Page 94 of The Scars We Heal

Wandering hands clutched onto damp clothes, but neither of us made a move toward the house. With foreheads pressed together, drops of rain dripping from eyelashes and rolling down cheeks, I ran my thumb over her bottom lip, gliding over the spot I’d bitten a few moments earlier.

Her cheeks flushed and her mouth was swollen, but, God, she looked fucking beautiful. She looked like mine, if she would let me have her. Let me keep her.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

caitlin

I’m so sorry,” he whispered into my hair. “I fucked up this morning. The last thing I ever want to do is put your relationship with Whitley at risk.”

I peered at him through wet lashes, my hand reaching up to wipe what I wasn’t sure was a rolling bead of water or a tear from under his eye. “I know. I’m sorry I freaked out.”

“Don’t. Please,” he pleaded, eyes misty. “Don’t ever apologize for protecting her. You’re a good mom, Cait.”

“I’m doing the best I can,” I murmured.

“And it’s fucking incredible. You’re fucking incredible.”

The rain had permeated my clothing and tendrils of hair clung to my face, but I didn’t move to brush the strands out of the way.

Jake cradled my face in his hands and gave me one more gentle kiss before picking up the lantern in one hand and taking my hand in the other. “Let’s get you inside so you don’t catch a cold, yeah?”

I nodded, grabbing the flashlight off the ground and letting him pull me back to the safety of the house.

I hung up my drenched rain jacket, putting a towel underneath it to catch the droplets of water. My T-shirt underneath was saturated with water, and my socks squished in the soles of my shoes.

“I can throw your clothes in the dryer once the power comes back on,” I offered, although if Jake’s clothes were anything like mine, he was soaked down to the bone. “If you want to go into the bathroom, I’ll see if I have anything you can wear. You can take a shower, too, if you want. I’ve never really believed in the whole ‘don’t take a shower in a thunderstorm’ thing. Just leave your clothes outside the door and I’ll take care of them.”

He nodded then raced to the bathroom with the lantern, careful not to leave too much of a trail behind him.

I retreated to my room to change into dry clothes and wring out my hair before taking a brush to the strands to get any tangles out. Once I was done, I flicked on the flashlight and rummaged through my closet and drawers, trying to find clothes for Jake. I didn’t want him to feel like he had to stay in the bathroom until the power came on and I was able to throw his clothes in the dryer, but the last thing I wanted was for Whitley to wake up and come out of her room to find me, only to see a naked man in the living room.

Unfortunately, I didn’t even have anything oversize or even any of Adam’s clothes that might have randomly wound up in my belongings to offer him. Though, I was sure he wouldn’t want those to begin with. They probably wouldn’t fit, either. Jake was taller and more muscular than Adam.

I tapped on the bathroom door when I passed by. “I couldn’t find any clothes that would fit you. Unless you want a bathrobe,” I added with a laugh.

“All good,” he called back through the door. “I’ll just hang out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, Cait. It’s all good.”

I walked out to the living room to see if the storm was starting to subside, but it looked like it was going to be a while.

Sitting cross legged outside the bathroom, I tapped the door again. “It’s me.”

Jake laughed, the sound rich and warm. “Well, I would hope so.”

“Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, Cait. I’m good.” Something—likely his body weight—thudded against the bathroom door.

I turned, so my back was against the door, and brought my knees up to my chest.

“Are you doing okay?” he parroted.

Releasing my held breath, I lifted my chin to inspect the popcorn ceiling. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I thought I was fine, but then Adam showed up…” Voice trailing off, I scratched the back of my neck. “I just don’t know anymore. I feel like this whole thing with him has called my entire existence into question. I want to be a good enough mom for Whitley and everyone tells me I am, but what if they’re wrong? What if Adam’s right and I’m not fit for this? What if I’m never going to be enough for her?” A tear rolled down my cheek, and I bit my lip, trying to feel pain somewhere else. Give myself something else to focus on.

The door opened, and I caught myself, planting my hands firmly on the floor before I fell backward. A solid, warm chest pressed into my back, and Jake’s arms wrapped around me. He had his towel wrapped around his waist, and little droplets of water fell from the ends of his hair, dripping onto my shoulder.