Page 37 of Choosing My Happiness
It felt right being in his arms like this. There was no agenda to him holding me, other than comfort. Jim was comfort, strength…someone who would never let me down. My tears slowly faded, and he allowed me to lean on his body until I was steady on my feet, but he didn’t let me go. His arms stayed loose around my waist.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
I nodded and took a deep breath. “Thank you,” I replied. I felt drained and unsteady. Jim leaned down and brushed his lips across my forehead before propping me against my own counter and walking into my kitchen.
“Where are your plates? We better eat this chicken before it gets any colder. And you look like you need a strong drink. Unfortunately, this is all I’ve got.” He opened a few cupboards and found the things he needed without my help. I leaned on the counter and watched him work.
He could reach everything from the one spot he stood in. He just needed to turn or step out of the way of the drawer. I could feel my stress dissipating as I watched him. His movements were methodical and efficient. There was no wasted energy. It was almost meditative. I let myself sink into the feeling. He alwaysdid this. Every time I was around him, he brought peace to me. I could feel him pouring strength back into me unintentionally.
He glanced up at me as he was just about to pour soda into the glasses. He paused.
“You’re back, looking more like the fairy queen that I know and love,” he said, letting his eyes look me up and down. It sent a tingle down my spine. Suddenly, the atmosphere didn’t feel peaceful anymore.
“Fairy queen?” I croaked out from a mouth that had suddenly dried up.
“Yep,” he said, topping off the glasses, then handing me one. “You’re little and petite like a fairy, but you’re also badass like a queen. You’re not a precious princess who needs a white knight to save them. You’re going to save yourself.”
He brought over a plate and put it down in front of me. “Although you might forget to look after yourself, and need a manservant or something to help you keep up your strength.”
His voice went lower. “It’ll be an honor to serve you.”
His grey eyes had darkened, drawing me into their stormy depths. I felt myself reach up and grab his neck to draw his face down. His breath fanned my cheek as I lifted my mouth and kissed him, softly at first. His lips felt warm.
I opened my lips and felt his tongue tentatively touch mine. No, it wasn’t tentative. It was intentionally gentle, teasing, and inviting. I felt myself shudder with desire. He gripped my hips, pulling me into his hard body, and he kissed me harder. I kissed him back like I couldn’t get enough. I could feel him pressing a hard cock against me. The world disappeared, and all I could sense was him surrounding me. All I could taste was him. All I wanted wasJim.
Jim pulled away, breathing heavily.
“Are you sure about this?” he growled. I stared at him, my mouth watering, my nerves tingling, feeling like sparks werepinging off my skin. “I can wait until you’re divorced, Daisy. I will wait for you forever if I need to.”
I closed my eyes. The divorce…I was still an ol’lady. But not inside these walls. No one would see, and no one would complain. Here was just us. My brain connected into place, agreeing with my heart.
“I need you, Jim,” I told him. “I need you right now.” I still had my hands around his neck, so I had to lean back to look into his eyes. “You’re well and truly worth waiting for,” I told him, then I kissed him again. “But I’ve waited long enough.”
24
Chapter 24: Blaze
Bull and Janie were in the office at the hospital, talking with someone about the next step for Matchstick, while I sat in one of the plastic chairs outside the office. It was surreal. I don’t know why, but I had the feeling I needed to talk to Matchstick last night. Then I couldn’t get away. The old man had a death grip on my hand. But it wasn’t just that. Something made me stay. Molly left at the end of visitor hours, but I didn’t want to. The nurses didn’t give me trouble about it. They just handed me a blanket to put over my shoulders.
The night was eerie. Somewhere, machines were whirring and beeping, and Matchstick’s breathing slowed down. There were times when he stopped breathing for a minute and then he would take in a big gasp. I just sat there, waiting.
I spent the time thinking and talking with Matchstick. Really talking, and telling him my innermost thoughts, mostly aboutDaisy. I still don’t know why she’d rejected me. This was the lifestyle that Matchstick introduced me to. He was her father, so she knew what she was getting into. I know Dad didn’t live it like this, but that was his choice. It had become the choice of many of the brothers. There were a lot less of us going out at night lately. Most of the brothers preferred their ol’ladies, even if the kids hadn’t arrived yet. It was annoying.
Even more annoying was the way the boys talked about it. They encouraged each other to stay home once they’d found their woman, but the way they did it was the most annoying thing. Don’t make your girl do a Daisy; I don’t want my girl to do a Daisy; I’m not risking this woman–don’t need her doing a Daisy just cause I screwed up.
I sighed.
I did screw up, obviously. Somehow I had become the butt of the club jokes. But I was just following club traditions. I guess most of those have died out now, though. We still had the club meetings, the rides out, the support for other clubs, and the other stuff that no one talked about. But the fun stuff, the girls, that all died. Some of the stories Matchstick told were wild. It would have been amazing to grow up in the club he did.
Molly finally bustled into the hospital. I’d called her a few times during the night, and then when it happened. But she hadn’t picked up.
“Oh, hi Blaze, how are you? You never would have guessed what prank some kids tried to play on me. Someone rang and told me Matchstick had died during the night. Isn’t that horrible? Anyway, how was he last night?” She paused in her delusion and frowned. “Why are you out here? Who’s in with him?”
I sighed and stood up. My heart sank as I looked at my mother-in-law. She was dripping with jewelry as usual: bracelets, rings on every finger, and earrings pulling her lobeslong. Her loyalty to her husband was evident in each piece. I reached down, grabbed her shoulders and sighed.
“I’m sorry Mol, it wasn’t a prank.”
Her hand lifted to her mouth, shaking.
