Major Love

Chapter 21

Sunday

I’m not sure what Jason spends the half hour doing outside his workshop but I hear hammering and tires crunching as I lounge on the cosy guest room bed.

I flick to the next page in the Bible that’s been sitting on my dresser all week, just as I finally hear boots hitting the hardwood as Jason makes his way back inside.

“Sunday?” he calls up for me, and I hop down from the sheets, padding quietly down the stairs where I find him preparing dinner.

He gently nudges the barstool that he’s standing beside with his quad, a silent invitation for me to take the seat without him saying anything.

“What were you working on out there?” I ask, flicking my gaze toward the back of the house. From here I can only see the cosy nook of the back porch, so if he was doing something with his truck in the workshop then I can’t see it from here.

His gaze meets mine for a long moment, those stunning irises molten, before he returns his attention back to the stove.

Because Jason Coleson is the most thoughtful man on the planet and, knowing that I’m still a little sick, he’s making me soup.

“Had something to take care of,” he says vaguely, before flicking his eyes back to mine, a secret smile tugging at his lips.

I can’t fight back a smile of my own as I mock-gasp, “Other than me ?”

He chuckles at that, giving my shoulder a firm squeeze when he returns beside me.

He lets the chicken soup slow-cook as he fills me in about his winter projects, the remaining jobs that he’ll be doing before his large-scale construction gigs roll around at the start of April. He’ll be starting on all of the paperwork for them by the middle of March and, from the passionate way that he explains it in that beautiful deep voice of his, I can tell that it’s something that he’s really looking forward to.

In my eyes, all of the projects Jason has been doing sound like huge feats – from renovating Casey’s bar, to constructing an annex at his friend’s ranch – but I guess since he has so much experience under his belt, he thrives on the challenge of doing something with an overload of heavy lifting.

And we completely avoid the topic of his winter search-and-rescue missions.

We’ve been having some pretty heavy snowfall, so there haven’t been any SAR calls recently seeing as no-one has been venturing into the lower mountains. And I can’t deny the fact that I’m grateful for that because, even if Jason is a pro when it comes to riding the snowmobile, I don’t exactly love the idea of him consistently putting himself in danger.

He already did that for over a decade.

We stay in the kitchen while we eat, Jason standing beside me while I stay seated on the stool. He leans his large quad against the counter, holding his bowl as he finishes his soup, and I steal peeks at him every couple of seconds, admiring his sun-kissed skin and stunning irises.

By the time that I’ve finished eating I feel better than I have all week, my residual headache a dull throb and the pain in my stomach completely subsided. My temperature is still higher than usual but I think that has less to do with my cold, and more to do with the hot guy who is standing right beside me.

“Thank you for dinner,” I say, laughing when he literally bodychecks me away from the sink, easily grabbing the bowl from my hand and washing up so that I don’t have to.

“So, are we hanging out in here?” I ask, glancing around the warm open-plan living area.

During the day the house looks surprisingly sleek due to the snow-infused natural light, but later in the evening… the place looks so intimate, with its rich timber and fireplace glow.

Jason reaches around me and snags the hand-towel that I’ve been hiding behind my back, chuckling quietly when I try to wrestle it back from him, wanting to dry the kitchenware that he just washed.

“Darn it,” I pant in defeat, when he whips the towel away from my grip. “If you won’t let me wash up, at least let me dry the cutlery. It’s guest etiquette, Jason! And I’m a really good guest.”

A smirk touches his mouth as he starts drying our bowls.

“You’re a real fighter,” he murmurs, twin dimples tightening in his tan cheeks.

“And don’t you forget it,” I tell him breathlessly, hopping down from my stool.

His eyes flick to mine, and I see a flare of heat before he blinks it away.

Then he tosses the towel onto the counter and turns to face me head-on.

“Still wanna hang out?” he asks, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

I pick up the hand-towel and fold it into a neat square on the counter.

Then I smile to myself. I’m such a good guest.

“If you want to,” I tell him, my voice coming out light and gentle.

And I risk a glance up at his face again and find him watching me with a heated expression. His chest rises steadily as he towers over me.

“Yeah, I want to,” he says finally, and I can’t deny the excitement that surges through me.

Jason catches my happy lip-bite and a hint of a grin touches his mouth.

He jerks his chin toward the front of the house, where his construction gear is hung up, along with my winterwear that he washed and dried after he helped me back from Alpine Trail.

