If Tomorrow Never Comes

Chapter Twenty-Five Elliott

Chapter Twenty-Five

Elliott

Elliott woke up with a dog at her feet and a large, naked man at her back.

Hank sensed she was awake and immediately thumped his tail on the mattress. Smiling, Elliott held her index finger up to her lips.

“Shh,” she whispered. “You’ll wake your dad.”

Jamie shifted behind her and tightened his grip around her waist. “Too late.”

Her stomach dipped at his low, sexy, sleep-tinged voice. One of his knees slid between hers and he brushed her hair back, nuzzling at her neck.

Her body came alive immediately, warming her from the inside out. She rolled over to face him, and they both stopped moving for a few seconds, heads on fluffy pillows, just looking at each other.

“Good morning,” she said, a huge smile spreading across her face.

“Good morning, beautiful.” His large hand came to rest on her cheek, and there wasn’t even a trace of awkwardness this morning after.

A tightness clenched inside her chest as her heart throbbed, permeated with emotion. Mostly extreme happiness, some disbelief she was actually here in his arms, and a small measure of apprehension.

It felt too good to be true.

He slid closer and kissed her softly. “I can’t believe I’m waking up next to you.”

She closed her eyes and ran her hand up and down the smooth, hard muscles of his back. “Me either.”

Their lips came together again, and her stomach filled with the fluttering of a thousand butterflies. She thought back to last night and how perfect it had been. Jamie was attentive and considerate, constantly asking what felt good and if she wanted something different.

She couldn’t think of a single thing that hadn’t felt wonderful. They’d smiled and laughed, and been serious and focused. Her cheeks heated at the memory of his body stretched taut over hers, his face twisted with pleasure and determination as he moved.

It had been just like her dream, but better.

He grinned at her. “Whatcha thinking about?”

Her eyelids fluttered. “What? Nothing.”

“You’re blushing.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Fine. I was just comparing last night to the time I dreamed about us doing ... that.”

His smile widened. “Your dreams were like that, huh?”

Her face flamed hotter. “The best one was. We were, um ... in the back seat of your truck.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Really? That sounds cramped.”

“You were pretty resourceful and made it work just fine.”

“Sounds like me.” He pressed a kiss to her jaw. “But please tell me the real thing was better. I can’t let Dream Jamie win this one.”

“Dream Jamie did some good work, but you won fair and square.” She trailed her hands down his chest and abs, and his muscles contracted as she passed over the ridges. “Honestly, how are you this sexy?”

“I should ask you the same thing.” He rolled on top of her, caging her in between his forearms and thighs. He met her gaze. “I’m crazy about you.”

Jamie kissed her lips, then worked his way down her throat. He trailed his tongue along her collarbone, then stopped at her upper chest. Shifting to one side, he brought his hand up and traced the pads of his fingers over her port.

“Will you have this forever?”

“No. I hope not, anyway,” she said, glancing down at his fingers brushing the device buried under her skin. “I probably should have had it taken out by now. I’ve just been scared to.”

His hazel eyes grew concerned. “Because you’re worried you might need it again?”

She nodded. “I got it out after my first remission, and the cancer came back, and I had to get a new one anyway. I guess I’m just waiting until I feel confident I beat it this time.”

“What do you think that will take? For you to feel good about it?”

“I’m not sure. The hundred-day mark after a transplant is a big milestone. So is a year, and I passed both of those. But I still don’t feel ready. I was cancer-free for several years the first time before it came back.”

“Didn’t you say a transplant is supposed to work better than what you had before?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t know what else to say. Had no explanation for why she let fear rule her, or why she still had this underlying feeling something would go wrong eventually.

Jamie didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t push her for more information or try to convince her everything would be fine. He couldn’t promise that, and she appreciated the fact he wouldn’t say the empty words when he had no control over the outcome. He simply brushed his lips over her skin, right there, where needles had pierced through so many times she’d lost count.

“Whatever happens, I’ll be here.”

She shifted upward and kissed him hard, and as they moved around the bed, lost in each other, Hank whined and jumped off.

