“It came with the house,” I finally say. “I used it some when Bash was a baby, but then I didn’t have time, and then the chickens broke it, so…”
“Would you use it if you had time and the chickens couldn’t break it?”
I stare at him. “What’s going on? What is this? What are you doing?”
“I missed you.”
That’s the last thing he’s supposed to say.
“Not just the past couple days.” His voice goes husky, and my panties go a little wet. “The past couple years. I missed you.”
“I lost Bash,” I blurt. “At the café. He was there one minute, playing with the dog, and then he was gone, and I’ve never,everbeen afraid someone kidnapped him, but I wasterrifiedsomeone knew he was yours and they grabbed him and I didn’t know if I was going to see him again, and Begonia and Hayes were there and they saw itall, and I knew—I justknew—that that was all your family would need to take him away from me.”
I haven’t even finished before he’s yanking the door open and striding inside, pulling me against his chest and holding me tight.
And then the very worst thing in the world happens.
I start crying.
Again.
“I can’t do this, Jonas. I can’t live in fear like this.”
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs into my hair. “I’ve got both of you.”
“Stop saying all the right things.”
“I’m here todothe right things. But if you don’t want me, if you don’t want this, I’ll—” He cuts himself off with a shaky breath that I can feel all the way to the pit of my soul.
And not because I’m pressed so closely to him that I can feel it against my own chest.
But because I know what he’s about to say.
“If you don’t want me and what I bring, I’ll go,” he finishes.
“Stop.”
“I mean it. I know my life is a lot. I know it’s not simple. You don’t—you don’t need me. You have family. You’re a fantastic mom. You have the life you wanted. I’m interfering.”
I don’t know if I’m holding on to him or if he’s holding on to me now.
But I know there’s not a chance in hell I’m letting go.
Jonas Rutherford, movie star? He can go.
But Jonas Rutherford, my friend, the man who’shere, who went camping with my brother and has been puked on and taken care of us and wants to fix my hot tub?
“I missed you too,” I whisper.
His grip on me tightens.
“And I hated you for how you left, and I hated you for not replying to my messages, and every time I got short on sleep, I hated you for having an easy life, andI missed my friend.”
“I’m so sorry, Emma. So sorry.”
“Mama kwy?” Bash whispers behind us.
I suck in a massive breath, pulling all of the snot and tears and fear back inside me, just as I’ve done every time I’ve thought I couldn’t do this the past couple years. Shaking free from Jonas, I wipe my eyes, then squat down to Bash’s level.
