best she could, and it was obviously working for Jacob.

He grunted steadily as she applied hard suction, his body rocking like a wave beneath her. He was gripping her hair in one big fistful, but he wasn’t pulling on it. Just holding on.

She sucked him off until his body tensed palpably. Then he came before she knew to expect it, jerking his hips and letting out a long, uninhibited moan of pleasure as he came in fast spurts into her mouth.

She straightened up afterward, wiping her lips and trying not to make a face about the taste. His eyes were closed anyway. He was still holding on to her hair.

She’d never seen a human face as utterly replete as his was. She’d never experienced anything even close to the pride and pleasure and possessiveness she was feeling right now.

Toward him.

He dragged her down into a hug, finding her lips in a sweet, sloppy kiss. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he mumbled. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I told you. I wanted to.”

“You want me to—”

“No. I’m good. You rest for an hour or so.”

“Don’t let me sleep too long.”

“I won’t. I’ll wake you up. I promise.”

He pressed kisses into her hair. “I love you, sweetheart. You know that, right? I always loved you, and I’ve never stopped.”

She froze at the words, trapped with fear and joy and excitement and absolute indecision. When she adjusted to see his face, his eyes were closed, and he was breathing evenly.

He’d fallen asleep.

Just as well.

She gave him a featherlight kiss. “I never stopped loving you either,” she whispered. Then she climbed out of bed and left him alone to rest.

JACOB WOKE UP LESS than two hours later when Ria came in to wake him up. For a moment he was completely disoriented, unsure where he was or what day and time it was. Then it came rushing back to him.

What had happened in bed between him and Ria was blurred around the edges—a hot, intense rush of feelings. But he felt like a different man right now, and he knew exactly what Ria had done for him.

And only a little of it was the blow job.

He tried to express his appreciation, but she was acting a little skittish so he couldn’t get many words out. It wasn’t the right time for that kind of discussion anyway.

His grandfather was still alive, but just barely.

He took the sandwich that Ria offered him, and then he went to sit beside the old man’s bed until it was over.

It took two more hours as his breath grew faint and raspy. He reached over every fifteen minutes to check his pulse. It had always been there but faint.

But it wasn’t there anymore.

He leaned over to check his breath.

Nothing.

He looked over at the other side of the bed where Martha had been sitting all morning. The woman started to cry.

Unable to speak through the lump in his throat, Jacob turned to the doorway of the room. Ria had come in a few minutes ago. He’d felt her there, although he hadn’t turned to look.

She hurried over now and put a hand on his back. “I’ll call it in,” she said.

“Thank you,” he managed to say.

He felt a couple of tears on his face as he turned to look again at what was left of his grandfather. The man—the real man—wasn’t there anymore.

He’d been family. He’d tried his best. He hadn’t done right by Jacob, but he’d loved him in the end.

Jacob wanted to do better. He was going to do better. He wasn’t going to wait until the end to be the man he was supposed to be.

Nine

TWO DAYS LATER, RIA was standing next to Jacob at the graveside of his grandfather.

Mr. Worth hadn’t wanted a full formal funeral. Just a service at the graveside with a reception to follow. A lot of the town had turned out, spilling out in uneven bunches around the casket, plot, and Methodist minister. The folks on the outskirts weren’t likely to be able to hear the familiar passage from Isaiah or the prayer, but everyone knew “It Is Well with My Soul,” so the words to the old hymn echoed through the cemetery.

Mr. Worth hadn’t been a soft or friendly man, but he’d been one of the bedrocks of Azalea for a really long time, so everyone came to pay their respects.

Ria didn’t know how to feel. She’d known Mr. Worth all her life, but she’d never really liked him. She’d transitioned between fear and annoyance, and for the past five years she’d thought very little about him at all.

But she was worried for Jacob, who was stiff and silent beside her. The emotion he’d been willing to share with her he wouldn’t dream of displaying to anyone else. His handsome face was stoic. Set in an expression of unyielding passivity. She clung to his arm and could feel how tense the muscles were under the fabric of his dark suit.

As the minister began his short homily about the hope of the resurrection, Ria looked at the gathered faces surrounding them. Since Jacob was the only family Mr. Worth had had, she and her friends had helped to fill that place. Belinda was standing on the other side of Ria. Skye and her family were on their right, and on the other side were Madeline and her boyfriend, Josh.

Jacob didn’t like Josh. He’d told Ria the other day that he’d been selfish and mean-spirited as a boy—all hidden by his popular charisma—and the years hadn’t improved him. Jacob thought Madeline could do better, a sentiment that had occasionally flickered through Ria’s mind over the years.

But it wasn’t something that could be easily brought up to a friend, and if Madeline was happy, she wasn’t going to get in the way of it.

This wasn’t the time to be worrying about it anyway.

Madeline’s brother, Matthew, had driven in from Richmond for the funeral. He was a big, handsome, serious man with a thoughtful expression and

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