“Get wrapped up. Then I’ll show you.”

“Show me?” I repeat, and he pushes himself off the counter, his body right behind mine as we make our way to the front of the house. “We’re going out?” I ask, my brow arching in confusion. Then I blink down at my thermals. “Do I need to get changed?”

Jason lifts his thick black sweater from the rack and, to my surprise, holds it out for me .

He eases it down over my head, his movements gentle so that he doesn’t knock my ponytail.

And when I start wiggling my arms into the sleeves, he carefully scoops the rest of my hair from the neckline of his shirt.

“Jesus, that’s soft,” he rumbles quietly, in that deep gravelly voice of his.

Then he uses one hand to pick up my winter jacket, and the other to gently turn me around to face him.

I glance up at him as he slips my arms into the coat, the furrow of concentration on his brow making intrigue flutter in my stomach.

Then those heated eyes flick down to mine as he grabs his own winterwear.

“Are you sure that I don’t need to get changed?” I ask, so unconvinced by my outfit that I actually laugh.

He smiles at the sound and looks me over as he zips up his jacket.

“Definitely don’t need to get changed,” he confirms, grabbing my scarf from the rack. He gives the sweater a firm tug and adds huskily, “This suits you.”

Heat spreads through my cheeks as I glance down at the sweater beneath my coat.

Jason’s sweater.

And he likes the way that it looks on me.

He wraps my scarf around the nape of my neck and zips me up as I slip into my snow-boots, my escapade from using them as shovels having long-since thawed out with the help of Jason’s fireplace.

Then he tosses me my earmuffs and steps aside as he opens the front door.

I laugh as I glance up at him, giving him a playful narrowing of my eyes.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

I take a tentative step outside.

Jason grins and follows behind me, not locking up as we walk partway down the drive.

“This way,” he says gently, moving ahead of me so that he can take the lead, and he glances back at me over his large shoulder just to ensure that I’m following.

I have to do a little jog to keep up with his long strides.

“Wait, wait,” I pant breathlessly, not accustomed to the icy air after five days of Jason’s cabin keeping me cosy and warm. But it’s been milder today, meaning that the chill is actually tolerable, the snow on the pine trees sparkling softly as I pad quickly after him.

“Where are we going?” I laugh, wondering why his truck isn’t out front anyway. I keep my eyes on my boots as I maintain my pace through the deep snow.

I’m about to tell him that we forgot to lock up and that I’ll run back and do it for him, when we round the corner of the house and I come to a sudden stop.

My boots pause in the snow, and my heart stumbles in my chest.

Because his truck is parked up in front of his workshop, and a large sheet is fastened between two pines. A small outdoor heater is warming the tail-bed where there are pillows and blankets, and in the centre of the cosy quilts sits a little projector.

Which is projecting a movie onto the sheet set in front of us.

I lift my hand to my mouth, a soft exhalation whooshing out of me.

We couldn’t go to the Valentine’s screening… so Jason brought the screening to me.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, so quietly that I know he hasn’t heard me, my eyes blinking nonstop to withhold the incoming onslaught of tears.

Don’t cry, Sunday. Do not cry.

Jason turns around to face me, the darkness veiling my rising emotions, but the muted glow from the back porch illuminates him perfectly for me.

“I don’t have a tonne of movies on my laptop,” he admits. “But we could download a streaming service if you have a film in mind.”

He glances quickly toward the tail-bed, which he’s so carefully decked out, and – when I actually look closer – I think he’s even shoved a mattress in there.

I bite my lower lip and swallow, choking down the tears that are threatening to spill.

“If you prefer, I can turn the truck around and we can sit inside,” he adds. “But I think it’ll be warm enough in the tail-bed, seeing as it’s not as cold as it was last night. We’ve got a flask in there, if you want some cocoa…”

And he suddenly pauses, noticing my expression. I stare up at him with giant eyes as I repeat my little mantra in my head.

Do not cry. Don’t you dare freaking cry.

Jason blinks in surprise, instinctively stepping closer.

“Are you okay?” he asks gently, which only makes me want to cry harder.

“I’m fine,” I rasp, my voice even more quiet than it was before, and I bite my lip as hard as I can to try and distract myself from my feelings.

I can’t believe he did this , I think to myself, my gaze flicking over his shoulder to the outdoor movie screen behind him. Down to the tail-bed on my left, with a wall of pillows tucked at the back of it. The hot water bottle on one side, obviously there to make a warm patch. And I also see one of those tall heaters at the side of the back porch, right behind the still-covered hot-tub, emitting a toasty glow toward the truck.