Jamie laughed and Elliott glanced at him worriedly. “Do we need to let him out?”

He shook his head and buried his face in her neck. “Nope. I snuck him out around three in the morning, after you woke me up for round two.”

Elliott bit her lip. “Oh.”

“Now, where were we?”

Jamie made love to her once more before they got out of bed. Elliott’s legs were a little wobbly, and he chuckled when she slowly made her way to the kitchen.

He handed her a cup of coffee with a smug grin.

She arched a brow. “Proud of yourself?”

“That I’m a little dehydrated, my back hurts, and you’re having trouble walking? Hell, yes.”

She pursed her lips and sat at the kitchen table. Hank was by her side right away and lay his head on her thigh.

Jamie sat across from her and frowned. Hank looked up and flicked his brown eyes between them for a few seconds, as if trying to decide who he should sit by.

“I know, bud. I don’t like this, either.”

Jamie stood and scooted his chair next to her. He took the coffee mug from her hands and set it on the table before grabbing her by the waist and hoisting her onto his lap, then dragging the cup to sit before her again. “Better.”

Elliott spun around so her legs dangled to the side and sipped her coffee, admiring his disheveled sex hair over the rim of her cup. His glasses perched on his straight nose, and she couldn’t decide how she liked him best. He was sexy as hell with them, but when they’d been in bed last night and he’d looked at her with those hazel eyes so close and unobstructed ... that had been pretty wonderful, too.

He appeared to be studying her, too, and the curve of his lips and spark in his gaze made her feel warm and beautiful. Resting a large hand on her hip, he took a drink.

She tried not to worry about crushing his legs. “What time do you have to be at work?”

“As luck would have it, I’m off today.”

“I have you all to myself?”

He hummed into her hair. “Do you work at Starbucks today?”

“No.” She had other stuff she could work on, but ... it could wait.

“Can I take you out tonight?”

She bit her lip. “Like, out out?” There was nothing she wanted more, but there were a lot of people around town who knew him. Knew Carly. She didn’t regret coming here last night, or everything that happened after ... but she wasn’t quite ready for the world to know.

He studied her for a few seconds, understanding dawning. “Thinking we should lie low for a while?”

She lifted one shoulder, glad he didn’t seem offended. “Maybe?”

“You’re probably right. I wish I could take you out, though. On a real date.”

She leaned into his chest. “I don’t need that.” His body was warm and solid, and she could have stayed there all day.

“Why don’t we do it here? Get dressed up and have dinner and drinks. Pretend we’re out in Old Market doing the same thing.”

She tipped her head back to look at him, grinning. “I love that idea.”

“I can’t cook, though.” He sounded so disappointed in himself, she laughed.

“We can order takeout. That Indian place down the street.”

“They have the best tandoori.” His thumb slipped beneath her shirt to sweep back and forth over her skin. “I can’t wait to see what else we have in common. And how we’ll handle things we don’t.”

“Like the cheesecake thing?”

“Exactly.” He looked over at the coffee table, and she followed his gaze to the bright-blue cover of the book about ocean animals. “Can I have that book of pies now? I might find something in there I want Blythe to make.”

“I’ll think about it.”

He laughed, kissed her hair, and then inhaled deeply. “Damn, you always smell so good. Let’s have our coffee, eat, and make out on the couch, and then I want to take you to my trees.”

“Your trees?”

“Yep. Every arborist has a favorite tree. It’s a rule. I have two and I want you to see them.”

Jamie drove her forty-five minutes south of Omaha to a small farm. After passing a yellow farmhouse, he turned onto a bumpy, single-lane dirt road and continued on for about ten minutes before pulling off into the grass.

“This was my grandparents’ place,” he explained as he opened the door. “But I know the people who bought it. They hardly ever come out to this part of the land. They don’t care if I visit every once in a while.”

Elliott was glad she wore jeans as Jamie helped her over the wooden, three-rail fence and took her hand as they crossed a field of tall grass. At the top of a small hill sat two massive trees casting shadows on a single park bench.

“They’re white oaks. Probably a hundred and fifty years old, at least. The leaves turn the most stunning red in the fall.”

