“He threw me against the wall and down into the mirror that shattered. We’ll get a new one.”
“Yes. We will. In our house. Is this our house?”
She hesitates. “It’s fast.”
“I know.”
“But I’m not leaving.”
IT’S AN AGREEMENT AMONGthe group of people who helped with the “situation” that it won’t be mentioned unless it must be. Jasper is my hero. I turn my phone back on. I move money into my checking account. I know that soon, I can go back home. If anyone ever asks for proof of Matt’s insanity and rage issues, there are literally 220 messages on my phone from October 31st to November 5th, and 190 are from Matt. They range from tearful pleading to dire threats that make my stomach contents come back up. The others are from friends, wondering what the hell happened to me.
Well, today, I called my friends back and told them why I hadn’t called. I told them about the abuse. About running. About getting help and filing for a divorce.
Then, I turned my phone off. Jasper’s coming home.
Ari is napping when he arrives at three. Jasper told me over breakfast that he has to go into the basement at quarter of five, and he’s taking two doses of his potion to make him sleepier and calmer. He wants me to leave the house tonight, but... But I’m safe. Even with the wolf.
My big not-so-bad wolf, I realize. I tingle (in a good way) when I think of how he saved me. I flush when I remember his naked body pressed to mine when he transformed, warm and rugged, exhausted and riddled with guilt and pain, sure he’d lost me—when he was actually cementing the fact that I love him in a way I didn’t know was possible.
Messy, imperfectly perfect love.
Does it make me a horrible person to want to show him tonight? I should wait.
But then his voice calls, “I’m home.”
And it feels like I’m home, too. “Baby is sleeping!” I rush to tell him when he opens the door.
He looks beat, and he collapses into my hug, his big form leaning on my petite one in a way that shows this big beast is as vulnerable as I am, in different ways. I know his secrets. He knows mine.
I kiss Jasper Wainwright like I can breathe life into him, and I soak in his warmth, thanking him for the life he’s been giving back to me.
“Whoa.” He looks at me in wonder when I pull away. “Loretta.”
“Too much?” I blush.
“No. Not enough—but I’m not in a hurry!” he protests.
“Well, I don’t think you’d want to do more now,” I explain, showing that I understand. “I’m still nursing. Sometimes there’s leakage. And my pre-baby body never came back.”
Jasper looks like I smacked him. “What? Is that... Do you think I don’t like your body?”
“Well, you’ve never seen it. It’s got sags and stretchmarks.”
This man moans.Moans, with his eyes closed. You know,thatkind of moan. Bow-chicka-wow-wow noises.
“Is Arianna going to be up soon?” he asks.
“Not until 4:30, I’d guess.”
“Can I show you how much I want that body, with its sags and stretchmarks? With every perfect ripple and line?” he asks, dropping kisses on my skin.
“But Matt was—”
“Was idiotic? We found that out.”
My body throbs when he touches me. Scoops me up. “My hands are sore. And my knees. I can’t—”
“Can you lie on your back and let me love you?”
