Page 94 of Simply Yours

The breath caught in her throat. “Seriously?”

He gave her an incredulous look. “If you’re not in the mood, I’m sure as heck not going to push myself on you,” he retorted, looking almost offended by the idea. “I’d much rather you want to be there. Participate. Enjoy yourself.”

Something warm and unsteady bloomed in her chest. “Thank you.”

Jason’s lips twitched, and just like that, the moment shifted. The intensity softened into something playful as he leaned in, his voice dropping into a low, teasing whisper. “And now that I’m your husband, I get to look and touch.” His eyebrows waggled, and his grin was all boyish mischief.

Caitlin groaned, laughing despite herself. “Oh gosh…” she muttered, shaking her head as he carried her deeper into the house.

Jason paused just long enough to kiss her—soft at first, testing, but then deeper, as if he needed her to understand something that words couldn’t quite capture. And despite herself, despite everything, she melted into it. Her arms curled around his shoulders, pulling him closer, and for the first time in a long time, she let herself sink into the warmth of being wanted.

Jason shivered against her as if he was feeling it too. But then, slowly, he pulled back, putting a little space between them. His expression softened, tinged with something like regret.

“You need to rest,” he murmured. His fingers traced a slow, absentminded path down her arm before he stepped away completely. “I moved the bed upstairs after the last visit. Painted the bedroom, too.” His eyes searched hers. “Do you think you’re feeling up to taking the stairs, or do you want some help? Let’s tuck you in.”

Caitlin hesitated, then nodded. “Will you get my bag from the truck?”

“Of course, Catnip.” He ran a hand through his hair and gave her a look so filled with quiet devotion that her throat tightened. “I’ll always be here for you. Just say the word.”

She watched him as he moved, watched the easy confidence in his stride, the way he navigated the world with such steady assurance. And for the first time, it really hit her—not just the fact that she was married to the boy she’d once loved, but that he had grown into an incredible man.

A man who loved her in ways she never imagined.

A man who saw her, even now, even after everything.

She was still standing there when he came back inside, bag in hand, his expression flickering with mild concern. “Do you want some help?”

The worry in his voice undid her. It was everything—his protectiveness, his tenderness, the way he treated her like she was precious but not fragile. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and shook her head.

“Can we have some hot tea?” she asked instead.

Jason blinked, then smacked his forehead. “Oh shoot—of course.” Without hesitation, he dropped her bag and gestured toward the couch. “You stay here. I’ll make some tea. Maybe a little something for you to eat. You rest.”

Caitlin exhaled and something tight and unspoken easing in her chest. She settled onto the small sofa, watching as he moved toward the kitchen. The warmth of the moment settled over her like a soft blanket.

As she sat in the dimly lit room, the soft sounds of Jason moving around in the kitchen filled the quiet. The gentle clink of dishes, the rush of water filling the kettle, and the low hum of his voice as he worked stirred something deep inside her—something small, fragile, and almost terrifying in its tenderness. A thought that sent a shiver down her spine, not from fear, but from something far more consuming.

Slowly, Caitlin rose to her feet, her movements unhurried, almost reverent. She drifted toward the windows, her fingers brushing over the cool fabric of the shades as she lowered them one by one, shutting out the outside world. A sense of quiet intimacy settled over her, warm and thick like honey, wrapping around her shoulders and sinking deep into her bones.

And then she paused.

Turning just slightly, she glanced over her shoulder toward the kitchen doorway, a soft smile curving her lips. She couldn’t see him yet, but she could hear him—the steady rhythm of his movements, the unconscious hum of a tune she didn’t recognize but knew she’d never forget. He was making something for her, taking care of her in the way he always did, as if she were something precious. As if she mattered more than anything else.

That thought alone was enough to make her heart ache in the best possible way.

She let out a quiet breath, then reached for the hem of her shirt, slipping it over her head with deliberate slowness. The rest of her clothes followed, each piece landing in a careless heap on the nearby chair. She tried not to look at her foot, the deep bruising that lingered from what had happened, putting that horrible moment and the ones that followed behind her.

It was time for happiness, joy, and love. With nothing but the warmth of anticipation, she sank onto the couch, extending her legs in front of her as she waited, a sense of peace and excitement tangling together in a way that made her pulse flutter.

She didn’t have to wait long.

“Catnip, here’s your?—”

Jason’s voice cut off abruptly as he stepped into the doorway, the teacup balanced in one hand, the saucer in the other. He froze mid-step, his dark eyes widening to the size of saucers as he took her in—every inch of her, bathed in the soft glow of the lamplight. The saucer slipped from his fingers, hitting the floor with a loud clatter.

Caitlin bit her lip, holding back a laugh as his expression shifted from complete and utter shock to something darker, something molten.

“Um… hi,” he said, his voice rougher than before.

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