Page 31 of Chloe's Christmas Escape
“I didn’t have time to make...” she looked at him and smiled. “Kisses?”
“I can’t wait.”
“Let me get the table cleared.”
She jumped up and started grabbing the dishes. The biscuits she’d wrap in napkins to take on the journey. As she stood at the sink, warm hands circled her waist. She turned in his arms and looped her hands behind his neck.
The intensity in his gaze was overwhelming. He leaned forward, slowly closing the gap between them as he kept his eyes on hers. Her heart raced, and soon they were standing close enough that she felt his breath on her face. Neither of them could look away as their eyes locked in a passionate embrace.
She expected a kiss, not for him to bypass her lips and nibble on her neck before settling his mouth over hers. Butterflies swirled in her belly, and her fingers thread through the hair brushing his collar. He reluctantly pulled away from her, his body still pressed against hers. The sound of a knock at the front door echoed through the house.
“One day, there will be no interruptions and I’m going to kiss you until you cannot speak, let alone think,” he whispered in her ear, before lowering her slowly back to her toes. “We can resume this conversation when I get back.”
He disappeared from the kitchen, and Chloe gasped, trying to catch her breath. She was certain he was good at plenty of things, but kissing surely had to be at the top of the list. She smiled as she quickly washed the dishes, as she wanted to finish them before he returned.
“Chloe!” Jackson called, urgency thick in his tone. She raced quickly to the front room to find a sheriff standing just inside the door with his hat in his hand.
“What is it?”
Jackson passed a piece of paper to her, and she stared down, having to read the words several times before they made sense.
Situation resolved. Safe to come home. Mac.
“I could go home?” she whispered, looking from one man to the other.
Jackson nodded.
Chloe whirled around and sprinted down the hallway, her heart beating wildly. Sobbing, she stumbled into the bedroom, a swirl of conflicting emotions rushing through her veins. Grasping the edges of the quilt, she yanked it from the bed and rushed to the corner of the room. She crumpled in a heap, wrapped herself tightly in the fabric. A guttural sound escaped her lips as tears streamed down her cheeks, flooding the hardwood beneath her.
Did she want to go home?
No. That was clear.
But did he want her to go? They grew together in fits and spurts; she was just seeing him open up.
The memory of her panic attack at the judge’s office in Chicago came back to her. She lowered her head to her chest and pulled the blanket up, encasing herself in a cocoon. There was no reason for Jackson to remain married. He could just send her back home and be done with her.
“Chloe? Honey?” She heard his muffled footsteps through the quilt.
They stopped next to her and then she felt him slide down the wall to sit next to her. His hand slid under the blanket, tapping against the back of her leg, and Chloe unclenched her fingers, letting her hand drift down to tangle with his. “Please don’t send me away.”
Minutes passed in silence, and then she heard him take a deep breath. “Why would I do that? We’re married.” She nodded under the covers, wondering if he was looking at her or staring out into the bedroom. He squeezed her fingers as he continued speaking. “You know, we were so rushed, we didn’t really have a proper wedding. This might not be a bad thing.”
“How so?” Her words were dull as they carried from under the quilt.
“Well, maybe that was our problem. You were running away to safety. Getting married was the best thing for you. I hadn’t really thought about what having a wife meant beyond not being alone anymore, so getting married was really the best thing for me. But we didn’t do it correctly.”
Her fingers tightened on his, but she stayed mute, waiting for something.
“My friend Reuben is the minister in Sterling. If I explained our situation to him, I’m sure he would be happy to perform a service. Especially that close to Christmas. The legal parts are already done. This time it would be in a church, in front of God and surrounded by our family.”
Another sob escaped her.
“Honey, don’t cry.” He sighed in frustration as he tugged on the edges of the fabric, trying to loosen it enough for her to escape. Chloe had worked the fabric so tightly around herself that she didn’t know where the edges were. “How did you even do this?”
She felt him push from the ground with his arms beneath her. The next thing she knew, he was standing and lifting her high in the air, cradling her gently against his chest. His powerful arms supported her body, allowing her to feel safe.
Until she felt herself tumbling down onto the bed, the quilt still in his hand. He stood over her with a grin.
