Page 26 of Echoes in the Night

Laying my head against his chest, he wraps his arms around me, holding me tight as tears continue to fall. Safe. Here in his arms, I’m safe and wanted.

I don’t know how I know it’s true, but I do. My heart is jumping up and down screaming ‘he’s the one’. The one who makes me feel safe. Who makes me feel wanted. Who makes my heart beat stronger. He’s the one.

Slowly my eyes flicker open. I’m snuggled against a warm chest that smells like pine, a steady heartbeat thumps under my ear and a warmth slides gently up and down my back. I don’t remember dozing off.

I do remember being safe in Jax’s embrace.

“How long did I sleep?” I ask, sitting up.

He brushes the hair from my cheeks, his smile sincere, his eyes tender. “A while. You needed it.”

“I need to start dinner.”

“We’ll do it together and I’ll teach you how to use the propane stove as well as the wood burner.”

Reluctantly, I crawl off his lap, go to the bathroom and wash my face. When I walk out, he’s at the table studying the drawing. He closes it when he sees me. “I uploaded a picture of this drawing for Clay. This guy is a pro, he needs to be caught.”

I nod.

Next, he shows me how to use the gas stove and offers to help with dinner. Working in the kitchen with him is companionable.

“Did your grandparents cook together?” I ask.

“They did almost everything together. I remember Grams sitting in one chair knitting and Gramps in the other whittling. During the summers they’d sell their crafts to tourists in town.”

He pauses, glancing at me. “She was ten years older than him, a teacher. They met the year he took extra classes so he could get into the military early. When he came back from war, he found her living in another town and told her she’s the only woman he’d thought about since they met. Took him almost another year to convince her to marry him.

“He inherited seventy-five acres on this mountain. He used the year of waiting on her to build this cabin the way she wanted it. Her pregnancy with my dad was hard. They were never able to have more children. Truth, I was their second child in every sense of the word. They did most of the raising of me. Gramps left everything to me, not his son.

“People talked about their age gap.” He looks over at me. “They’re gonna talk even more about ours.”

“Let them talk. I don’t care. They’ve talked about me most of my life.”

“Maura…”

I turn toward him. “No. You don’t get to. You don’t get to try and tell me what’s good for me, or what I shouldn’t do. My whole life I’ve lived with that bullshit and I’m done.

“I know what I want. I know who I want. I love you, Jaxon Alexander. And you’re not getting rid of me. Now stir that pot before you ruin it.” I turn back to what I’m cooking.

My heart is racing, my hands shake. Please, please don’t let him change his mind. Broad, warm hands slide over my hips then splay over my abdomen urging me back against a hard body. His beard whispers over my neck before he kisses a trail from my shoulder to my ear.

“I am yours, Maura, till the day I die. Nothing will separate us unless you choose to leave me. Every day I will tell you how much I love you. How you are my world until you can finally trust that I will never lie to you. We both have baggage. But this, us, is real. You can relax, babe. I’ve got you.”

“Move the pot off the heat, Jax. I need you to make love to me. Now.”

“Stay right here.” He crosses to the stove, moves the pot to the propane stove and puts the cover on. Then lifts me in his strong arms and carries me to the bed. Sitting on the edge, he has me stand between his legs. “I want to unwrap you.”

Cupping my face between his palms, he kisses my forehead, then the side of one eye and the other. The tip of my nose. He sucks one earlobe then the next and trails kisses along my jaw until he reaches my lips.

Gently he presses his lips to mine, then feathers his tongue across the seam seeking entrance. He teases and taunts with his, then alternates kissing with sucking my lower lip and starts over.

Following my curves from thigh to hip with his work-worn hand, he drags the shirt I’m wearing higher and higher. “Raise your arms, babe.”

Tossing the garment aside, he pushes the sweatpants to the floor. Holding me at arm’s length and licking his lips, he runs his gaze slowly over my naked body. “You are so fucking beautiful. So perfect. I want to feast on you all night.”

My need is pulsing, crying out for his touch. “Please.”

Keeping one palm on my hip, he cups my breast in the other bringing the hardened nipple to his lips. He kisses my berry softly before suckling.

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