Chapter 22
Aubrey
I’m restless all night, unable to get comfortable but also obsessing over the events of the past twenty-four hours.
Jamie left behind his life and his three billion plants to give us a chance.
I didn’t ask for it, he just did it, knowing what he’s in for—including me carrying a child that isn’t his.
My entire life, I’ve catered to everyone else.
Growing up in an affluent family, it was expected that the only reason I would go to college was to bag a rich husband.
When I think back to my early twenties, I checked that box, but more than that, I found my best friend and a chance to change the world.
Through all of it—my teens, my college years, graduate school, post-divorce—I’ve never been in love. At least not how Olivia loves Isaac.
Whatever this is with Jamie is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Since the moment we met, there’s been no games, no guessing. He’s been clear about his intentions from the first night we met. Pushing him away was easy, or at least I thought it was, but I hated every minute of it.
I can’t sleep and make my way to the kitchen and start my hot water kettle. Perusing my tea selection, nothing seems to stand out as a good option. What I want is a dirty martini with four olives and to be plowed into a mattress. Neither are happening tonight, so chamomile it is.
Once I’ve poured the water over the tea bags, I open one of my social media apps and scroll.
Tracy has really done an incredible job with Olivia’s official page, and it’ll only get better with Jamie leading her team.
California loves Livy, and based on the comments, so does the rest of the world.
Kristin’s right and my best friend could very well end up running for President after a few terms as Governor.
After a few dunks of the bags, I set the tea aside and start a five-minute timer, then rest my elbows on the counter, clicking on the search bar.
It’s been weeks since I’ve internet-stalked Jamie, but my app knows what I’m up to, only typing three letters before he’s the first option to click on.
There’s a little green dot indicating he’s online.
It’s three in the morning, why the fuck is he awake?
Without second thought, I click the little message button and type.
Why are you up?
It shows read within two seconds and I quickly exit out of the app.
If he asks tomorrow, I’ll just claim I was half-asleep when I sent it.
Placing my phone screen-side down, I dip my tea bag a few more times.
I’m not sure if it actually helps to steep the tea, but it feels right.
On the last dunk, my phone vibrates, startling me.
It has to be Jamie, and I slowly turn my phone, willing it to just be a spam text from a retailer.
Of course it isn’t, it’s a video call. I can’t even say that this is the unsexiest he’s ever seen me—I’m pretty sure the face mask takes the cake.
I blow out a long breath and click the little green button. His room is dark; the only light illuminating his face is from the phone screen. And, of course, it just makes him even more handsome.
“Sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you,” I offer, adjusting my top to ensure my tits aren’t hanging out.
“You didn’t. I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. It’s a shame, because I was dreaming about a beautiful redhead lying next to me.”
Despite it being one of the cheesiest lines I’ve ever heard, I still can’t help but chuckle at his adorable comment. “Okay, Romeo, why are you really awake?”
“I’m serious. I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.”
“Me either,” I quietly admit, then hold up my mug. “I made some tea.”
“I hope it helps; you have that meeting with the emergency services department in the morning.”
“Fuck, I know,” I groan.
Jamie shifts and it shines a little light on his neck tattoos. I unconsciously bite my lip, forgetting I’m on camera until he asks, “What has you all hot and bothered?”
“Nothing,” I squeak, then jump as my timer goes off.
As I pull the tea bag out of the warm water, I consider admitting the truth, that my mind won’t shut off and I’m horny as hell.
It wouldn’t do me any good. He wouldn’t laugh at me, but it isn’t as if he could magically stop by again.
Even if he did, I’d feel like I’m using him. “I should get to bed.”
“Want me to stay on with you until you fall asleep?”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll probably finish my tea and have a little fun with my vibrator.” While I say it in jest, it’s actually the best idea I’ve had all night.
“All right, I’m getting up. Where are my pants?”
“Stay there,” I laugh, grabbing my phone in one hand and my mug in the other as I make my way back to the bedroom. “I promise if I decide to play, I’ll call you.”
“I’m literally down the street. I can be there in like ten minutes and fuck you myself.”
“And that’s exactly why you need to stay there. If we’re really going to try to have a real relationship, I can’t have you bending me over every time I’m horny.”