I look up at Jason’s handsome face, that concerned expression on his brow making my heart clench.

“You didn’t have to do this,” I whisper.

But I’m so grateful that you did.

His chest rises for a moment, and then he rubs the pad of his thumb against my cheek.

“I didn’t have to,” he replies quietly. “But I wanted to.”

A rogue tear streaks down my cheek.

And then the whole dam breaks loose.

“Sweetheart,” he rumbles, his brow arching in shock, but before he can close the small distance between us I somehow manage to do it first.

I have to jump up onto my tip-toes to throw my arms around his broad shoulders, and he quickly understands what I need as he hunches lower so that I can embrace him.

In the next second, my snow-boots are swept effortlessly off the ground, and Jason holds me tighter, his warm palm settled against my lower back.

I swipe at my cheeks as I rest my chin on his broad shoulder, blinking quickly to try and remove the tear-induced blur from my eyes.

“I didn’t mean to cry,” I whisper, my lashes fluttering at the feel of his stubble. His palm strokes me more firmly and I add, “Blame it on the hormones.”

He chuckles quietly and turns his head, brushing a light kiss against my temple. “You got it, baby,” he rumbles teasingly, before carrying me gently toward his truck.

I pull back from the hug and look down at him, my heart thundering at the hunger that I see in his eyes.

He swipes his tongue over his lower lip, averting his gaze as he hunches down.

And it takes me a second to realise what he’s doing and then I’m laughing out loud.

My butt hits the soft mattress and I grin up at him as he helps me wiggle into place.

“Oh, wait! I’m on the wrong side,” I say quickly, remembering where he’d placed the hot water bottle.

“That’s your side,” he corrects me, and the truck lurches as he heaves himself into the back.

He smirks at that, which makes me bite back a smile of my own, and he nudges me back over to the right as he sprawls out on the sheets.

“But your hot water bottle!” I protest, gesturing to the area beneath my thighs that’s toasty warm.

He laughs and picks it up, before tucking it firmly back on my side of the truck.

“Sunday,” he laughs, his rough voice low and teasing. “Who d’you think I got it for? The hot water bottle is for you.”

My heart flips in my chest and, before I can recover from what he’s just said, he adds, “Plus, that side is closer to the porch heater. So unless you wanna sit inside the truck, that’s gonna be the warmest spot.”

If we had actually gone to Phoenix Falls’ annual Valentine’s cinema night then maybe I would have wanted to sit inside the cab of Jason’s truck. But, as it is, with just the two of us out here… with nothing but the evergreens and snowy mountain ridges as our company…

I can’t think of anything better than cuddling beneath a blanket-fort under the stars.

Jason watches me with amused eyes as I snuggle down into a comfortable position and then he lies back and bends one muscular thigh, resting it against the side-panel of the tail-bed. Then he hauls his laptop onto his outstretched leg.

He holds his bodyweight on the elbow that’s resting beside mine, the large swell of his firm bicep pressing against me as he types.

“I can’t believe that we’re gonna have a movie night in the mountains,” I admit, trying to hide my awe-struck smile by biting my thumb for half a second. Then I lean closer toward the laptop as he pulls up a streaming service and ask, “What’re we watching?”

“There’s this really good documentary about mountain bears,” Jason rumbles, and my jaw instantly drops, a half-laugh choking out of me.

A mountain bear documentary? While we’re in the mountains?!

I sit bolt upright as he chuckles, his gorgeous eyes crinkling at the sides.

“Jason!” I exclaim, giving him a rough shove against his pecs.

He grunts and chuckles harder, reaching up to gently cup one of my wrists in his hand.

“Kidding, baby,” he murmurs, those dark pupils glinting playfully.

“Not funny!” I tell him, although I can’t help but laugh a little.

My eyes flick toward the end of the truck bed, half-tempted to bolt back into Jason’s house so that I’m not out here in the open – you know, with the mountain bears . But Jason immediately reads my mind, lifting his large torso higher up and dropping his heavy forearm over my shoulders.

“I’ve never had a mountain bear come anywhere near here,” he reassures me, angling his laptop in my direction so that I can type in whatever I want to watch.

I look up at him warily for a moment before turning my attention to the keyboard.

“Never?” I ask.