The trees stood alone in the field, and the solidarity only added to their majesty. “They’re beautiful.”

“I used to come out here in the summers after a long day of working the farm with my grandpa. He got onto me a few times for disappearing before the work was done, but I didn’t want to miss all the daylight,” he said with a laugh. “He died a few years ago, and my grandmother followed him pretty quick. He was a great man. I have no idea how my dad turned out the way he did.”

“I wish I could have met him.”

“Me too.” He squeezed her hand and started forward again, settling onto the bench and pulling her against his side. “One year on my birthday, they had this bench put in for me. The best time to come is at dawn, when the sun has just come over the horizon and the mist is rising from the field.”

“We’ll have to come back, then.”

“I’d like that. I haven’t been out here in months.” He leaned his head back against the bench and closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

Elliott lay her head against his chest, content to feel the rise and fall of his body and listen to the rustle of the leaves in the breeze. Her heart was like a sponge in water, soaking up the joy of being with him in this perfect moment. She wished she’d brought her camera.

She was so comfortable and warm against him, she startled when he spoke.

“This is a good place to share secrets,” he said softly.

“Is it? Bring a lot of girls here?”

“You’re the first. But I told myself a lot of secrets under these trees. Sometimes I came out here and said them out loud to no one and let the wind carry them away. There are some secrets I’ve never told anyone, and some I’ve only told you.”

She shifted to gaze up at his face.

“I’ve never told anyone else how relieved I was when they released me from the team. I’m never admitting to anyone else that I didn’t know narwhals really existed. And you’re the only soul on earth who knows I’ve read a Lisa Kleypas novel.”

“Not only that you read it, but you read it in one sitting .”

“I’ve never laughed so hard, rooted so hard for a shy girl who doesn’t dance—”

“A wallflower.”

“Right, a wallflower—all while being sort of turned on half the time. It was a, uh ... unique experience.”

He grinned and shook his head as Elliott laughed. How she was lucky enough to be with this man, right here and in this moment, she’d never know.

His fingers drifted up and down her arm. “So. What do you have to add to this perfect spot for secret telling?”

She twisted her lips to the side while she thought. “I used to love chocolate. I would have given Yuka’s obsession a run for her money.”

“Really? What happened?”

“Chemo. It changes the way things taste. Sometimes they come back, sometimes they don’t. And while it’s sort of a blessing in disguise because I know it’s not healthy, I sort of miss having that experience. I see the look on people’s faces when they take that first bite of their favorite dessert, and I wonder if they know how lucky they are. To be able to enjoy that.”

“The look on your face the first time I saw you taste our soufflé gave me a semi, so I’d say you have that to fall back on when you want to enjoy something.”

She burst out laughing and smacked his rock-hard stomach.

“It’s true.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said, still giggling.

“What else?”

She was tempted to sit up and face him when she spoke her next secret but thought it might be easier to stay where she was, head down and pressed against his chest. Her version of speaking the words into the wind.

“This one makes me sound like a terrible person,” she said.

“Some of mine do, too.”

She swallowed and clamped her eyes shut. “From the second I ran into you at that bar, even knowing you were with Carly, if you’d have kissed me I wouldn’t have stopped you.”

He stilled beneath her, and for a split second she regretted saying it. But it was the truth, and it was better he knew what kind of person she could be. The selfishness she was capable of.

Jamie’s fingers tipped her chin up, angling her face as he gazed down at her. His hazel eyes swam with some unidentifiable emotion.

His voice was thick and weighted. “I wouldn’t have been able to stop, either.”

“I’m glad we didn’t. If we’d crossed that line before, I don’t know if I could have lived with myself.”

He nodded, just barely. “I know.”

He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. Once, twice, then again. Her heart took off like a bird in a cage, trying to break free and follow their words as they floated away in the breeze.

After a few minutes she flipped over on her back, propped up her knees, and rested her head in his lap. She admired his handsome face as he slid his fingers through her hair, sending currents of sensation down her body.

She reached up and wiggled his glasses. “How badly do you need these?”

