Grimm Tidings: Grimm's Circle, Book 6 (17 page)

“I don’t know what you
want
, Jacob.” Turning, she faced him and wasn’t surprised to see him standing just a whisper away. So close she could touch him. Reach out and hold him. “I’ve spent the past four years of my life so damned confused and then things finally seem clear. I know what I want, what I need, but I’ll be damned if I can make any sense out of what you want. You act like you want me, and then you just shove me away. A good fuck.”

A harsh laugh escaped her and she pushed around him. “Maybe that’s all you wanted—an easy fuck. I sure as hell gave you that, didn’t I?”

She made it halfway across the room.

And then the low, unsteady rasp of his voice stopped her in her tracks.

“My entire
life
, I haven’t wanted anything—anybody—the way I want you.”

Celine closed her eyes.

The floorboards creaked, although she didn’t hear any other sound. Closing her hands into fists, she held still as he drew nearer. The low, velvet-rough sound of his voice stroked over her skin and she wished,
wanted
to get lost in the sound of it, just forget everything else.

“Just you, Celine.”

Swallowing around the knot in her throat, she lifted her head and stared at him. “Just me.” With a brittle laugh, she shook her head. “If that were true, then you wouldn’t have tried to push me away—once, twice, um…
three
times?”

“I would. If I didn’t trust myself,” he murmured. He cupped his hand over her neck, eased her chin up. “If I wasn’t willing to trust myself, trust you. I’ve spent all these months watching you mourn your husband.”

“You were watching me mourn my
life
,” she corrected. “And it’s one that was built on fairy tales.” She curled her lip at him. “You should know all about them, shouldn’t you? You’re one of the older ones.”

“Not so old as that.” He glanced at the book on the floor and nudged it with his toe. “But I know all about living a life that’s built on make-believe. Perhaps you could understand a bit, where I’m coming from. You lived, thinking you still had a life. I lived, thinking you still loved him. And you freely admit, you did still love him…has that changed?”

Curling her hand around his wrist, Celine tugged his hand away. “There’s love…and there’s in love. Aren’t you the one who told me that?”

She closed her eyes, uncertainty battering her. Love swamped her, confused her. “Some part of my heart will always be Gavin’s…in a way. He was my first love. You can understand that, right?”

Jacob looked away. “Do you know…I was born in the year 1809?”

Caught off guard by the change of subject, she watched as he pulled away and knelt down, picking up the book she’d thrown at him. The old one. Very old, she realized. He checked the spine, opened it to look inside and peer at the pages. “Ah, 1809?” She blinked, did the math. Wow. He was over two centuries old. That was…wow.

She knew there were older ones than that. Like Will. And although she hadn’t asked him, Rob.

But still.

“1809,” he murmured, still staring down at the book. “I had a friend. His name was Benjamin. The two of us, we went into business together. We did a right fine job of it. Made a bit of money. Then we made a bit more. That was my true love. Money. The making of it. Money.” Then he tossed her a faint grin. “And fighting. I always did love a good match. Fair or not, as long as I got to bloody my knuckles.”

He sighed and lowered his gaze back to the book. “But in the end, it was money that held me. Always money…until it was too late for me.”

Celine stared at the book he held. That very, very old book.

“Jacob?”

He tossed her the book. “There’s no secret in who I am.”

She caught it reflexively, glanced down at the title and managed, just barely, to keep her jaw from chopping.
A Christmas Carol
. Jacob…there was a Jacob in that story.

A Jacob
Marley
—but he’d been old…

“The writer took some creative license,” Jacob said, moving to stare out the window. “But writers have a knack for doing that, I suppose. He did capture much of my…spirit …so to speak, though. I had a mad love for money and in my mortal life there wasn’t room for anything else.”

He turned and faced her, his arms crossed over his chest, flinty gray eyes locked on her face. “And in all that time, I’ve never met a single woman who managed to make me think about her for longer than it took to get her naked. Not until I saw you trying your damnedest to get yourself killed in an alley with that fool, Finn.” He paused, his head cocked as he studied her. “Do I
understand
the power that a first love could perhaps hold on you? Yes, Celine. Possibly, I do. But because I do, I’m not so certain I can understand that you’ve moved on from
your
first love.”

Her knees almost buckled. Blood roared in her ears. She needed to think. Oh man, did she need to think. And that was the very last thing she could do, she realized.

This was too precarious. Too fragile. Swallowing, she swiped her damp hands across the thin fabric of her borrowed shirt and started toward him. “Do you think you’re different, now? From who you were?”

He inclined his head. The answer was there. In those unyielding eyes.

“You’re the one who told me I couldn’t go back,” she said quietly. “And you’re right. But here’s the thing…I don’t
want
to. Not anymore. And you’re why. You’re the one who made me realize this is where I belong. Not just because I’m good at this demon-slayer, guardian-angel gig. But because…” She paused and hoped like hell she wasn’t about to make a fool of herself. Clearing her throat, she finished softly, “I wouldn’t go back. Even if I could. Because I’m where I need to be…where I belong…with
you
. I’m not who I was. And that’s not a bad thing. The woman I was never could have appreciated the man you are. And I don’t know if I could have loved you…the way I was. But I know this. I sure as hell love you now—and I wouldn’t give that up for anything, for anybody.”

As Celine took one step closer, he watched her. His hands were shaking, Jacob realized. Shaking, like he had a fever. He didn’t give a bloody damn. Lifting one, he curved it over her neck and stared at her, watching her eyes, her face. “You’re certain of that?” he whispered, lowering his head until their lips were just a breath away.