“Never,” he repeats, and that arm around my shoulders draws me closer to his warm chest. Then he clears his throat and mumbles quietly, “May have had a wolf come around every now and then, but–”

“ What ?!” I exclaim.

“But it’s just the one,” he continues. “And we’ve got a mutual understanding of each other.”

“Jason!” I laugh. “How on earth can you know that it understands you? Oh my God, what if it comes tonight?” I ask, starting to panic.

I peek over the truck’s side-panel and Jason chuckles, his big palm caressing my shoulder.

“What if it’s here right now?”

“Yeah, I’m sure that it wants to watch a movie with us,” he drawls teasingly, flicking a glance at the series that I’ve pulled up on the screen.

It’s my favourite cowboy drama and it’s one of the only things that I watch in my downtime, because the Western vibes of the show remind me of the bar I owned in Nashville.

Between managing the finances, keeping on top of the staff, organising weekly country singers, and making sure that the bar was the perfect hideaway, I had virtually no time off back in Tennessee.

But this was the one show that I would sometimes treat myself to.

“It’s a good show,” I tell him quickly, and he offers me a comforting rub at the nape of my neck.

“Never said it wasn’t,” he rumbles, his deep voice turning gentle, that thing he sometimes does when he’s trying to show me how tender he can be. “If you love it, I’ll love it.”

“What if the wolf loves it, too?”

Jason throws a hand over his eyes, groaning with laughter as his large chest shakes, and his warm body shudders against mine, making my stomach flutter because we’re so close.

It makes me bite back a smile of my own, and I move a tiny bit closer against him, wanting to stay in the warm embrace of his biceps for the whole time that we’re out here.

He drops the hand from his eyes, smirking down at me before hitting play, and then the projector illuminates the sheet in front of us, stalling slightly as his internet connection takes a moment to strengthen. But then it starts playing the first scene and it’s the perfect match for where we are.

Jason grunts as the opening scene ends, leaning a millimetre closer to my cheek so that he can murmur, “Shit’s kinda dark.”

I laugh quietly at that, snuggling more comfortably against his chest, and his arm tightens around my shoulders, his fingers playing absentmindedly with my fluffy ponytail.

“Just wait,” I whisper back to him, although I’m not entirely sure why I’m whispering, seeing as it’s just the two of us out here. Unless the wolf is out here too, in which case it’s the three of us.

Jason makes a gruff sound as he stretches out against the pillows behind us, using his free hand to grab one of the quilts under his jeans and drape it over my chest.

I peek up at him with a smile and I see that he’s totally engrossed in the show, his jaw flexing as he watches the characters and a low furrow on his tan brow.

Not only am I a good house guest, I also have amazing taste in TV shows.

I set it to series one, episode one, and I’ve seen it before, but watching it for the first time through Jason’s eyes makes me enjoy the whole thing even more.

And, being honest, I was really careful about what I thought we should watch. I doubt that Jason has much free time and, when he does, I suspect he doesn’t spend it watching movies.

He’ll hang out with his guys, or go on hot dates, and I hadn’t known how to ask him what he likes to watch without expressing my ulterior motive.

Is it triggering for a former soldier to watch a movie that contains violence?

But seeing as he showed me the tools in his workshop I know that he owns a gun, which makes me think that he’s not triggered by the sight and sounds of them. It makes sense given where his house is situated, and I’m honestly relieved that he hasn’t been irreparably affected. Which is another reason why I opted for this show – because it kind of reminds me of Phoenix Falls, and it’s not too heavy on the guns and violence.

Or romance.

It's not, like, a really romantic show.

But I realise that maybe I spoke too soon when around twenty minutes in a sex scene bursts onto the screen.

The one and only sex scene in the entire show .

On the screen.

In high definition.

How the hell did I forget about that?!

My face glows brighter than Jason’s outdoor heater and, when I peek up at him, I catch him smirking.

Then his eyes flash down to mine and he hits me with a killer wink.

“So this is why you like the show, huh?” he drawls, his tone gruff and teasing.

“Jason, I swear, it’s the only sex scene in the whole season! And it’ll be over in, like, fifteen seconds!”

And after the longest fifteen seconds of my entire life, I slap my hands over my face and groan in embarrassment.

Jason laughs and hauls me closer, his fingers tangling up in my hair.

“Hey, don’t get all shy on my account,” he teases. “Hell, I’m looking forward to episode two.”

“You can watch that one with the wolf,” I whimper, only half joking, and Jason chuckles quietly as he gives me a rough squeeze.

