Seaside Sunsets (29 page)

Her eyes were used to the darkness after she lay awake for almost three hours. During that time she’d discovered things about Jamie that endeared him to her even more. He was a man of gentle, understated comfort and luxury. The king-sized bed was strikingly masculine and dark, with touches of ornate carvings along the ridges of the substantial headboard, which matched the long dresser and the taller one between the windows. His burgundy comforter and cream-colored sheets were soft as satin, though made of something altogether different and lovely. Probably Egyptian cotton with an impossibly high thread count. The comforter was as thick as two high-end comforters others might buy from expensive stores in New York or Paris, but the simplicity of the other elements in the room made them feel understated and modest. From the frosty sconces above the bed and the shaggy, deep throw rug at the foot of the bed to the photographs atop the dressers that told of his years before his parents died, his bedroom felt like a world in and of itself. Like his private hideaway, and in Jamie’s arms, she felt like she belonged right there with him. 

She turned to face him, and in his sleep he tightened his grip around her with a sated sigh. He’d looked so sorrowful when he’d explained all that he’d gone through, and the reality of his doubting had cut her to her core. But apparently her core wasn’t as thin as other women’s, because beneath the swollen, raw flesh of that cut, lay something too thick to damage with misunderstandings, the very foundation of what made her the determined cellist that she was. Beyond the pushing and micromanaging of her mother, beyond the desire to please her, lay her heart. And no matter how much prodding and encouragement she was given, it was her heart that she played with, just as it was her heart that had her reaching her hand up to stroke Jamie’s cheek.

Lying there in the dark had allowed her to discover things about herself, and she hadn’t even been looking. Apparently, she didn’t have to look, because her heart led those discoveries as if it were weaving fine fabric, replenishing the frayed edges and thinly worn center of her being, repairing the pieces of flesh that had been cut through with Jamie’s admission.

He was right. It would have been easier for him to say he’d only doubted where she worked, but Jamie was a moral, ethical man, good-natured and thoughtful through and through. Hadn’t he proven that with the way he took care of Vera? The way he took care of her, up until that very last day? Jamie wasn’t about the easy way, and she could see by the way his friends protected him—even if Mark was a mean bastard—that he’d earned that love and dedication moment by moment.

She ran the pad of her thumb over the prickly and soft edge between his scruff and his bare cheek. A low, sweet moan slipped from his lips, and again he pulled her closer. In his cotton tee and her panties, she couldn’t feel the planes of his bare chest. Carefully, trying not to move too much and rattle him awake, she slipped the shirt over her head and placed it beside her. All it took was a graze of his chest with her breasts for her entire body to fill with desire and her nipples to remember his touch and rise against him. Her eyes welled with fresh tears again, but the pain from earlier was gone. She pressed her lips to his, selfishly drenching herself in his taste, his scent, his slumbering softness, and, moments later, his strength as his body awoke and his embrace tightened. His breathing became more urgent, and the muscles in his chest, legs, and all the delicious places in between hardened.

His hand slid up to the back of her neck, sending pinpricks from his touch to her toes as he deepened the kiss, and she fell into it. Opening to Jamie again was easy, because she’d never been closed, not any part of her. He breathed air into her lungs, stroking the hairs on the back of her neck, loving her mouth, deeper, more intensely, as salty tears slipped between their lips.

He drew back, inhaling as he touched his forehead to hers and exhaling her name. “Jessie.”

Her name carried so much love, it brought certainty. With her heart in her throat, she managed, “I know why I couldn’t leave.”

His eyes opened, hooded, cautious, as he kissed tears from her cheeks.

“Because I’m yours, Jamie. I think my phone had Jamie radar when I threw it over the deck.”

“Even after…?”

She touched his cheek again. “Even after. Maybe because of.”

Their lips met again, sweet and loving, as their bodies and minds overcame the crinkle in time that had parted them, filled it in and smoothed it out with every caress, every kiss. Her hands traveled down the familiar planes of his back, hard and warm, to the curve at the base of his spine, where she pressed, bringing his hips to hers.