“I’ve never been more certain of anything.”

“Oh, thank God.” Hauling her against him, he buried his face against her neck. “I love you, Celine. Dear God, I love you.”

“No more disappearing,” she whispered. “No more running. No more hiding.”

“No. None.”

“Good…” Her hands twined around his neck and she arched up, pressing against him. “And we still need to talk about that dream deal, you know.”

“That’s fine. I’ll even let you throw another book at me, if you’ve a need.”

Celine laughed, touching her mouth to his. The sound faded, lost itself in a sigh.

“Over two hundred years old, huh?” she whispered against his lips.

He grinned, lifted his head. “Yes…and I spent every last one of them, I think, waiting…for you.”

About the Author

Shiloh Walker has been writing since she was a kid. She fell in love with vampires with the book Bunnicula and has worked her way up to the more…ah…serious works of fiction. She loves reading and writing anything paranormal, anything fantasy, and nearly every kind of romance. Once upon a time she worked as a nurse, but now she writes full time and lives with her family in the Midwest. She writes paranormal and contemporary romance, as well as romantic suspense.

Look for these titles by Shiloh Walker

Now Available:

The Huntress

Hunter’s Edge

My Lady

Playing for Keeps

For the Love of Jazz

Vicious Vixen

Always Yours

Talking with the Dead

No Longer Mine

Taking Chances

The Redeeming

Beautiful Girl

A Forever Kind of Love

Grimm’s Circle

Candy Houses

No Prince Charming

I Thought It Was You

Tarnished Knight

Locked in Silence

You can always come home. Second chances come a little harder.

A Forever Kind of Love

© 2011 Shiloh Walker

Chase and Zoe were the high school golden couple. Football captain, cheerleader, prom royalty. After graduation, though, Chase couldn’t resist the urge to experience life outside their small town. He didn’t exactly expect Zoe to wait twelve years for him, but now that he’s back, he finds some small part of him hoping she did.

It’s no big surprise she’s married. The kick in the face is she married his best friend.

Zoe was devastated when Chase left, but she’s filed those bittersweet memories under “Moved On”. She loves her life, and loves her husband. She has all she needs. And Chase keeps an honorable distance.

One cold, wet, miserable day, tragedy turns Zoe’s world upside down. Chase never expected her to simply fall into his arms, but a man can dream. Except his dream doesn’t include the fact that this time, she’s the one hitting the road…and he’s the one left behind.
 

Warning: This story contains heartbreak, heartache and one last chance for two lovers to find each other.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
A Forever Kind of Love:

Staring at the bag of books, Chase tried to tell himself to just leave it on the porch and get back in his car.

Instead of doing that, which was probably the smarter thing, he knocked on the door. Hell, he knew Roger needed a distraction and he’d just gotten some new political thrillers in that were just up the guy’s alley—and two of them were audio books.

Zoe’s favorite urban fantasy author had a new book out.

Books were a nice distraction at any time, right?

It wasn’t like he didn’t have a good reason for swinging by.

Ever since he’d found out about Roger’s diagnosis, the petty anger he’d harbored against his friend… Well, Chase had realized just how fucking petty it was, and he’d shoved it straight where it needed to go, out of his heart, out of his mind.

They might never have the friendship they’d had in high school, but they were friends and right now, both Zoe and Roger needed all the friends they could get.

And Chase needed to be there for both of them as much as he could.

Besides, his dad was worrying about him too. Ever since Roger had turned in his resignation, the old man had come by as often as he could, but it was now re-election time and instead of visiting every couple of days, he could only get by once a week or so and Chase had promised he’d come by today.

All valid reasons.

Nobody needed to know it was a perfectly legit cover for him to be able to look at Zoe and soothe the ragged pain inside his heart, one that gotten worse ever since the time he’d laid eyes on her again in the city square a few months back.

He couldn’t help her.

She was going through something he couldn’t even imagine and he couldn’t do shit to help.

Except bring some books for Roger and offer to help out at her store as much as he could, and that didn’t count for much of anything. He couldn’t take this pain from her, he couldn’t fix Roger—as fucking jealous as he was, he’d fix the man in a heartbeat if it was in his power, but he couldn’t.

All he could do was stand by and watch as two people he loved suffered.

The door swung open and the smile and speech he’d rehearsed faded away into nothing as he found himself staring at Zoe’s face.

“Chase, hi.”

Forcing himself to smile, he held out the bag. “Hey. Wanted to bring this by. And I promised my dad I’d come by and check on things.”

She might have barred him from coming in but he edged past her, forcing her to back up unless she wanted him brushing up against her. Which she didn’t—Chase was fully aware of the extreme care she took
not
to let him touch her. The door closed behind them and he turned to study Zoe’s face.

She looked tired.

Still so fucking beautiful it made his heart ache just to look at her, but tired. Like she could sleep for a week.

Tired and frazzled and frustrated.

He felt like a major prick because he wanted to offer to hold her for the entire week.

Her husband’s dying, man. Remember him? Guy used to be your best friend? Still is your friend
?

“How are you?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” She gave him a practiced, completely false smile.

“Bullshit.” He dropped the bag on the table centered under a mirror and folded his arms over his chest, studying her face. “Don’t hand me the line you hand people in your store, people at church, whoever. I know you too well. How are you, really?”