him, because he didn’t react at first. Just stood there like a statue, unmoving and rigid.

Then the dog bed hit the carpet with a thump and his arms came up, curving around her waist and back. He was so much bigger than her, and the arm at her waist wrapped all the way around, his palm fanning out across her side, thumb reaching her rib cage. The other shifted up her back with a slight pressure, pulling her in. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

God, he smelled good.

She should have loosened her grip and stepped back but couldn’t seem to make her feet move. She stood there, flush against his body, waiting for who knows what. Her skin felt tight and hot, and her racing pulse had nothing to do with obscure worries about her health. This time, it was all Jamie.

As if someone else controlled her body, she shifted her head so her forehead pressed against his chest, and she just stood there, breathing him in, exhaling into the soft cotton stretched across his skin. Her fingers curled around his shoulders, gripping him tighter.

A shudder went through him, and his chest moved up and down as if he forced each drag of air into his lungs. He made no effort to moveeither, and by all accounts, it seemed they could stay here, entangled in the entryway of her apartment, forever.

Ever so slowly, his upper arm shifted, and his fingers slowly moved up, up, into her hair. An involuntary shiver shot down her spine as he delved his hand between the strands. Blood rushed in her ears, roaring in the silence, and her lungs seized on what very well could have been her last breath.

His head dipped low, warm breath brushing her earlobe.

She couldn’t—wouldn’t—move. Everything around her shifted and swirled, the ground dropping out from beneath her, threatening to take her down if it weren’t for his arms around her.

“I looked for you.”

His voice was a deep, low rasp. Her eyelids burned as the words settled beneath her skin and gathered in a chamber of her heart, the same place she’d stored every memory of him. His nose brushed the skin just at her hairline as he breathed out a sigh. “I’m so pissed at you,” he murmured into her neck, the first press of his lips there like a shock to her system. “If you’d given me your full name, your number, a fucking email ...something. Anything.”

A whimper left her throat, and she didn’t even have it in her to be embarrassed. Nothing mattered but his warm, hard body and the trail of his lips down the curve of her shoulder.

She’d dreaded hearing words like this, and yet ... they were like a balm to her soul. Like coming across the one thing she’d been searching her apartment for all month.

“I looked for you for weeks.Months.I couldn’t stop thinking about you. But you just disappeared and left me with nothing.” That final word came out on a harsh breath.

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