“And I love you.”
His words feel genuine. Strong. They reverberate through me, their husky, melodic quality caressing my skin. His salty caramel scent impossible to resist.
“You left me.”
“I’ll never leave you again.” He clings onto my hands. “I love you.”
“You…”
I’m running out of excuses and reasons to run. It doesn’t seem to matter how much pain he’s caused because my body wants him. Every cell in my being seems to call to him and responds to his touch, leaving no room for doubt of what we are to each other.
“I love you,” he repeats. “You’re my everything, Delilah Goodwin. My scent match. My very reason for breathing, and I’ll spend the rest of our lives making sure you know that.”
The battle of wills—my need for self-protection, my fury at his earlier betrayal, and overwhelming lust—collide inside me. My breathing hitches. “Jagger…”
“I.” His blown-out pupils pierce me. “Love.” My eyes are drawn to his bottom lip as his teeth tug on it. Then they part, making my heart pound as my eyes snap back up to meet his heated gaze. “You.”
He leans closer. Instead of pushing him away like I know I should, all of my desire-fueled rage breaks through the surface, and I launch myself at him. My mouth hungrily finds his, ravaging his lips with a kiss that is filled with urgent neediness. A whine escapes me as he grabs my waist, drawing our bodies together. The hardness of his length against his jeans rubsagainst my stomach, pulsating through the fabric, letting me know he wants—needs—this almost as much as I do.
He tastes like all my favorite memories rolled into one. Like lazy mornings in bed. Like delicious desserts. Like snuggly blankets against my skin. He tastes likemine.
He groans, his strong shoulder muscles relaxing under my fingertips as I run my hands over them then down his back. His tongue plays with mine, our kiss deepening until?—
I sniff the air, an unpleasant, scorched odor breaking through our haze. “Is something burning?”
Oblivious, seeming to be lost in a blissful daze, Jagger plants kisses along the column of my neck. “Wh?—”
“Jagger!” I point at the orange lick of a flame catching the edge of his T-shirt that must have caught on a nearby candle. “You’re on fire!”
“Fuck!” He acts fast, whipping off his T-shirt, hurling it to the floor, then stamping out the flames. “That was a close call…”
But I’m no longer looking at the burned fabric under his shoes.
Over his heart, I see a tattoo that wasn’t there the last time I saw him without a shirt on. It’s not fresh—I’d guess it was done some months ago as it’s well-healed. A date has been permanently etched onto him forever. I know it. It’s a date I’ll never forget.
“Is that…” I reach out, my hands trembling as I trace my index finger over the black-inked numbers.
“The day we met? Yes.” He nods sadly. “I got it a few weeks after I left.” Tears fill my eyes as he tips my chin up to face him. “Even though I believed we couldn’t be together, you were always with me. I never left you behind.” He places my hand over the ink, his heart thrumming a steady rhythm underneath my shaking fingers. “Not in here.”
“This is…” A tear slides down my cheek, and he kisses it away. “I…” Why can’t I keep my emotions in check? One minute I’m furious at him for buying a bakery, the next minute I’m panting with lust. Now, knowing he commemorated the day we met on his skin forever, makes me think that maybe he’s been telling the truth. Maybe he really didn’t forget about me at all. Maybe I can actually trust what he says.
His inked torso radiates heat as I glide my hands over his chest.
“I’m so fucking sorry.” I look up at him, his eyes also swimming with tears. “I really thought I was protecting you by leaving, but I got it all wrong.”
As I stroke his cheek with my other hand, time seems to melt away, transporting us back to the first time we met. “I know,” I whisper as he nuzzles his cheek against my palm. “I know.”
He leans in, and our mouths meet again. This time, it’s not a frenzied battle but a sensual and deep kiss, steeped with emotions that can’t be put into words: relief, sadness, and care all surging through me at once. My body sags against him as a huge weight lifts from me, allowing me to surrender to the inevitable.
While I haven’t fully forgiven Jagger yet—perhaps I won’t ever be able to—this feels like the first step in a new journey. Letting go of some of my anger feels oddly freeing. While it doesn’t mean I’m letting my guard down fully yet, the door has inched open. Sure, our love story isn’t exactly what I imagined as a child, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still have a happily ever after.
“I’ll never let you down again.” He holds my face in his inked hands, cradling my cheeks like I’m something fragile he’s afraid to break. “I promise.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” I reply, rubbing my face into his chest, marking him with my scent.
“I’ll go at your pace.” He strokes my hair. “Whatever you want, okay?”
“No more buying bakeries.”
