Page 84 of Into the Dark

“You know, I could say the same about your Bond villain…” I retort, stepping back to fix him with a glare.

“You’ve nothing to worry about there. But fuck. Jealous, angry Alex is definitely a turn-on.” He squeezes my butt softly. It feels tender and a little sore.

“But I wasn’t jealous.”

“Course you weren’t. Far too classy for that.”

“Ahh, finally. Something accurate at last.”

“Nah, I was being accurate about choking the French prick too. Trust me.”

“Well, fortunately for him,” I sigh, “I don’t think he’ll be calling again.”

“So he’s not a complete fucking idiot then.” He leans in to kiss me deeply, and I wrap my arms around his neck as I melt into the heat of his mouth.

When Jake pulls back I gasp. Kevin is standing by the door to his office, that ever-present smirk on his face. How long has he been there? Surely he didn’t…

“Sorry, mate. I knocked, but you didn’t hear me,” he explains, still smirking. “Katya’s gone. Showed her around—she seemed impressed. Well, least I think she did. Hard to tell with her, you know.”

Jake makes a gesture that I can’t make out from my position behind him, but which causes Kevin to nod. “I’m gonna call it a night, Kev,” he says before turning back to me. “You wanna stay at mine tonight?”

“I can’t. Fred.” I came straight here from the surgery, so he hasn’t had his tea.

He nods. “Okay, then I guess I’ll come home with you. You drive here?”

When I nod, Jake says to go and that he won’t be far behind. He’s a little more reserved in front of Kevin, I suppose, but he still kisses me deep on the lips and tells me to drive safe.

I’m so tired I barely remember the drive home. Leaving the door open for Jake, I immediately go to the kitchen to put some food out for Fred, who must be out but whose bowl is polished clean. Poor hungry baby.

I’m too tired for my dinner; I just need to sleep. My body feels achy and tender and used, and though I’ve never minded those kinds of aches, last night’s poor sleep and the hectic day is starting to catch up with me.

I’m brushing my teeth when I hear the front door close and then the sound of him climbing the stairs. I’m coming back through to the bedroom when he appears. He leans casually on the doorframe watching me pull my vest top over my head.

“Did you lock the front door?” I ask.

“I did.” He nods.

I’m pulling my vest down over my body when I realize my arm is in the wrong whole. Then, as I try to pull it off again, I get stuck completely. I sigh impatiently and finally hear him move from his spot by the door.

“Here, let me help you.” He pulls the top above my head and holds it so I can feed my arms back through properly this time. As he pulls it down over my head his eyes meet mine again, and something passes between us—something silent and unspoken. Something that says we’re closer than we’ve ever been. Tonight, I gave myself to him in a way I’ve never given myself to any man before, and I feel that closeness now like a living, breathing thing between us.

“I want you to meet Cale tomorrow,” he says unexpectedly.

I nod. “I’d like that.”

He smiles and leans in to kiss me before wandering through to my en suite and leaving me alone with my nerves. How can I be afraid of a child? But then I rub my hand across my stomach and think being scared of a child isn’t quite as ridiculous as all that.

I leave Jake fast asleep and get up early to go for a run. I have no idea where the energy came from, but my eyes popped open at 6:30 a.m. and wouldn’t close again no matter how hard I willed them to. I slept well, probably because of the fitful night before and the fact Jake was curled protectively into my side, and so I lay there in the dawn light of the bedroom playing over all the possible scenarios that may or may not occur with Caleb later on today. Finally, I conceded to wakefulness and pushed the covers off and slipped out of bed.

I run the two and a half miles to the very boundary of the village and then back, and when I check my watch as I reach the village roundabout I’m delighted to see that I did it in just under an hour. I’m still the color of beetroot when I stop by Ken’s to get some croissants, but having not run at all for weeks it’s an achievement.

Ken makes small talk with some jovial village gossip before almost acrobatically rerouting to the topic of my “new man.” He seems genuinely enamored by Jake, calling him a “nice lad” with an impeccable taste in football teams. With a promise to pass on his compliments I run much more calmly back home, the croissants soft, warm, and fragrant under my arm.

I brew some coffee and practically bound upstairs to see if Jake’s awake yet. Perhaps I should have him fuck me in the arse more often—it certainly seems to do wonders for my energy levels. I push open the bedroom door gently, not wanting to startle him if he is still asleep—which he appears to be. His hand rests flat on his chest, his head turned toward me, eyes firmly closed and breathing deep and soft. I don’t want to wake him. In fact, I want to climb back in next to him and kiss him from head to toe, but I doubt he’d want me near him smelling like this. Instead, I perch on the edge of the bed and lean down to kiss him lightly on the mouth, smoothing his hair back away from his eyes. It’s longer than I’ve ever seen it, and with the full beard he looks very different from the Jake I met all those months ago. A more mature, more serious Jake. A Jake who’s carrying weighty, life-changing things around with him.

Lifting my head back up I study him closely. He’s so ridiculously handsome sometimes it looks like he might be carved from marble. His features are strong and well-laid-out, his mouth a particular crowning glory.

Christ, I love having him here when I wake up. I love going to sleep and waking up with him. Which is why I asked him to move in here. He needs a room for Caleb. That means I need today to be okay so we can have exactly that. Caleb’s room.

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