He settles further back into the pillows, absentmindedly tugging one of the blankets around my shoulders, while I stick an arm over the truck’s side-panel so that I can warm my hand beside the heater.

“Warm enough?” he murmurs, his gaze flicking between my outstretched fingers and the show.

To my own surprise, I am. I don’t know if it’s because of the remnants of my high temperature, the winter blankets wrapped around us, or Jason’s sweltering body heat – but either way I am not complaining.

I wiggle my fingers and then tuck them securely back beneath the blanket.

Jason watches them disappear under the comforter and then he flexes his free fist distractedly before returning his attention back to the screen.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I tell him quietly, a little too aware of his large bicep placed like a pillow behind my head. I glance around our cosy set-up – at the hot-tub to our left, the moonlit back porch, and our toasty blanket fort – and I can’t help but ask, “Do you ever light a campfire up here?”

A smirk tugs at his mouth as he rumbles, “Yeah, the wolves love it.”

I burst into laughter, squealing as he chuckles and hauls me closer.

“You are so freaking annoying!” I yelp, shoving at his abs as he watches me with amusement.

He gathers me firmly against his side, flicking his eyes back to the show as he plays with my ponytail.

“I’m only teasing,” he murmurs, his chest rising steadily as I look up at him. “We have fire bans most months, although sometimes they’re lifted in the winter. This year, we’re okay to legally light one ’til March – at least, that’s if the snow is still heavy by then. And you don’t need to worry about wolves. With the amount of noise we’re making, they’ll keep their distance.”

And then a cowboy shoot-out suddenly blasts onto the screen and Jason’s body involuntarily tenses, his brow furrowing as he scans the scene.

I instinctively lean toward the laptop, fingers hovering over the curser as I whisper, “Do you want me to skip it?”

His eyes drop to mine and I watch him cautiously to gauge his reaction. But he just shakes his head gently and tugs me back underneath his biceps.

His lifted thigh bounces as the shots echo in the night.

And when the shoot-out is over, he reclines back with a contented grunt.

His striking irises meet mine, sparkling softly in the heater’s glow.

And he can see the question that I want to ask him. Was that scene okay for you?

“That was pretty straightforward,” he rumbles softly, and relief spreads through my chest, knowing that he can see something that’s a little violent and not be completely triggered by the past.

Whatever he sees in my expression makes him shift toward me, his eyes searching.

“It’s life, Sunday,” he says quietly. “Shit happens, but you know I’d never hide from it.”

I bite my lower lip to stop myself from whispering, that makes one of us.

Because I know that Jason would never hide from it – and back when I was seventeen, that was the problem. I was so traumatised by losing my step-dad that the last thing I wanted was to experience more of the real world – hence why I got a one-way ticket to Nashville, straight to the place that was the source of Cash’s happiness and love.

And ironically, Jason needed to do the opposite. Because his way of baring his heart was through being the protector. The unsung hero who would do anything to prevent anything bad from happening again, and therefore he put himself in harm’s way so that it wouldn’t reach anyone else.

So that it wouldn’t reach me.

I look up into his eyes and warmth spreads through my chest.

“Thank you,” I whisper gently, a smile tugging at my lips.

Amusement crinkles at the corners of his eyes and he shakes his head. “What for?”

And as I look up at him, I can’t help but think for everything .

“For this,” I whisper instead. “For letting me stay at your place when I was sick. For taking care of me on freaking Valentine’s Day. For being the most thoughtful guy ever, and doing me this huge favour.”

His eyes lower to my lips. “Wasn’t a favour.”

And then his large palm squeezes around my nape, eliciting a warm shudder through my body.

His eyes flash to mine and my breathing comes a little faster.

“I’m sorry you were sick,” he murmurs, quiet and gruff. “And I’m pissed that we didn’t get to do this on Valentine’s Day.”

“I’m not,” I tell him honestly, my voice light and rasping. “If we did this on Valentine’s Day, then we wouldn’t have been alone. Whereas this way,” I whisper, “I get to keep you all to myself.”

Jason’s eyes widen with surprise and then his deep laughter rumbles through the night, flashing me his handsome grin as he scrubs roughly at his forehead.

“Okay,” he laughs gently, hauling up his laptop so that he can click onto the next episode, his tan cheekbones flushing with pleasure as he tries to calm the new heaviness of his breathing. Then he drops his laptop back to the sheets and cuddles me closer, wrapping the blankets tighter around us.

