CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
JJ—
Standing behind Rebecca, my arms wrapped around her, we gaze up at the town’s huge Christmas tree. A band plays carols from the town gazebo, and a choir sings along.
Joy is in the air, and my heart is heavy with an emotion I’m not used to having. It’s a warm, fuzzy feeling that wraps around my heart.
As much as I’ve fought it my entire life, I now know exactly what it is. I’m in love for the first time in my life. Real love—the kind I know will stick with me until I go to my grave.
All I can think about is Rebecca. Day and night, she fills my thoughts, pushing everything else aside, including the club. It’s a new feeling. It’s a powerful feeling. It’s an intoxicating feeling… and I’m addicted. One-hundred percent obsessed.
So much so that I arranged something special for tonight, and I hope Rebecca likes it, and I hope I don’t fuck it all up.
Once the ceremony is over, I tug her hand. “Come on.”
She follows along. “Where are we going?”
“Just over here.” I lead her to the other side of the gazebo, where a white horse with a wreath around its neck is hitched to a carriage.
The driver opens the door and tips his head. “Ma’am.”
Rebecca gives me a quizzical glance. “Is this for us?”
“It is.”
“Oh, JJ. I love it. I’ve always wanted to ride in a carriage.”
I help her up, and we cuddle under a plaid blanket, and the horse and driver take us around town, then west out into the snow-covered countryside.
Silver bells jingle on the horse’s harness with each clopping step.
Rebecca cuddles against me, and I wrap my arm around her, dipping my head to hers.
“Warm enough?”
“Yes, this is perfect.”
I’ve been carrying the words “I love you” like a physical weight in my chest, uncertain whether voicing these feelings will strengthen our relationship or frighten her away.
The words have nearly escaped several times.
It’s a risk being so vulnerable, and my heart pounds, and the words stick in my throat. I’ve got a lot to lose if she doesn’t feel the same way.
I’ve thought about every pro and con.
I’m sure I’m not the kind of man Rebecca ever expected and probably not the man she deserves. It’s one of the things holding me back. This girl deserves the world, and I’m not sure I’m the best man for her.
But I love her. No man on this earth could love her more than I do.
Will it be enough?
The fear of rejection is overwhelming. It forms a ball in the pit of my stomach. Staring down the barrel of a gun isn’t as unnerving as this feeling.
I know once I say the words and confess my feelings, the wait for her response will drag like years, and the emotional aftermath of taking this irreversible step will rain down on me.
What if she’s not ready?
It’ll ruin everything, and we’ve still got weeks until Christmas. Things will be awkward and horrible.
Every excuse in the book flits through my mind, and in the end, I chicken out and keep my silence.
If Rebecca suspects anything more, she doesn’t say so, leaning her head on my shoulder.
I rub her upper arm and pull her tighter against me, resting my cheek on her head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo.
Things are so perfect between us now, and I don’t want to ruin that, but being a coward is hard to swallow, and I know I won’t be able to keep my feelings to myself for much longer.
***
Rebecca—
This feels like something big is about to happen. It feels like this is leading up to something, and I mentally hold my breath, waiting for JJ to make some proclamation about his feelings—about us.
When he doesn’t, I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed.
I want him. I need him. Dear God, I love him.
Automatically, I slip into reciting my damn list. The one I wish I’d never created, the one that now fills my head at every turn, like a mode of self-defense designed to guard my fragile heart.
That damned internal checklist.
One, this isn’t a serious relationship for him. It can’t possibly be. I must be wrong. I must be reading too much into all the signs that seem so plain as day. It couldn’t possibly mean what I think it means.
Two, he still wants to sell the farm. And how do I get past that?
Three, he’s a biker. It’s part of who he is, just like his flesh and bones. Those brothers are family to him, more so than his own family. And I’ve grown to love them as much as he does. But will the club always come first in his life? Is there room for me?
Four, he’s still my husband’s brother. My brother-in-law is not supposed to be prime dating material.
Everyone knows that. What would people think?
And why do I care? Is it so wrong? Is he so off-limits that we can’t be together and have a future?
Will the townspeople point and whisper behind my back, saying, “There goes that Reardon woman—the one who went from one brother to the next.”
Does any of that matter when all I can think about is this man?