Page 22 of Pieces of Halves

“As slow as needed.” He tucks some hair behind my ear and holds my head.

I thump my forehead against his chest.

“God, I want to kiss you,” I mumble the words that were supposed to stay inside my head.

“Why don’t you?” He chuckles.

Well, since I already embarrassed myself plenty, I might as well keep going. “Because I feel like I always need youraffection. I feel needy and I am afraid that you will find it off-putting,” I tell him, and wait for my shame to drown me.

He pulls away and finds my eyes. “I don’t find it off-putting, and you are not needy. I just try to give you space to heal. I like you around me, and I like it when you make the move to be near.” His voice is low and hoarse.

His eyes hood over, and next thing I know, his lips are on mine. Soft and slow. My eyes shut from the surge of emotions, and I press my palms against his chest. His hands land on my butt, laying over the fabric gently. The light contact sends jolts through my skin, making me crave more.

I lean into him, moving my lips against his. Nothing exists but him and his touch. His hands move higher up my back, always delicately, almost hovering. Aching for more, I arch my chest into his and deepen the kiss. Wildfire burns in my soul, and it is out of control. A groan leaves his lips, and breathlessly, he pulls away.

“Izzy,” he huffs. “Slowly,” he reminds me and presses his lips against mine one more time before pulling away.

He wants me for more than just my body, and I am not needy.My tummy fluttering and my core throbbing, I smile up at him like a fool.

The best places to find information are at bars – that’s where men like to talk – and markets – that’s where women like to talk. I learned that from Jacob on our travels to this little town calledYellow Jacket. Because Jacob has me with him, the market seems to be a more reasonable place; a young couple passing through doesn’t place too much suspicion.

The place is not terribly large, but it is busy. Tables with small tents are set up on the dusty ground with merchants chatting away. It’s exciting to be around people again. Smiling, I peer at what everyone is selling. Most are here with fruits and vegetables from their gardens, filling the area with an array of colors.

“Oh, look!” Beautiful, plump peaches catch my attention.

Wanting to get a closer look, I step towards the stand. Jacob slides his hand around my waist, pressing me snug against himself as he walks in the direction of the fruits. Like always, his proximity is comforting, making my heart skip a beat.

“These look so juicy,” I comment as I pick one up.

“Oh!” A woman pops from the inside of the tent. “Only the best from my orchard!” She eyes us with a wide smile.

“Do you want some?” Jacob leans in to ask me.

“I do.” I eye the fruits. It’s been a while since I had something so fresh. “Can I have that one too?” I point to a big one with a large, red sunspot on it.

“Of course.” The woman chuckles.

Jacob laughs with her and leans over the tray to pick a peach closest to the woman. I pinch my brows, finding the action strange.

“I’m looking for someone who would know Sofia, a Vampire hunter,” Jacob quietly says to the woman, his voice casual and light.

My eyes almost pop out of their sockets. How can he just say something like this to people? I look around us frantically, praying no one heard him and hoping that she does not cause a scene.

“Why?” the woman looks up, her eyes narrowed. “You know she’s trouble.” She turns her gaze to me.

“So I hear. I have no interest in joining her. She has something I need.” Jacob picks up a peach as if they are talking about the weather.

“Look for Caleb. He usually knows of animals like her.” Her face contorts with disgust.

I gasp silently and watch Jacob’s reaction. His jaw twitched at the name given to his mother. She may be an awful person, but she is his mother. He has never met her, but I’m sure he has hopes for something good. My heart breaks for him. He deserves better.

Moving close to him, I slide my hand through his fingers and give it a light squeeze. It isn’t much, but I want him to know that I am here for him.

“Thank you,” he responds. “Do you want some plums too?” He turns his attention to me.

Startled by the casual question, I look up at him. His gaze is so soft that I almost melt into him. With the tenderness though, I do not miss the sadness in his eyes. He is hiding his pain well.

“Yes, please.” I turn to the woman.

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