“Do you think that it’s too late to head back to Casey’s place tonight?” I ask him hopefully, my desire to stay here all night about as subtle as a spank on the ass.

Those twin smile-creases cut deep in his cheeks, but he plays along and murmurs, “Way too fucking late, baby.”

I make an understanding humming sound as his large quad presses against my thigh.

“So… I should probably crash here, then,” I whisper, specifically.

He smiles as he continues caressing my neck. “I’d like that,” he admits, his voice deep in the quiet forest, and I have to press on my stomach to subdue the fluttering butterflies.

My breathing is laboured as we watch the rest of episode two, and I’m only pulled back to the present when something small and icy lands on the tip of my nose.

I squeak quietly and swipe it off, before glancing skywards in surprise.

“It’s snowing,” I rasp, and Jason chuckles as he takes in my expression.

“You’d think that you’d never seen it before,” he murmurs teasingly.

“I can’t help it!” I exclaim. “It’s been years since I’ve seen snow like this.”

We might get a little winter weather here and there in Nashville, but there’s no comparison to being surrounded by snow in the evergreen mountains of Phoenix Falls.

“Yeah, it’s pretty special,” he rumbles gently, before resting on his elbow and glancing toward the sky. “Temperature’s dropping, though,” he murmurs. “We should probably head inside.”

I’m about to protest and suggest something insane like camping out for the night when another snowflake kisses my nose and I lean forward, letting out a little sneeze.

Jason barks out a laugh that’s so loud I spin around to face him, and I give him a playful smack on the firm muscles of his biceps.

“Hey!” I protest, my cheeks blushing pink with self-consciousness. “It was just a little sneeze.”

“That’s the issue,” he says, an amused lilt in his deep voice as he heaves himself to his feet and jumps down at the bottom of the truck.

I sit upright and squeak as he grabs my ankles, hauling me to the end of the tail-bed with a rough jerk of his arms.

“What d’you mean?” I ask warily.

“Even your sneezes are cute.”

I roll my eyes and nudge him playfully, my cheeks flushing for a different reason now.

He steps aside and takes my hand, interlacing our fingers as I carefully dismount, and then he gathers up our movie gear, tucking it under his free arm before leading me to the house.

I release another tiny sneeze and Jason smirks down at me in amusement.

“It’s the snow,” I start to explain as he pulls open the front door for me, but then I cut myself short as his phone starts buzzing on the kitchen countertop.

We both glance in its direction as he closes up the door behind us.

Jason drops the movie gear on the couch but keeps our fingers laced as he walks us toward the kitchen. I follow quickly behind him, the warmth from his large palm making me shiver.

He picks up his cell and glances at the screen, frowning slightly as he scrolls through a barrage of notifications.

He spends a minute reading through them, responds to two, and then releases a sigh.

He drops the phone back to the counter and turns to face me, his expression torn.

“That was the crew,” he murmurs, his voice rough and gravelly. “The snowfall is gonna fuck up some of the plans we have for tomorrow. So we have a real early start if we wanna keep the projects rolling.”

He takes both of my hands in his, tugging me toward him while I make sense of his words.

If he has to be out early tomorrow… then we can’t start anything up tonight.

“I understand,” I tell him, my voice lighter than I mean for it to be.

And he pulls me even closer for a moment before swallowing roughly and blinking away.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “I’ll have some time off real soon. We’re at the finish lines with these projects and–”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” I whisper back, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze with mine.

“Sunday,” he murmurs, like he really wants to explain himself, but I already know what he’s thinking because I’m thinking it too.

I want this. I want us.

And if I waited almost two decades the first time around, I think that I can wait one more night for him.

So I take matters into my own hands by pulling away first, trying to tamper down the swirling in my belly when he instinctively steps closer.

“I’ll see you when you’re back from work tomorrow,” I murmur, my voice breathless in the dark glow of the cabin’s sconces. Then I drop my jacket to the floor as I make my way toward the stairs.

I’m leaving a trail right behind me and Jason is totally dying to give in, but the maintenance of his military control is almost as much of a thrill as him biting the bait.

I glance back at him over my shoulder and watch his broad chest rise and fall, his large forearms rippling as he battles with his own want.

I wonder what it would feel like to be the person he loses control with.

“Have a good night,” I call back to him, dropping my scarf as I mount the stairs. And as I start to slip off my thermal sweater I say, “I’ll be in the guest room if you need anything.”