Page 31 of Fight for You
That someone was me.
And if I was being honest …
Jamie too.
Somewhere along the way, I’d forgiven him for not telling his parents. I forgave him without us even having to talk about it. That was a true testament because I know some people have to learn to forgive a person and they were dead and gone, or worse … that person wouldn’t offer the faintest apology, anyway. But I knew Jamie wanted his parents to save me.
Over the months, the alluring woman I assumed I had to be to stay in his good graces, his home, his life, had slowly faded. Then, I noticed that I traded seductive antics for attempting to be useful.
Cooking. Cleaning.
Cleaning the bathroom? Disaster. Jamie had a drill-sergeant voice when explaining toilet bowl etiquette. Since I was never in the military, I came to a compromise: he could shine all the toilets he wanted, and he stayed out of my kitchen. He wasn’t allowed to boil water. I didn’t let him lift a finger. I took care of it all.
I smiled at Rebel, then exhaled as the first orange sliver of sun bled across the ocean. My thoughts turned back to Jamie touching me—his gentle, reverent touches—they weren’t out of obligation. They were intentional. Slow. Meaningful. But it was like pinching yourself to confirm you weren’t dreaming. And that hard pinch came when he didn’t follow through with what my body craved.
“But I know this isn’t a dream …” I whispered. Rebel tilted her head, staring at me curiously.
I fell back into the sand with a groan. “I’m in love with a man who could never love me!”
My body went through the motions of a jerky toddler I’d seen in Wal-Mart while Jamie and I chose Christmas lights. Here I was, staring at the transitioning sky, stomping my feet and thrashing my hands at my sides in perpetual torture. Then I froze. The chill of sand against my back suddenly dropped below zero. Icy. Threatening. My body tensed as Rebel issued a low growl. A shadow passed in my periphery.
A man.
I scrambled to my feet, just as alert as the hairs on Rebel’s spine. She glanced at me, then glared at him, ready for a command. I looked up at the man, wide-eyed. Tall. Built like carved muscles from marble. His skin was smooth and brown, his eyes unreadable. What was worse? He didn’t seem concerned about the dog’s subdued snarl at my side.
Was he Bratva? One of Alek?—
“Are you okay?” he asked, an Arabic accent soft but firm.
I nearly collapsed with relief. Not a Russian Bratva enforcer.
“Yes. Just waiting for my husband.” I shook my hand through my hair. Tiny granules fell as I nodded toward our house. “There he is now.”
The man jogged off without a backward glance.Smart move.
Jamie ran onto the shore, shirtless and in basketball shorts. That body should’ve come with a warning. I turned away, but not before my heart did a stupidthump. Torture. Daily, friggen torture.
“You left the house.” His voice was low, but fire stoked in his eyes. “Jordyn, why would you just leave without telling me?”
“I—”
“And who was that?”
“I don’t know.”
“He could’ve been a scout. You exposed yourself out here, Jordyn. Alone.”
Dang, I preferred JorJor these days.
“How could you just sit out here by—” And then, his voice cracked. All the fury faded into fear. “JorJor, you showed them a weakness.”
“He saw me have a meltdown. He asked if I was okay. People do that, soldier.”
Jamie tugged me into his arms, and I melted. Just like that. A puddle in his arms. Weak within his clutch as whitecaps rolled toward us on the shore. I remembered my first day of freedom, allowing the ocean to push, shove, and tug, thinking that was the last time someone or something would move me. Could move me. But this man moved my heart every day. He brought my pulse to a frenzied crescendo more than any ecstasy I’d ever felt. He stirred something more dangerous than lust. In the five months that I’d gotten to know him, Jamie made me fall in love. Then he’d made my heartbeat stop dead in my chest because he didn’t want?—
Jamie’s calloused, large, trembling hands framed my face. “You’re fine,” he said, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than me.
The man didn’t realize what he was doing to me. He was reviving my heart and shattering it by not loving me the way I needed. But you owe him, Jordy. He saved you. And I loved him with all of me. So, what gives? I mumbled, “Let’s just go inside. Shower. Breakfast? I’m not in the mood to run today.”
