Sunsets at Seaside(82)
His hand slid up to the back of her neck, sending pinpricks from his touch to her toes as he deepened the kiss, and she fell into it. Opening to Jamie again was easy, because she’d never been closed, not any part of her. He breathed air into her lungs, stroking the hairs on the back of her neck, loving her mouth, deeper, more intensely, as salty tears slipped between their lips.
He drew back, inhaling as he touched his forehead to hers and exhaling her name. “Jessie.”
Her name carried so much love, it brought certainty. With her heart in her throat, she managed, “I know why I couldn’t leave.”
His eyes opened, hooded, cautious, as he kissed tears from her cheeks.
“Because I’m yours, Jamie. I think my phone had Jamie radar when I threw it over the deck.”
“Even after…?”
She touched his cheek again. “Even after. Maybe because of.”
Their lips met again, sweet and loving, as their bodies and minds overcame the crinkle in time that had parted them, filled it in and smoothed it out with every caress, every kiss. Her hands traveled down the familiar planes of his back, hard and warm, to the curve at the base of his spine, where she pressed, bringing his hips to hers.
“Jessie,” he whispered, as he trailed kisses over her dimples, down her chin, to the hollow of her neck.
“There’s no going back for me. The moment we make love, Jessie, I’m yours again.”
Mine. The most beautiful word she’d ever thought.
“You’ve always been mine, as I’ve been yours. We just took forever to find each other.”
And as they came together, she knew there was no threat of drowning when she was with Jamie, only a sea of pleasure, a world of love, and a promise of truth.
Chapter Twenty-Three
EVERYTHING REALLY DID look better in the light of day, or maybe it was just the view of Jessica sitting on the back patio wearing Jamie’s soft cotton tee, bare from the waist down save for her panties. Her long legs were tucked beneath her as she sipped coffee, her eyes on the manila envelope between them. The sight of it made Jamie’s muscles cord tight, but Jessica was relaxed as could be as she lowered her cup from her lips and lifted her eyes to him.
“It’s not going to open itself,” she said with a mischievous smile.
She knew he didn’t want to open it. They’d talked about this after they’d finally pried themselves from each other’s arms, briefly, at least. They’d showered and made love again beneath the warm spray of the shower, and they’d discussed the envelope again as they’d dressed—Jessica in one of his fresh T-shirts and him in a pair of faded jeans. She said she didn’t want to wear her skirt. Not yet. I like the feeling of being back at the Cape, where we could just be ourselves. We can deal with the real world after eight o’clock.
He liked that idea. He liked it very much.
While Jamie called his office, Jessica had retrieved the envelope from the car. He’d protested, not wanting it inside the house, but she’d carried it out back, barefoot and smiling.
“I have nothing to hide, Jamie. Let’s see what he’s found out about me.”
She was teasing him again, egging him on. He had no doubt that she had nothing to hide—he only wished he’d followed his instincts days earlier. But maybe this was what was meant to be.
“The last few days are like a bad memory I’d rather forget. Besides, if I see what’s in it, I’m going to get mad at him all over again and fire him.” He reached for her hand, the memory of the night before coming back to him. Watching her give herself over to him again, even after everything they’d gone through, all that he’d admitted, she still trusted him without hesitation.
He kissed the back of her hand, knowing he’d never do anything to jeopardize her trust again.
“Jamie, Mark did this because he loves you. I know that now. I understand that, and I can look at it knowing that and not be bothered, the same way that I know that you doubted me because of what you knew of people other than me. We can’t hold on to anger and frustration, or it eats away at us.” She set her cup down and smiled, then furrowed her brow. “I think, anyway. I’m not one hundred percent certain about this, but that’s how I’ve always dealt with my mother’s overbearing personality. She lives vicariously through me, and I know that, so I put up with it. Well, at least I did, until this summer. I’m done putting up with it, but it doesn’t mean that I’m going to hold a grudge or be angry when I see her. She loves me. She did what she thought I’d want, or what she thought would be best for me, and I can hardly blame her for doing what she felt was right. I get that now. It’s the same with Mark.” She pushed her hair from in front of her eyes. “I think I’m going to tell her how I feel. Clear the air, and let it all be water under the bridge so I can move forward. She’s my mom. I love her. I think you can do the same thing with Mark, can’t you?”