I’d love to share so much more with her, but I don’t want to freak her out by saying that right now. So, I gaze into those beautiful green eyes instead, silently willing her to understand. Hoping she can see the love and respect I have for her in my face.
We’ve spent most of the meal talking about easier things—my training, her weekend. After spending so much time with herthis week, being so careful not to spook her, I’m glad to finally have it out in the open in words that I enjoy her company.
More than enjoy it. She’s rapidly become my whole world.
She gives me a soft smile, repositioning our hands so they’re clasped more fully, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
“I’m glad too,” she says quietly. “Thank you for inviting me. And thank you for everything this week, Jake. Really.”
I smile back. “It’s my pleasure. Anything for you.”
I know how sappy that probably sounds, and I don’t give a damn. It’s the God’s honest truth. I’d do anything for this woman.
As that reality settles in deeper, I give her hand a little squeeze. We sit like that in silence for a few moments, holding hands across the table and gazing into each other. I feel a shift in the air as something builds between us. Something vital and electric. Rather than try to name it or minimize or explain it away, I lean into it and glide my thumb along her soft skin.
She inhales audibly, but doesn’t tense. In fact, she softens, her entire body leaning in toward mine.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur after a moment. “So precious and incredible, Holly.”
She gives me a radiant smile, basking in my praise, so I keep it up, telling her everything I love about her, from her beautiful heart and courageous spirit to her incredible generosity and creativity, right along with her gorgeous body and stunningsmile.
“I love everything about you,” I tell her honestly. The charge in the air is palpable now, a frisson on my skin, a warmth in my blood and bones.
“I’m really bad at this, Jake,” she whispers after a moment. “But I don’t want to be. I want…” Her voice trails off as tears pool in her eyes, and all I can think about is comforting her.
“I’d like to hug you, Holly,” I say when she doesn’t continue. “Is that okay with you?”
She nods, blinking back her tears, and I’m there for her in an instant, moving around the table and crouching to her level, wrapping my arms around her. She hugs me back, her tears flowing now. I hate that she’s crying, but damn, it feels so right holding her close like this.
“I’ve got you, Hols,” I soothe, gliding a palm along her back and loving the fact that I’ve just given her a nickname. “You’re safe with me,” I remind her. “We can take whatever pace you need. You’re safe. Let go, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
“Please don’t call me that,” she chokes out, the pain in her voice piercing my heart and putting my protective instincts on alert. “Sweetheart is what he—” She shakes her head against my shoulder and whispers, “I can’t, Jake.”
More tears come in a torrent, her body shaking with her sobs, and I hold her closer, determined to be her rock and fortress through the storm she’s obviously experiencing.
“I’ve got you, Holly,” I vow aloud,determined to help her feel safe.
She cries for several minutes, and I remain steadfast, holding her the entire time, saying soothing things to her, avoiding using the word sweetheart since it’s apparent the asshole who hurt her used that word. I’ll strike it from my vocabulary.
Anything for her.
Eventually, she calms, and I reposition so I can lift her. She goes with it, wrapping her arms around my neck and her legs around my body, letting me carry her. I take us into the living room, still speaking softly to her, and settle us on the couch opposite the fireplace with her in my lap.
Holly nestles into my chest, her head resting under mine, and I love the scent of her shampoo. Something fruity I can’t quite identify, but it makes me think of pomegranates and almond croissants.
“I’m sorry,” she says softly after a minute. “I don’t—”
“I’ve got you,” I reiterate. “I’m not afraid of a few tears.”
She sniffles, but she’s stopped crying, from what I can tell. Her body isn’t quaking any more, and that’s a good thing. I tell her so, and she snuggles closer, tucking her arms under mine.
I let her do what she needs to, relishing every micro-movement, every shared breath, and the way she’s seeking comfort in my embrace. I don’t know what initially set her off, or why she started crying, but that she’s cuddled up to me right now lets me know it’s probably not from something I did, even calling her ’sweetheart’ when I didn’t know she hated that term. Still, I want to make damn sure, because if any of her tears are because of me, I need to fix that.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, running my palm along her spine in a soothing rhythm.
She uncurls herself from my chest and leans back in my arms to gaze at me. I flatten my hand along her lower back, returning her gaze unflinchingly, wanting her to see that I’m all in here with her.
“I’ve got you,” I remind her. “You can tell me anything. I promise.”