“Jessie,” he whispered, as he trailed kisses over her dimples, down her chin, to the hollow of her neck.

They rolled together easily, as if their two bodies were one. Jessica’s back touched the sheets as Jamie’s mouth touched her shoulders. He kissed the sides of her breasts, down her ribs, sending shudders of desire between her legs. His mouth moved carefully, as if he were relearning the curves of her body, kissing, loving, sucking every bit of her flesh. Her fingers found his cheek, and he moved from her belly to her fingertips. He kissed each one, then drew them slowly into his mouth. His tongue swirled gently around each one before taking in the next and stealing her ability to think with each erotic stroke. He took her wet fingers and placed them between her legs, then lifted his eyes to hers, and she knew what he wanted. Without hesitation or embarrassment, she held his gaze as she slid her fingers over her slick center, and his eyes went impossibly darker. He gripped her hips and dragged his tongue down beneath her belly button, loving her with open-mouthed kisses along the creases of her legs. Her hand stilled, and she felt his eyes on her, but hers were closed. When he touched her hand and guided it over and back, caressing her wetness, she opened them, unsure if she’d survive the wait to be even closer to him. When he brought his mouth to her, expertly stroking over and around her fingers, a heady moan escaped her lungs. She felt an orgasm clawing at the periphery. Her fingers stopped, unable to function past the need to reach the edge. Jamie lifted her hand and drew her fingers into his mouth again, sucking them dry. He reached up and squeezed her taut nipple, his mouth working miracles down below, and she tumbled over the edge. The world exploded in lights behind her closed lids, fire moved through her veins, and her hips bucked and rocked against his restraint as he held her down with one strong hand.

“Need,” she panted. “You.”

Jamie moved swiftly up her body and buried the tip of his arousal as he gazed down at her. His biceps flexed, his broad chest slick with sweat, her scent on his lips. His expression was a mixture of desperation and desire.

“There’s no going back for me. The moment I’m inside you, Jessie, I’m yours again.”

Mine
. The most beautiful word she’d ever thought.

“You’ve always been mine, as I’ve been yours. We just took forever to find each other.”

He moved into her, filling her so completely with not just the beauty between his legs, but the depths of emotion in his eyes, so raw and real it threatened to drown them both.

And as they fell over the edge together, in a tangle of limbs and lips, sighs and heady pleas, she knew there was no threat of drowning when she was with Jamie, only a sea of pleasure, a world of love, and a promise of truth.

EVERYTHING REALLY DID look better in the light of day, or maybe it was just the view of Jessica sitting on the back patio wearing Jamie’s soft cotton tee, bare from the waist down save for her panties. Her long legs were tucked beneath her as she sipped coffee, her eyes on the manila envelope between them. The sight of it made Jamie’s muscles cord tight, but Jessica was relaxed as could be as she lowered her cup from her lips and lifted her eyes to him.

“It’s not going to open itself,” she said with a mischievous smile.

She knew he didn’t want to open the damn thing. They’d talked about it after they’d finally pried themselves from each other’s arms, briefly, at least. They’d showered and made love again beneath the warm spray of the shower, and they’d discussed the envelope again as they’d dressed—Jessica in one of his fresh T-shirts and him in a pair of faded jeans. She said she didn’t want to wear her skirt.
Not yet. I like the feeling of being back at the Cape, where we could just be ourselves. We can deal with the real world after eight o’clock.

He liked that idea. He liked it very much.

While Jamie called his office, Jessica had retrieved the envelope from the car. He’d protested, not wanting it inside the house, but she’d carried it out back, barefoot and smiling.

“I have nothing to hide, Jamie. Let’s see what he’s found out about me.”

She was teasing him again, egging him on. He had no doubt that she had nothing to hide—he only wished he’d followed his instincts days earlier. But maybe this was what was meant to be.

“The last few days are like a bad memory I’d rather forget. Besides, if I see what’s in it, I’m going to get mad at him all over again and fire his ass.” He reached for her hand, the memory of the night before coming back to him. Watching her touch herself, open herself to him again, even after everything they’d gone through, all that he’d admitted, she still trusted him without hesitation.

