He was quiet, staring straight ahead like he was in a different world. When the plane started to take off, the jets blasting so loudly I felt the noise rattling my insides, I clamped my eyes closed and tried to find my happy place. No amount of intoxication could erase my dread of takeoff and landing. I’d learned that long ago. The beginning and the end was always the worst—the scariest part.
Jacob’s arm wrapped around my quivering body, and he drew me close. His head tucked over mine, and he pulled the blanket tight around my body, making me feel like nothing could happen as long as he was here.
It was a foreign feeling when it came to Jacob—feeling safe. Usually I felt more exposed with him, like I never knew what to expect or how to react. At the same time it was a new feeling for me to have with him, it was not a new feeling overall. I’d felt this way before, but it hadn’t been in Jacob’s presence—it had been in his brother’s.
Matt.
God, I couldn’t think of him. Not right now. Not now that I’d married Jacob and made things final between us. It wasn’t fair to Jacob. It wasn’t fair to either of them. It wasn’t fair to me either. I’d waited. And waited. And nothing.
I’d been wrong about Matt harboring feelings for me. I’d been wrong to harbor my own. I’d kept Jacob on the line, biding his time, for too long, and I’d finally accepted what I should have long ago.
Matt didn’t love me. Not the way I wanted him to.
So I’d agreed when Jacob asked me again last summer to marry him. I’d finally agreed to get on with my life and stop living it in some perpetual state of waiting.
I’d chosen Jacob. And sitting here beside him, having him comfort me and hold me close, confirmed that I’d made the right choice.
No one could love me the way the man holding me right now could.
Could this driver be any slower?! I leaned forward to check the odometer to see if we really were traveling two miles per hour like it felt. Surprisingly, the odometer still showed we were cruising along in the thirty to thirty-five mile an hour range.
“What’s up?” Jacob leaned forward with me to see what I was checking for—for the ten thousandth time since sliding into the backseat of the cab at the airport.
“Nothing. Just feels like we’re going slow.” My eyes narrowed on the odometer. At least I thought we were going about thirty-five; it was hard to tell. I’d finished more mini bottles of alcohol than a girl my stature probably should have during that two-plus-hour flight, but I’d made it and survived without going full-on psycho.
I’d blown past buzzed two mini bottles ago. Which meant my vision was a little funky.
“In a hurry to get somewhere?” Jacob’s voice was low, his words like velvet, as his fingers scrolled down my arm, brushing the side of my breast on their return trip.
The touch surprised me, making me shift in my seat. He’d barely touched me today, which was very un-Jacob-like. He’d barely let me touch him either, which was even more un-Jacob-like. It was almost like my new husband had grown some Puritan values or something.
But no. He’d just grazed my breast. In the backseat of a taxi. I cleared my throat when his fingers repeated the motion, this time practically cupping my entire breast in his palm.
No, definitely not a Puritan value—squeezing one’s wife’s boob in the backseat of a cab. Thank god.
I turned my head so I was looking at him. He was staring at me with something dark in his eyes—something almost predatory. The ache between my legs grew until I felt like my whole being was consumed with need.
“You’re making me in more of a hurry.”
He kissed the tip of my nose, his fingers still touching me in ways that were making me squirm. “Good.”
The warmth of whiskey on his breath broke across my mouth. The glaze in his eyes told me that I wasn’t the only one who’d drank a little more than they should have on the plane ride. But he’d only had a couple of bottles, which should not have affected Jacob at all. I’d seen him down ten times as much in the same amount of time and still have enough coordination to play a game of Ping-Pong with his non-dominant hand. It was strange that two baby bottles would be getting to him the way they were, but maybe it was due to all of the excitement of the day. He probably hadn’t eaten much, so those two bottles had gone straight to his head.
“Are you hungry? We could stop and grab something on our way to the hotel.” I scanned outside the window for any convenience store or late night drive-through that might still be open. Not that St. Thomas was a mecca for fast food and 7-11s.
Jacob’s arm wound lower, his hand lifting my hip so it could slide beneath me. He gave my backside a hard squeeze, pressing my body impossibly close to his. “I’m hungry for you.”