Page 104 of Eight Years Gone

She nodded again.

He opened the door wider. “Are you still planning to shower?”

“Yes.”

He sighed as he stepped into the glass partition, turning on the water. Then he pulled her sweater up and off, making her already-chilly body shiver before he made quick work of ridding her of her bra, jeans, and panties. “Warm up, Grace.”

She stepped under the spray, closing her eyes as the blessed warmth rained over her shoulders.

Seconds later, Jagger joined her. “Come here,” he murmured, pulling her against him.

She wrapped her arms around him, settling her head on his chest as the water continued its cascade.

“It’s okay,” he said next to her ear.

She shook her head. “It’s not.”

“Everything’s as okay as it can be at this moment. And that’s all we’ve got.”

She stared at the steam fogging up the glass. “I’m greedy. I want more than that.”

He opened the box of soap, rubbing the small bar along her back and shoulders. “He’s in great hands. He’s receiving the best care possible. We’re going to do all that we can to help him recover.”

She breathed in lavender as suds ran down her legs to the drain.

Jagger’s slippery palms moved to her hips and the sides of her waist. “When he sees that I’m back, he’ll be extra motivated to get better so he can chase my ass away from you.”

Her lips curved in a small smile. Only Jagger could make her smile at a time like this. “Or maybe he’ll finally realize he’s been wrong.”

“That’s never going to happen—or at least he’ll never admit it.”

She smiled again, looking at him now. “He has to know you’re good for me.”

“Probably not.” He kissed her nose as he moved to slide the bar over her breasts and stomach. “But he’ll learn to live with the fact that I’m not going anywhere this time.”

She stroked his cheek. “He’ll have to.”

Jagger reached for her hands, placing them against his chest, where his heart beat. “You’re warmer.”

She nodded. “Much. And cleaner too. Do you want me to wash your back?”

He shook his head as he began to wash himself. “I want you to let me take care of you tonight.”

“You are taking care of me, which I appreciate. I know you don’t want me to thank you—”

“You’re right.” He kissed her nose again. “I don’t.”

She nodded, hoping he could sense her gratitude regardless. “We can get out if you want.”

He winced. “We could, but your face is a mess—mascara trails.”

She huffed out a quiet laugh. “I have makeup wipes in my bag that will do a much better job than that soap.”

“That’s a good thing.” He wiped at her cheeks with wet fingers. “You’re rocking the goth look pretty hard, but you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

She grinned, hugging him, certain she couldn’t love him more. “See? You’re good for me.”

He squeezed her back. “Damn straight.”

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