Chapter 25
Jason
“You got it?”
“Like this?”
I glance down the ladder to where Sunday’s standing at the bottom rung in the snow, her gloved hands wrapped tight around the sides and her gaze holding steady to where the metal meets the wall.
I breathe in a steady inhale, pride skittering through my chest at her concentration.
“Just like that. I’m coming down.”
For all her fight and fear about what I do for a living, she’s got sniper-level focus and dedication as I descend the rungs.
The second that we pulled up to the ranch this morning and she realised that I was going to let her get a little hands-on with some construction work, she was instantly biting her lip and telling me that she wasn’t so sure. But when I showed her around the annex that Madden and I have spent the winter building from scratch, it’s like everything fell into place and she instantly understood why I’d brought her here. To show her that this job is based on trust, whether it’s sharing the load, or giving directions… or keeping the ladder steady as I mount it in the snow.
Because if my work is what’s keeping Sunday from giving us a chance, I’m going to rip that Band-Aid clean off and prove exactly how safe it can be.
I clear the bottom step and my boots thud quietly in the snow, wiping my gloves on the sides of my pants before tugging them off and dismantling the ladder.
Honestly, the annex is done, bar the one room that we still need to coat with protective wood varnish, but the point of this trip wasn’t about the actual work – it was about proving to Sunday that if you’ve got a good team then your work is safe.
I lock the rails back into place and then glance down at Sunday.
She’s got my tool-belt around her waist and my Coleson Construction sweater on under her jacket.
And that soft blush on her cheeks that she only gets when she’s with me, as I place my hand on her lower back and tug her gently forwards.
“You did it,” I tell her.
She tries to laugh it off, blushing harder. “I wasn’t scared of you climbing a ladder, Jason,” she whispers shyly, although, from the death-grip that she had ten seconds ago, she could’ve fooled me.
“Yeah,” I drawl, “but I had to warm you up before getting you on the snowmobile.”
“No way,” she laughs, and I haul her closer as she shoves at my chest.
“Yes way,” I rumble against her cheek, before brushing a kiss there and lifting the ladder.
I haul the ladder over one shoulder, slipping my forearm through one of the rungs, and take Sunday’s hand with my free one, twining our fingers together as I drag her back to my truck.
I toss the ladder in the tail-bed and then I’m walking her backward to the passenger side.
“You did so good,” I rumble quietly, palms caressing her hips as she hits the side-panel.
“I guess it’s… not so bad,” she admits breathlessly, and I can’t help but chuckle at her assessment.
Given how she was feeling yesterday, I’d happily take a it’s not so bad from Sunday right now and print it on a fucking t-shirt.
“Yeah?” I ask quietly, reaching around her to pull open her door. Once it’s open she dips inside and I wait for her to strap in before closing it behind her.
Then I’m rounding the hood and hunching into the driver’s seat, chest heaving when I turn to look down at her.
“Yeah,” she whispers gently, fingers toying with the tool-belt as it slips down her jeans and rests low on her lap.
I hesitate for a second before reaching over and enveloping her hip, the bite of the tools digging into my hand before I find the fastening and click it open. The belt falls away and she tentatively lifts her hips, letting me ease it out from under her thighs before tossing it in the back.
And then my eyes drop to hers, the tension in the cab so high that the windows start steaming.
I wrap a fist around the steering wheel, gaze sliding down her body as I work out what the best move is here.
Because, the thing is, if we go to my place, we’re hooking up. We have over a decade of history between us and after yesterday’s kiss, there’s no more fighting this. But I still want to earn her trust before we finally cross that line, meaning that I’m going to have to take her back to Casey’s, or I’m going to end up on top of her.
Plus, that’s another thing.
I need to talk to Casey.
Because if he comes home and finds out that I’m screwing his sister we’ll have a whole other problem on our hands.
So I lace my fingers through hers and drive us quietly back to her brother’s place, only for her to tell me to head to Haven’s instead so that she can have chick-time with her sister-in-law.
We pull up a couple minutes later and I keep the truck idling as she moves her hand toward the door.
But I reach over, stilling her fingers, chest pumping heavily as I decide what to do.
I gather both of her hands up in mine, bringing them to my quads as I look down at her.
Her lashes flutter, just as nervous as I am, but she’s letting me take the lead with this. And I’m grateful for that because this thing between us is… hell, yesterday she said it herself. It’s irreplaceable. And no matter how brutal my work-life has always been, this relationship is precious and I’m going to treat it with the gentleness that it deserves.
“I’ve got paperwork to do tonight,” I tell her. And I’m going to put my balls on the line to your brother. “But after I finish up with work tomorrow morning, I can head down here and bring you back to my place.”
Her fingers weave through mine and my chest pumps faster, wanting her closer.
“What are we gonna do at your place?” she asks.
First of all, we’re going to move her back in. But after that?
“You said that some shit went down in Nashville, so I was thinking that I could teach you a little” – I squeeze her fingers with mine – “hand-to-hand combat.”