He shrugged. “I mean I could make do without them, but I have trouble reading street signs and stuff.”

“Yeah. That’s not important.”

He laughed. “I have contacts but they drive me crazy.”

“I love these. You’re so hot in them.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Really?”

“ Yes. ”

A few beats of silence passed, and Jamie smiled at her, an ornery glint flashing in his eyes. “Maybe when we get back to my truck we can take care of your fantasy to get laid in the back seat.”

“That might revoke your open invitation to come out here.”

He shrugged. “It would be one hundred percent worth it.”

They got back to the apartment complex midafternoon, and Jamie had shoved her in the direction of her apartment, saying he had to get ready for their date and order her a damn fine curry.

Two hours later, she’d showered, shaved, and lotioned and was back at his doorstep in one of only two dresses she owned. It was sleeveless, robin’s-egg blue, and fell to midthigh. The best part was the design showed off her cleavage but still covered up her port, which wasn’t easy to find. It wasn’t the most practical for a cool September evening in Nebraska, but she felt pretty and was only outside walking between buildings.

Jamie opened the door and her mouth went dry. He wore tailored gray slacks, a black belt cinched around his trim waist, and a crisp white dress shirt with the top two buttons open. His hair was perfectly tousled, and a dark-blond layer of scruff covered his jaw.

His chin dropped to his chest as he looked her up and down, and his mouth went slack. “Elliott. Fuck.”

“I mean, if you think you’re up for it again,” she teased, her cheeks heating at his obvious appreciation.

He wrapped his hands around her wrists and pulled her in. His body was solid and warm and smelled as if he’d just stepped straight from the shower. “I’m up for it, all right.” He bent low and kissed her thoroughly.

Staying in for a private dinner had been a very, very good idea.

A muffled bark came from somewhere, and she pulled back, breathless. “Where’s Hank?”

Jamie scrunched his nose. “I put him in my room. I just thought you might not want his hair all over you tonight. I wasn’t sure what you’d be wearing, and ...” He trailed off, passing a hand across his jaw.

“That’s thoughtful,” she said. “But I love him, hair and slobber and all. You never have to put him away when I’m coming over.”

His face lightened. “Are you sure? You don’t mind?”

In response, she walked to his bedroom door and opened it. Hank came barreling out, nearly knocking her down.

“Did that mean old man lock you away?” she crooned, kneeling down to kiss his head. “I’ll never let him do that again. I promise.”

She glanced at Jamie and found him watching them with a fond expression, but one of his eyes was twitching. “Is it weird that sometimes I’m jealous of my dog?”

Laughing, she stood and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ve got enough to go around.”

He’d set up his kitchen table with candles, and he pulled out her chair to wait while he dished out their food. The rich scents of cumin and turmeric filled the kitchen. He paused after pulling the containers out of the bags and unbuttoned his shirt cuffs. Elliott watched, her eyes growing wide, as he rolled up his sleeves as if he were moving in slow motion. Each movement of his long, thick fingers and every flex and pull of the muscles in his forearms was like her very own private striptease.

When he paused long enough for her to notice he’d stopped, her gaze snapped to his face. His eyes were on her, his expression hot. When he spoke, his voice was like warm honey poured over her skin. “Never stop looking at me like that.”

She exhaled a shaky breath. “I won’t.”

He finished what he was doing and set the plates on the table, kissing her hard before he sat across from her. They talked about her business for much of the meal, and what she’d been working on for Chantal. She told him about a food-truck doughnut shop that was looking to start a brick-and-mortar store in Benson, and who’d called her after getting her card from Blythe.

Jamie listened attentively and got excited with her, and she realized she seldom felt so acknowledged—so known —by another person.

“So I have a question,” she asked at the end of the meal, suddenly nervous.

He looked at her curiously. “Okay.”

“I was planning to go to Lincoln next weekend. To visit my parents.” She gripped her hands together in her lap. “Would ... um. Would you maybe want to come with me?”

A wide grin spread across his face. “Really?”

“Yes. I’d like for them to meet you, if you want to.”

“I’d love to.”