Page 120 of Charlie

"I fucking love the way you love me," he says, his voice raw. "I hope I’m doing a good job of loving you back." I pull back slightly, startled by his words, cupping his face between my hands, and making him meet my gaze.

"You love me in a way nobody ever has before," I tell him, "You just have to promise me it will always stay like this. That we’ll communicate and work through our problems."

"I promise," he whispers, brushing his lips over mine, the touch tender and poignant. "Fuck." He presses his forehead to mine, golden eyes pinning me in place. "I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before. Like I wrenched my heart out of my chest and placed it in your hands. It’s terrifying."

"How do you think I feel? I have three chances to get my heart broken instead of just one." Just the thought of it starts the panic rising.

"You have zero chances of getting your heart broken, Sassenach. We were lost without you." My stomach chooses that second to rumble loudly. Jack chuckles, patting it gently, "Food is coming soon," he promises. I can’t help but smack his ass as he turns back toward the stove, his joggers leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.

I swear to God, this is the best breakfast I’ve ever eaten. The French toast is perfect, the bacon is crispy, and the eggs are cheesy and delicious. When we finish, he tells me to get dressed while he cleans up, refusing my offer of help. I spend a good ten minutes trying to decide what to wear before I finally land on jeans and an off-the-shoulder sweater – casual enough for a farm tour but still allows me to feel cute. I swipe on some mascara and lip gloss and then attempt to make my hair look nice, but I give up and throw it into the usual messy bun. Jack’s sitting on the couch, a flannel over his t-shirt, hair pulled back, tapping away on his phone when I come out of the bedroom.

"Before we go, we need to confirm our plans for tonight with the chef. Is there anything, in particular, you’re in the mood for or something you’d like to learn how to cook?"

I think about it for a second, racking my brain for an idea, but come up empty.

"Same," he says when I shake my head. "I’ll stick with my original idea. It was the sexiest thing I could think of for a romantic evening?—"

"Okay, okay!" I say, cutting him off and covering my ears. "Don’t tell me anymore, I want it to be a surprise!"

He zips his mouth closed, his eyes sparkling, and shoots off one last text before pocketing his phone. "Ready?"

"Let’s go," I say, excited to get the rest of the day started. I grab my jacket from the back of the couch and put all my weight into pulling open the front door.

"I’ll get that fixed for you," he says, "although I do enjoy watching you try to open and close it. Especially the way it makes your tits jiggle."

"You jerk!" I fold my arms over my breasts, making a face at him, trying to keep the grin off my face. I fail miserably. He puts his hand in the back pocket of my jeans as we walk up the path, like he can’t stand the thought of not touching me. I would have thought that was incredibly annoying just a few months ago. But now? Now I can’t stand the thought of not touching him either. He hands me the motorcycle helmet when we reach the driveway, kicks up the kickstand, and gets on, motioning for me to sit behind him. I don’t hesitate this time.

The ride to the castle is way too short. I’m finally comfortable enough to enjoy his warmth against the front of my body and the spectacular views as we make our way around the shore of the loch. He pulls in by the main entrance and cuts the engine, kicking down the stand, sliding off the motorcycle, and getting back on facing me. He flips up my visor, and suddenly, I feel like I’m in a fucking movie: a castle behind me, a motorcycle underneath me, and one of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen looking at me like I hung the moon.

"God, you look so fucking cute with the helmet," he grins. "We have one more decision to make; there are several ways of doing the farm tour. We can take the motorcycle and stick to the roads, take the truck and go off-road a little, or I have a utility vehicle that will allow us to go wherever we want; it’s a bumpy ride, though."

"The utility vehicle," I respond. "I want to see everything."

"Good choice." He pulls the helmet from my head, and helps me fix my hair, tucking it behind my ears. "I’m looking forward to growing old with you, mo chridhe."

My heart clenches, the tenderness in his words chipping away at the last bit of wall still standing around my heart.

"You’ll still love me when I’m old and wrinkled?" I ask. "When age spots pepper my skin and my boobs are down to my belly button?"

"I’ll love you even more," he rasps, sliding his hand around my neck and pulling my mouth to his. He groans, pulling away and adjusting himself. "Let’s go before I drag you inside and never let you leave."

"That sounds nice," I murmur, taking his hand as he helps me off the bike.

"Does it now?" he says, laughing.

I lean against him, pushing up on my tip toes to kiss him. "Really nice," I say against his lips, palming his cock and squeezing lightly.

"Nice try," he growls, grabbing me around the waist and swinging me over his shoulder.

I have severe regrets as he walks toward the barn, my full stomach pressing into his shoulder, but as I watch the round globes of his ass move back and forth, I have to admit that the view is spectacular.

66

Jack grins like an idiot as he hands me a helmet, making me nervous. Did I make the wrong decision? I should have played it safe and told him I wanted to do the tour in the truck. I pull the helmet over my head, wincing as I think about what my hair will look like this evening.

"Come on, get in," Jack says, chuckling when he sees my hesitation. "I’ll go easy on you."

"I never said I wanted you to go easy on me," I say. "In fact, I'm pretty sure I said the exact opposite."

---