He kissed the back of her hand, knowing he’d never do anything to jeopardize her trust again.

“Jamie, Mark did this because he loves you. I know that now. I understand that, and I can look at it knowing that and not be bothered, the same way that I know that you doubted me because of what you knew of people other than me. We can’t hold on to anger and frustration, or it eats away at us.” She set her cup down and smiled, then furrowed her brow. “I think, anyway. I’m not one hundred percent certain about this, but that’s how I’ve always dealt with my mother’s overbearing personality. She lives vicariously through me, and I know that, so I put up with it. Well, at least I did, until this summer. I’m done putting up with it, but it doesn’t mean that I’m going to hold a grudge or be angry when I see her. She loves me. She did what she thought I’d want, or what she thought would be best for me, and I can hardly blame her for doing what she felt was right. I get that now. It’s the same with Mark.” She pushed her hair from in front of her eyes. “I think I’m going to tell her how I feel. Clear the air, and let it all be water under the bridge so I can move forward. She’s my mom. I love her. I think you can do the same thing with Mark, can’t you?”

Jamie shook his head in disbelief, then cupped her cheeks and planted a kiss on her luscious lips. “You are remarkable. You’re the one he treated so badly, and you’re sticking up for him.”

“No. I’m definitely not sticking up for him. I’m seeing things more clearly, that’s all. When you love someone, you do things that feel right at the time. Sometimes that means hurting someone else—with words or fists.” She looked down at his hands, her eyes serious and contemplative. “And other times, you hurt them in other ways, like leaving the Cape, hoping not to cause any more trouble for them.”

Jessica moved into his lap and rested her forehead against his. “And if you’re lucky, the person you hurt realizes why you did those things, and you work through them and come up with guidelines and understandings that create a safety net around the two of you.”

“Like the three-date rule?” He kissed her again.

She rolled her eyes. “That was the one rule I’m glad we broke.” She looked away, twisting the ends of her hair in her fingers, and sighed. “You know what?”

“I know lots of
whats
, but probably not the
what
you’re asking about.” He patted her butt, drawing her eyes back to his.

“That is very true. For a woman with almost no relationship experience, I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

“Yeah, you are.” He took her in a delicious, greedy kiss. How could he leave the envelope unopened after everything she’d said? Maybe it was time they cleared the air and put this all behind them. “Before we open this, I just want to be clear. You don’t want me to fire Mark? After everything? After this?”

She shook her head. “Would you stop being friends with him if he’d been right about me?”

“No, but…”

“Jamie, you have to admit, I have a strange situation with my name, and we did move very fast, and that night, heck, even now, you don’t know
where
I live.” She handed him the envelope. “But I have a feeling you’re about to find out.”

His chest constricted as he tore the top of the envelope and withdrew the papers. He held them against his chest. “This is your last chance. I can burn them. There’s a fire pit right across the patio. One match…”

She took the papers from him and read the cover letter clipped to the front. Her hand covered her mouth. “Oh, Jamie.”

He closed his eyes. “There are matches in the kitchen.”

“No, Jamie. You have to read this.”

He opened his eyes. “Read it to me.”

She shifted her eyes to him, and when she spoke, her voice was filled with compassion, and sorrow, and all the emotions Mark had written and been unable to say.

Jamie,

If you ever repeat this to anyone, I will take you down slowly and painfully.

Jamie shook his head.
Mark. Idiot
.
 

She continued reading.

You know I’m always right. Of course you do. I’m laughing, and know you are, too. It appears that in this instance, I jumped the gun. I know I went against your wishes by checking into Jessica’s background, but you also probably knew I would. We’ve known each other too long for you to expect otherwise. It’s why we make a great team. In these pages you’ll see that Jessica is everything she’s claimed to be, but I’ve found that she’s far more than you led me to believe, or maybe more than you were aware of. All that stuff aside, I’m truly sorry for the pain I caused you both. I know this is big. Huge. You love her enough to hit me, man. I owe you one for that, by the way.