His voice is low and gravelly as he admits, “You know you just made me hard by saying that.”
“I’d bet you were hard before you even called me.” I set down my mug and slide into bed, enjoying the flirting a bit too much.
“You’d win that bet, but if you’re going to slip your hand between your legs and touch yourself thinking of me, you can’t blame me for fisting myself until I come all over my chest.”
I sip my tea, speaking into the mug, “But would you be thinking of me when you did it?”
“Since the first night we met, it’s only been you.”
Do. Not. Swoon. “All right, well, you’re right and I need to get some rest before the fire season strategy meeting with emergency services.”
“Sleep well. I’ll see you in a few hours, mama.”
“Night.”
We hang up and a few seconds later there’s a text from him.
Jamie
Wear jewel tones tomorrow. Sapphire blue or maybe a plum color. It’ll make you the focus of any photos taken.
I don’t want to be the center of attention.
Even if you weren’t supposed to be representing Olivia, you’re magnetic and will be the center of attention regardless.
He sets his phone to Do Not Disturb, which seems to be his default when he doesn’t want me to argue with him.
With his suggestion in mind, I mentally catalogue every outfit I own, and smile to myself as I settle on a dark amethyst linen dress I know will do the job.
Emerald would look best on me but I’m always afraid someone could use it as greenscreen and put anything on my dress.
I get up to set it out for tomorrow with a pair of black heels, then settle back into bed.
After finishing my tea, I pull my comforter up to my chin, shifting to get comfortable.
I’m a little more relaxed, but there’s a good chance I’ll be up for the next few hours before my alarm goes off.
As I’m reaching for the light on my bedside table, my phone illuminates and buzzes with a text. Unable to help myself, I check it.
Jamie
Open your door.
I’d already convinced myself that shutting down his irresistible flirting was the best choice, but I’m not going to leave him out in the hall in the middle of the night. I fling back the comforter and pad off into the living room, checking the peephole before opening the door.
“You should be in bed.”
“Should is the key word,” he sighs, but an adorable little smirk tilts his lips. “I only brought my clothes for tomorrow.”
Jamie holds up a suit bag, and even without knowing what the hell he has planned, there’s no way I’ll tell this man no. I open the door wider, and once he enters, he folds the bag over one of my dining chairs as I lock up.
“I have a closet, you know.” I snag it from the chair and march into my bedroom, hanging it in my closet. I expect him to follow me, but when I turn around, he’s not there. I return to the living room and he’s leaning against my dining table. “So… what are you doing here?”
“Come on. We need to get some sleep.” He pushes off the table and takes my hand, guiding me back into my bedroom. As he pulls back the comforter, he insists, “You need your rest.”
Confident I’ll wake up to a dick in my pussy at some point tonight, I eagerly get into bed when I really should tell him to go back to the hotel.
He rounds it, then strips off his jeans and tosses them aside.
Gripping the nape of his shirt, he pulls it over his head, tossing it next to his pants, then gets in bed with me, turning off his phone before placing it on the other nightstand.
None of this makes sense. I ask again, “What are you doing here?”
As he shifts onto his back, he offers an outstretched arm and pats his chest. “Get comfortable. I’m not going to be able to sleep until I know you’re already out.”
I turn out the light and move closer, resting my cheek on his firm chest. Jamie wraps his arm around me, pulling me to him.
It’s a risk, but I sling my leg over his, making him my own personal body pillow.
His slow strokes up and down my arm are soothing, not sexual, lulling me to sleep.
His breathing evens out, and I instinctively snuggle closer.
“Thank you,” I murmur sleepily. I haven’t felt this comfortable since I left Canada, and there's exactly one reason why—Jamie. I shouldn’t get attached to spending the night with him, but there’s no harm in indulging myself tonight.
He kisses the top of my head, keeping his lips pressed against my hair as he whispers, “From now on, let me take care of you.”
I pretend to doze off as his promise ruminates with me.
As a divorced woman, I’ll never let Jamie take care of me financially; I’ll never let him be a duplicate of my ex.
I don’t want money to ever be an issue, and I have no intention of leaving my job.
But if he wants to feed my soul, I’ll let him.