Page 111 of Eight Years Gone

“That’s right. And what about the night you let me touch you? I gave you your first orgasm right there on that mattress.”

He’d been patient for weeks, always taking things slow after their first kiss by her car. Then he’d opened up a whole new world to her when he’d slipped his hand into her panties—when he’d shown her what the gentle rub of his fingers could do to her sensitive skin. “That one’s hard to forget.”

“Damn straight. I can still hear those sexy little whimpers. I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”

She couldn’t help but grin as he did.

“There’s more, Grace.”

He moved them so they could look out the window to stare at the empty pool. “We swam there with our friends. Logan would cannonball right in front of your chair every chance he could get—pissed you off big-time.”

She closed her eyes as she huffed out a quiet laugh. “He could be such a jerk.”

He grinned again as he turned her to face him, hooking his fingers in the belt loops of her jeans, tugging her closer. “What about midnight ice cream sundaes and that time I put dish soap in the dishwasher.”

She full-out laughed when she remembered them frantically trying to clean up the mountains of soapsuds on the slippery kitchen floor.

“God, I love that sound.” Chuckling, he settled his forehead against hers. “There was so much good here, Grace. Please don’t forget the good stuff.”

She nodded. “Thank you for helping me remember.”

He let his hands slide up and down the sides of her waist. “This was my first real home. I found you here. I’ll never forget the first day you walked in and introduced yourself. You were sun-kissed and gorgeous in your tank top and ripped jean shorts. Christ, Grace, you took my breath away.”

How did he always know just what to say? “That moment was mutual. Your hair was shaggier, and you were wearing your white muscle shirt with black athletic shorts. That was the first time I’d ever met a guy who made me think about something other than my camera.”

He grinned. “I’ve been hooked ever since.”

She smiled. “That’s another thing we have in common.”

Chuckling, he wrapped her up in a hug, kissing her. “I love seeing that smile on your face.”

“It feels good to smile again.” She kissed him back, locking her arms behind his neck. “Maybe this is why we came today. As soon as the lawyer told us that Dad still owned the property, I knew I had to come back.”

“One last time.”

She shrugged. “Will you be sad if this is the last time we come here? If we say goodbye and sell it?”

“I want you to do whatever feels right for you.”

She shook her head. “This place is as much yours as it is mine.”

He puffed out a breath as he looked around the room. “I don’t think it does us any good to hold on to it. I think I understand why your dad did, though.”

She nodded with a pang of sadness. “I love the memories we’ve made, but I want to move forward.”

He kissed her again. “I love that idea.”

“Should we take a last look around—grab anything extra special?”

He nodded. “Although, I’m not sure how we’ll fit your bed in the Sorento.”

Her brow furrowed as she sent him a puzzled smile. “What?”

“A lot of magic happened on that thing.”

She laughed. “If that’s your barometer for what’s coming with us, we’re going to have a problem. Magic happened all over this house, Jagger.”

He laughed this time. “My bed, the showers, couches, countertops, the pool, nearly every rug in this joint.”

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