And with yesterday’s fears behind us, her eyes light up.
“Are you serious?” she squeals, that rasping voice of hers making my quads flex.
“Yeah,” I rumble, laughing quietly when she yanks me down to her.
She wraps her arms tight around my shoulders, her chest pumping quickly against my pecs. And heat floods my body, making my muscles grow heavier as I pull her close, and I brush a kiss against her neck before pulling back, my eyes half-mast.
Then I lean back over to the driver’s side and try to put as much room between us as possible, so that she can get out of my truck without me getting my hands all over her.
I open the driver’s side and step heavily down into the snow, jogging around the hood to open up Sunday’s door. And the second that she steps out, Haven’s entryway bursts open.
“Sunday!” Tucker squeals.
Sunday laughs as her brother’s kid hurtles toward us like a little racehorse.
“Jesus, he’s fast,” I say, and Sunday giggles against me as she murmurs, “But if you give him a second–”
Tucker’s legs can’t catch up with the speed of his feet, meaning that one second he’s upright and in the next he’s rolling through the snow.
I shake my head, hiding my smile, but he rights himself pretty quick, flinging himself toward her.
“Oh yeah, he’s a faller,” Sunday giggles, leaning down slightly so that Tuck can reach up and cuddle his arms around her neck.
And something stirs deep in my abdomen at the sight of her with a kid – paternal instinct kicking in as she gives him a quick kiss on the cheek and tells him to run back to his mom.
When she stands upright again, I run a hand through my hair, and my chest swells to twice its size as she runs her fingers up my jaw. My stubble scrapes against her skin and my abdomen burns, despite the chill.
“Get in there, sweetheart,” I murmur, “before I put you back in my truck.”
Sunday laughs gently, her hands stroking my nape, and I push my fingers up the back of her sweater, massaging her firmly, showing her what I really want.
“You’ll come get me tomorrow?” she asks softly.
“The second I finish my shift,” I promise.
Then my heart’s thundering in my chest as she presses her perfect lips against my stubble, touching me more gently than anyone ever has before.
“See you,” she whispers up to me, the feel of her rubbing against me driving me crazy.
“Yeah,” I say quietly, releasing her from my arms when she finally pulls back. “Tomorrow,” I add hoarsely, dropping my forearms to the roof of my truck and watching her over the hood as she makes her way up the snow-covered drive.
Then I drop my head between my shoulders as the door finally closes, and I trudge toward the driver’s side, hunching down as I heave my body inside.
I glance at Haven’s front window for a long moment, before reaching inside my jacket and pulling out my cell.
It doesn’t matter if I don’t get any reception while I’m outside of Haven’s place, because the messages will deliver as soon as I set foot through mine. I just need to get this dealt with right now, before anything more happens between us.
I tap open the mail app, thumb hovering over the recipient line.
And then I type in Casey’s Army email address and click the white space beneath it, hammering out the message before I can doubt that it’s the right thing to do.
Because it is the right thing to do, so even if Casey doesn’t love the idea at first, he’s been one of my closest friends since back in high school and I know he’ll come around to it eventually.
He knows Sunday, he knows how I feel about her, and as my fellow brother-in-arms, I know that he’ll respect me for putting myself on the line like this.
I finish up the message and then run my eyes over it a single time, jumping straight in with no pre-amble because, as soon as he sees who’s contacting him, he’s going to know exactly what I want to say, anyway.
Might as well be honest about it.
Hey Case,
Hope you’re good.
Just gonna cut to the chase.
Your sister’s in Phoenix Falls, and she said some shit went down back in Nashville. We’ve been hanging out as friends, but you know how I feel about her. Was thinking of straight-up asking her out, and hope that you’re cool with that – don’t know if she’s got a man back in Tennessee, so for all I know we’ll keep it a friendship thing.
Honestly, as long as she’s happy, I’m happy.
Hope I’ve got your blessing, Case.
See you soon brother,
Jason
My quad bounces as I read it over and then I think fuck it and hit send. Then I’m tossing my cell in the back because like hell am I checking that thing while I’m cruising down these death-roads, and I rake my free hand through my hair as I make my way toward the mountains.
I don’t know if Case is even on base right now but, given the amount of time I spent overseas, I can make a good guess that it’s nightfall wherever he is. Which means that, if he is on base, he might have a computer handy.
By the time that I’m back at my place and I’ve packed all of my work gear in the garage for the day, I finally spare a glance toward my cell, my brow rising in surprise when I see one unopened message.
I shrug out of my jacket and make my way up the stairs, about to take a shower before I finish up the weeks’ paperwork.
And I pause on the top step when I read what he’s written back to me, my shoulders swelling with satisfaction as relief courses through my chest.
As long as she’s happy, I’m happy, too, brother.
See you sooner than you think.
Case
I rip off my shirt and make my way toward the bathroom.
Looks like I just got Casey Wells’ blessing.