He kisses my neck and then he reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone.
“What are you doing?” I ask, suspicious, as he lifts his iPhone, angling us both into the frame, and snaps a photo as he presses a kiss to my jaw.
“What are you doing?” I ask again, sliding a hand over my face.
“Capturing the moment,” he says easily. “It’s a good moment.”
“What are you going to do with it?” I ask as he shows me the photo.
“Make it my lock screen, obviously.”
I whirl around to look at him. “Tell me you’re joking. Jesse, what if someone at work sees it?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “No one will see it,” he says, histone unbothered and annoyingly sexy. “But I’ll see it, and it will make me happy. It’s me and my girl.”
I take a breath, nerves scraping up my spine. It occurs to me that this is one of those times where you either leap…or you run. And in this moment, at this little corner table in this out of the way café, I choose to leap.
“Jesse,” I say quietly, turning again so I can see his face. “I need to ask you something.”
His grin fades, replaced by a more serious expression. “Okay. Ask me.”
My pulse knocks hard against my ribs. “What exactly is this?” I ask. “You and me. Because it doesn’t feel like pretending anymore. And I don’t think I want it to be.”
For a second, he doesn’t speak. When I twist farther to face him, I find something soft and unguarded sitting right there in his eyes, like he’s been waiting for me to say those words. He doesn’t look away. “Mads…” he murmurs. “I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That I’m not faking a damn thing with you.”
My heart lurches. He shifts me a little closer, his arm tightening around my middle. “The gala, the hotel, the office these past couple of weeks, Ford’s place the other night…none of that was fake for me. Not one second. I’m not interested in pretending with you. I want the real thing.”
A tremor moves down my spine, a mix of want and relief all tangled together. “So, we’re…” I falter, not sure what to say next.
“We’re whatever you want us to be,” he says. “But yeah. I’m in this,” he adds. “With you. Not because we made up a story for your parents. Because I choose you.”
I swallow hard, my throat thick. “And if I choose you too?” I whisper.
His smile deepens, slow and sure, like he’s been waiting years instead of weeks to hear it. “Then, Mads,” he says, leaningin until his forehead touches mine, “that makes us real. That makes us together. I’m yours and you are mine.”
His eyes are dark and completely unguarded. He shifts forward, one hand sliding up my spine, guiding me gently but decisively closer. “Come here,” he murmurs.
There’s no teasing in it. No smirk. Just Jesse being vulnerable and wanting…me.
I tilt my chin up, giving him the permission his eyes are silently asking for. I expect a collision, but what I get is his lips touching mine in a slow, careful kiss that’s so gentle it’s soft enough to break me open. I chase the taste, licking into him before I force myself to pull back. Jesse Winters can kiss. And when he does, he doesn’t hold anything back.
“I want to take you somewhere,” he says quietly. “Somewhere I go sometimes when I need to breathe.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“It’s just a short drive from here.”
He brushes one last quick kiss to my mouth then stands and offers me his hand. I take it, sliding my fingers into his without hesitation.
Outside, the wind carries that scent of ocean and pine that Deep Cove always has, and Jesse lifts our joined hands to press a kiss to the back of mine.
He shifts the sports car into drive and pulls back onto the road, looking at me with that soft, private smile he seems to save for me.
He turns into a small gravel parking lot at a trailhead and as soon as we’re out of the car he tucks me into his side. We follow the path through the trees and eventually the view begins to open up around us: ocean mist drifting low over the water, the mountains faint and blue in the distance. The farther we walk, the quieter it gets, like the world is dimming itself just enough for the two of us.
