Page 133 of Their Greatest Strength

She pushes forward. “Mom left three years later. And honestly, it’s a miracle she stayed that long. Without Dad’s job, she pulled in some money here and there while I got a job anyplace that would hire a fifteen-year-old and tried to make up for what was lacking. When she left, things just got worse. I couldn’t keep up with the bills she left behind, and, well, you know what happened next.”

“You did the best you could. Tell me you know that.”

“Did I though, Jamie? Because I went days without eating more than stale crackers, peanut butter, and whatever scraps were left after I made sure Nate was fed. I let the bills lap over for months at a time and spent so much time working that I missed out on moments with Nate that I can’t ever get back. Not to mention that we were a few weeks away from being kicked out of our apartment and out on the street. For God’s sake, you paid Nate’s football fees, got him new gear, took care of the piles of overdue bills, and welcomed us into your home. If you hadn’t done that . . .”

I shake my head, leaning my cheek to her temple. “Don’t paint me out to be some kind of hero because of that. I wasn’t a guy on the street looking for a family in need of saving. You agreed to be my wife, baby, and all of those bills and fees I paid were part of our agreement. It wasn’t an easy decision or sacrifice for you to make letting me do that for you, but you did it anyway. Just like you made every other thousand sacrifices over the last eight years. It was you and you alone that kept your family in the place it is now,” I declare, needing her to hear me. “Nate is beyond lucky to have you in his life. We both are.”

She leans back in my arms and stares down at me, her fingers travelling along the edge of my jaw. It’s like she’s discovering who I am for the first time all over again with every stroke along my brow or down my nose. I let her touch me without speaking another word, giving her full control here.

“You have no idea how happy I am that it was your house I wandered into,” she whispers, tracing the shape of my lips.

“Yeah, Bandit, I think I do.”

“It’s not just this place that feels safe to me, Jamie,” she breathes out.

Gently, I hold her cheek and guide her close, our noses brushing. “It isn’t?”

“No.”

“So tell me what does,” I murmur.

“It’s not a what but a who.”

She drifts her hand down to my chest and softly pushes me until I lie on my back. I look up at her as she curls her fingers into the comforter beside my head and hovers close, still too far away.

“You’re my safe place, Jamie. It doesn’t matter where I am. If you’re there, I know nothing bad can happen to me. To us. I trust you to protect not only me but my brother. I’ve never trusted anyone but myself with Nate before.”

My chest tightens, my heart thrashing in encouragement. I take her cheeks in my hands and stroke my thumbs across her pink-tinted skin. When I bring her close enough for her hair to create a curtain over both of our faces, it’s easy to say my next words.

“I love you, Bandit. Loved you from the moment you called me Pretty Boy and left me that chicken pot pie in the fridge. I’llalwaystake care of you.”

She bites down on her lip to stifle the raw noise clawing up her throat. I ghost a kiss over her mouth, and she releases her lip, pressing both firmly against mine.

Her hands find my stomach as she pushes up and snares my eyes, refusing to let them go. “Show me, Jamie.”

“Are you sure?”

“So sure,” she whispers.

I smooth my hands down her body and cradle her waist. “There won’t be any going back.”

“Are you trying to scare me away?”

“It’s a little too late for that, isn’t it?”

She smiles softly, moving her finger in an S down my stomach before starting to make the same movement between each set of abdominal muscles.

“Yeah, husband. It is.”

39

BLAKELY

I love you too,Jamie.

It should be easy to say the words back, yet my tongue won’t form them. The feelings are there, so obnoxiously obvious that I’ve drawn the conclusion that there’s just something wrong with me.

I’m ready to hand myself over to him completely, yet his declaration goes unreciprocated. If he were a lesser man, he’d have grown too offended to still look into my eyes with unguarded, piercing love, regardless of my inability to repeat the words.

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