“When what, Jeffery?”
“When I don’t remember one thing about my life before the attack.”
The suffering for this man seemed to have no end. She did not know that she was crying until a tear dropped onto their bound hands.
She must leave him now before she brought dishonor to her father and her religion. She wanted too badly to offer him more comfort than was wise. She wanted to look too long upon his face, press her lips to his, and touch him in ways only a wife should touch her husband.
But then he whispered her name. And the need and the yearning in his eyes sent her heart beating wildly. They drowned out the voices of caution and conscience and constraint.
She lay down beside him on the roof below the stars and let him wrap her in his arms.
SHE WAS WARMTH and softness and a desperately needed constant in a world that felt like crumbling shale beneath his feet. He’d wanted his memory back. Now he had it—at least, part of it—and he’d been clinging to sanity ever since.
He buried his hands in her hair and kissed the top of her head when she laid her cheek against his chest. She was the one thing that held him together. She was the one thing that mattered in a moment that now seemed inevitable. She, who had given up so much for him, now offered the most selfless gift of all. And damn him for a selfish bastard, he was going to take it.
He knew what that made him, and still he took it. Couldn’t not take it as he ran his hand over the gentle curve of her hip, gripped the soft cloth of her nightgown, and slid it up to her waist—and died a little for the exquisite tactile sensation of his rough fingers stroking warm, pliant flesh.
For long, indulgent moments, he lost himself in the feel of her skin. In the tender kisses she pressed to his jaw. In the promise of her gentle hands that finally touched him as a lover.
Right, wrong, he couldn’t make himself care. He could only feel. For the first time since he’d climbed out of that hole in her kitchen, he quit thinking of the months of isolation in another hole—two hundred fifty-five days in that other hole—that had been both horror and haven because it provided sanctuary from the beatings and the mind games that had him begging them to do it. To just shoot him. Or hang him. Or poison him. Just do it, instead of standing him before a firing squad, or slipping a noose over his neck, or holding his head under water until he was all but drowned… day after day after day.
He would not think of that now. He was here now. He was with her now. He was safe now. And she,
Whispering his name like a prayer, knowing he needed to hear it, she knelt over him and lifted her gown over her head. Starlight and black night framed her slim shoulders and narrow waist, shadowed the lush flare of her hips. Moonlight kissed her breasts, and she shivered, her abdominal muscles clenching, her perfect dark nipples peaking. Her hair fell over her shoulders, silken and sweet-smelling and seductive.
She made him breathless, weightless in body and mind. She made him believe that in this moment, life was beautiful and good, as he crushed handfuls of her hair in his hands, then filled his palms with her breasts and indulged in the sweet mercy of such incredible softness.
“I need you in my mouth,” he whispered on a low groan, and pulled her slowly toward him. With his thumb and index finger framing her breast, he guided her nipple to his mouth and suckled.
Nothing tasted this good. Nothing responded so completely. Velvet-smooth, then diamond-hard. He groaned again and feasted, aware of another level of pleasure as she untied his trousers, opened them, and took him into her hands.
He arched his hips on a gasp and pressed his erection deeper into her touch, awash in her tremulous smile, her soft eyes, and the boldness with which she caressed him.
Too much. Too good. And still he needed more. He fit his hands around her waist and eased her on top of him. She melted over him like sacred oil, fragrant and priceless and healing, as she guided him inside her.
Chapter 18
JESS HAD NEVER BEEN a clock watcher until Ty appeared in her life. When J.R. had deployed, orders came without warning, and he’d pack a go bag and be gone. Six or nine months later, he’d show up again. Exhausted, ten to fifteen pounds lighter, still revved from a mission he couldn’t discuss. On either end, she’d never had any heads-up or warning. And there’d been no point in marking time.
But after a three-week absence, Ty had called from Minneapolis to tell her his plane was due in the Falls in less than an hour. She hadn’t been able to keep her attention from the store clock since, as if willing it to move faster would make it do so.
“How much do you want me to mark down these shirts, boss?”
By mid-September, kids were back in school, and the families who bought store merchandise were back home settling down to normal life. Only the diehard fishermen braved the cold weather that sometimes set in in the fall, so business had slowed. Fall markdowns were status quo.
“Go ahead and make them thirty percent off,” she told Kayla, who had also gone back to college in Duluth but came home on weekends to see her folks and to help Jess with the heavier weekend business. “Let’s move as much as we can to make room for the spring shipment.”
She went back to figuring her quarterly taxes—which seemed to come around a lot more often than quarterly, especially since revenues would be lean until spring—when her phone rang.
“How’s my favorite shopkeeper?”
He laughed. “At Whispering Pines. Drive down. I want to show you something.”
“What are you doing at Whispering Pines?”
“Drive down,” he repeated. “I know Kayla’s there, because I already talked to her.” He hung up.
“What do you know that I don’t?” she accused Kayla.
“Loose lips sink ships. That’s all you’re going to get out of me.”
“I could fire you, you know.”
“Yeah, sure, fine. Now, get going. Only a fool would keep that man waiting.”
And only a fool would feel this giddy.
“I’m taking Bear,” she told Kayla.
“You’re going to want to leave him, OK? And don’t ask,” Kayla reminded her.
“You are so close to being out of here.”
“As if,” Kayla shot back with a grin that had Jess shaking her head.
“I’ll be back in a few.”
“Wouldn’t count on it.”
She’d had enough goading and teasing, so she grabbed her jacket and headed out the door.
A bowl of brilliant blue sky greeted her, along with an afternoon sun that warmed the crisp September air. Fall was Jess’s favorite time of year. She didn’t have to run her legs off taking care of business, the leaves were turning, and the temps hovered in the high sixties. They’d already had one unexpected killing frost, so the bugs were gone, which made jogging with Bear every morning that much more pleasant.
As she drove down Gamma Road toward Whispering Pines, she passed Brad’s guide business. A few days after Ty had left for Florida, Brad had stopped by the store and apologized. That first visit had been brief and
