Chapter 21 Celine #2
As I stepped into the barn, my shoulders didn’t tense up, and my breathing didn’t quicken.
For once I wasn’t bracing, preparing for pain.
I didn’t search for exits or excuses. Instead, I was present.
All my focus was zeroed in on this moment.
On this barn and this man. They demanded nothing from me, and the relief that brought was incredible.
When he looked up, his attention landing on me, my stomach flipped. I opened my mouth and start babbling without thought.
“I wanted to say thank you.”
His brows jumped into his hairline, like the praise had caught him off guard. “For what? I didn’t do anything special.”
I almost laughed. The man didn’t have any idea just how special this day had been.
“You did,” I said, moving closer to him.
He plucked a rag off a shelf and wiped his hands, studying me as I walked toward him.
“It’s hard sometimes. Raising Julian in a world that doesn’t understand or accept him. A world that ignores his gifts.”
He dropped the rag. “Celine—”
“Wait.” I held up a hand. “Because of, um, past experiences, I am overcautious and overprotective. I wish I could keep him covered in a layer of bubble wrap to keep him from getting hurt. I know how cruel the world can be. And time and again, I’ve witnessed how easily people misunderstand him and mistreat him. ”
Tears welled in my eyes. My sweet boy was so gifted and special, and yet some days he walked through this world being told he was anything but.
“What you did for him…” I wiped at my eyes with the sleeve of my hoodie. “You made him feel capable. You gave him a complex problem to solve. And you helped him be brave.”
“It was nothing.”
“No,” I said, frustration flowing through me.
“It’s not nothing. What you did was actually quite significant.
This kid struggles to try new things, and novel situations usually send him spiraling.
He struggles to regulate when met with too much sensory input.
But today, he grew. So much. He tried new things and worked through problems. And that wouldn’t have been possible without the help of a very special adult.
Someone he trusts unconditionally. Someone who really gets him and helps him push through his challenges. ”
Josh shuffled closer, taking his hat off and smoothing down his hair, his eyes filled with emotion. “He did the hard part,” he said softly. “I was just there for support.”
He stood close enough that I could feel his warmth, yet he didn’t encroach on my personal space.
“You can take the credit,” I said.
“Nah.” He ducked, shaking his head. “Because none of this would be possible without the foundation you’ve built for Julian and the girls.
Yeah, I helped, but today was not about the pumpkin.
Today was the result of all the work you’ve done with him.
Building him up and supporting him during the hard moments. All the love you pour into him.”
I was fully crying now. I’d never needed to hear those words. Never needed anyone to see what I did every day. The care with which I parented and rebuilt my life. The progress Julian had made was reward enough.
Yet I couldn’t deny the way my chest expanded now. Because Josh saw me.
He looked at me with respect. Admiration. Reverence. Not a hint of pity.
He looked at me not like I was a prize or a conquest but a precious gift. There was heat in his eyes. But it was quiet.
His thick chest rose and fell rapidly. He felt it too. And the steady desire in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere.
He looked down at his hands like they held the answer to an unasked question.
I studied them too, those large, strong hands calloused from hard work.
And desire pooled deep within me.
Not fear. Not apprehension.
Because I wasn’t afraid of Josh.
But I was afraid of wanting him. Of how natural this felt. Of how quickly my trust and attraction had grown.
“I want to be brave.” I took another step, my toes inches from his, my head tipped back so I could continue looking him in the eye. I was consumed by his scent and his heat. My body ached to be wrapped in his arms. To be held the way he’d held me a few weeks back.
“Then do it,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Be brave for me.”
I gripped his shirt and pulled him in until our bodies were flush. Then I pushed up onto my tiptoes and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his lips down to meet mine.
He tasted like whiskey, his lips warm and tentative. The kiss was gentle. Slow and luxurious and maddening. I wanted more. Hell, I needed more.
“Celine,” he said, pulling back a fraction. “What do you want?”
I bit my bottom lip, my brain temporarily scrambled. “I… I don’t know.”
He put space between us, his hands at his sides. They’d never left that position.
My heart sank.
“Let me be clear,” he murmured. “I have no expectations. There is no pressure. I’m here now, but say the word and I’m gone.” Ducking, he ran his hands through his hair again. “Fuck, the last thing I ever want to do is make you feel unsafe.”
His words unlocked a strange sensation inside me. A deeply buried desire that ignited and began to burn bright.
I reached out, needing to touch him. To anchor myself in this moment. Was this what safety felt like? To feel desire freely?
I trailed my fingers down his chest, the fabric of his shirt rough beneath them.
“I want to kiss you again.”
The corner of his lip quirked. “I’m all yours.”
I cupped his neck and pulled him in again, smashing my mouth to his. The kiss was sloppy and hungry and thrilling.
A kiss I’d initiated. One I controlled. I ran my hands up his chest and over his shoulders, acquainting myself with the bulk of him under my fingertips. Anchoring myself to him while devouring his mouth.
When my lungs burned, I pulled back.
His chest heaved, his eyes wild. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “Yes. I’m great.”
I clutched his neck again, but before I could make contact with his lips, he asked, “Can I touch you?”
It hit me then that his hands were still at his sides, his fists clenched like he was restraining himself.
My heart melted. He’d kept his hands off me, ensuring he didn’t push past my boundaries.
“Please,” I begged. “Please touch me everywhere.”
Immediately, one of those large hands was wrapped around my waist, pulling me against him.
“You can tell me to stop any time.” He stroked my jawline with a thumb, then tilted my face up. “You’re in charge.”