Chapter Seventeen
Mercy stepped into the cottage and listened. It was eerily quiet.
The sun was setting, and shadows had crept into every corner.
She flipped on the lamp and saw Jag. He sat in the chair, his feet propped on the corner of the coffee table, and a beer tucked between his knees. He was shirtless and his jeans were unbuttoned.
He looked tired and irritated. No surprise.
“You didn’t come to dinner, so I brought you a plate, Grumpy Sunshine.” She knew going to town might ruffle his feathers, but she didn’t see the logic behind his attitude.
He continued to stare at her.
“Are you angry because I had Bones help me pick up supplies? After all, you did ask him to babysit me, as if I were a third grader. Have you even stopped to think that you make me look incapable of taking care of myself?”
“Why would I be angry?” he said in a monotone voice.
“Great. You’re not angry.” She took off her shoes and wanted to fling one at his head. “How was your day?”
“Peachy.”
She sat down on the edge of the sofa cushion. Although she felt his attitude wasn’t justified, she felt proud of him. “The crew was saying you rescued that kid. He’s safe because you risked your life. That’s amazing, Jag. Are you celebrating?” She glanced at the empty beer bottles on the coffee table.
He set his half-full bottle next to the chair. “There’s no celebration in doing the right thing,” he said in a low, husky tone.
“For someone who isn’t angry, you sure have an angry aura surrounding you.”
“I’m not angry. I’m in my head. I want to be alone.” One corner of his mouth lifted.
“Really?”
“Yea.”
“That’s kind of hard in this little house.” She sighed. “You’re being ridiculous.”
He rubbed his forehead. “What you call ridiculous, I call keeping you safe.”
“So we’re back to that, huh? I was being safe. Good thing Bones was there to make sure those little old ladies at the market didn’t whip out their guns.”
“I’m not in the mood for your smart-ass remarks,” he growled.
“Maybe I’m not in the mood for your moodiness.”
“You never listen, Mercy. You’ve always been that way.”
He pushed up from the chair, grabbed the empty bottles, and dropped them in the trash can.
The rippled muscles in his back flexed as he reached into the refrigerator and grabbed another bottle of beer. The pockets of the faded jeans seemed to cling to his firm ass. Life would be much easier if she could deny the attraction.
But here she was, in love with someone who couldn’t seem to make up his mind whether he wanted her near or wanted to be alone. It felt a lot like spinning wheels and getting nowhere.
The indecisiveness was getting old—the hot-and-cold attitude.
She stood. “You have something to say to me, so just say it,” she urged.
“I did. You’re a bad listener,” he said without even looking at her.
“Whatever you say, Jag. You’re drunk.”
“No, I’m far from it,” he said steadfastly.
“You’re acting like I strode down Main Street and screamed to everyone that I’m Mercy Sams and have a bad guy on my trail. I did my job, you know, the one you chose for me.”
He set his bottle aside and ran his palms down his face. “This isn’t easy.”
“I don’t know how to make watching over me much easier,” she said quietly.
“That’s not what I’m referring to.” Dark circles lined his eyes.
“Then what are you referring to? Because right now, I’m exhausted and can’t figure out how to crack the Jag code.”
“Never mind,” he grumbled.
“What the hell?” She flung her arms up. “Tell me what you want from me. Oh, that’s right, you want to be alone. I guess all that time isolated on the mountain didn’t solve the ‘Jag Problems’.”
“I’m too tired to get into this.”
“Fine. We’re both tired. I want to go take a shower and wash the smell of food off my body.” She took a step toward the hallway.
“Do you want Bones?”
His question made her turn back, narrowing her gaze on him in disbelief. She could see the stress in the lines of his face. “I understand you had a long, rough day, but don’t overthink my relationship with Bones.”
“I’m not one to overthink, sweetheart. I’m pretty cut and dried.”
“We’ve discussed this. Bones and I are just friends.”
“It’s okay to admit that you want more. He’s a great guy.”
“Yes, he is, but for someone that isn’t me.” She needed to clear the air. “The truth is standing before you, glaring you right in the eye, and you keep denying it. Or you don’t want to acknowledge it. I don’t know why I have feelings for someone who can’t make up his mind whether he wants me or not. Is it that difficult, Jag? Do you have that many doubts about me? Us? When does the fear of never seeing me again become greater than your fear of commitment?”
“Mercy…”
“Yeah, that’s right. We shouldn’t be having these conversations because they disrupt your peace.”
“I need to be one hundred in, or one hundred out. This isn’t fair to you.”
“So you’ve decided you’re one hundred out?” Why did she feel a pain take up residence in the center of her chest? Why did she feel like she was losing a better part of herself?
“I’m wanting the best for you,” he said quietly.
Anger pulsated through her.
She crossed the distance. “I’ve learned a lot about you while being here. You’re punishing yourself, Jag. That’s why you isolated yourself from everyone. That’s why you still throw up steel walls to keep people at a distance.”
“I don’t know what you're talking about.” He leaned his hip against the counter.
“I think you do. I don’t believe for a second that your distance and rejection of us getting closer have as much to do with Mateo as they do with your fear of getting close. I realize the only thing you have to hold onto is that safety net.”
“Don’t read too much into who you think I am.”
She sighed and shook her head. “I’ve offered myself up on a silver platter, and you reject me. I’ve made my feelings clear. All these years I’ve had one hope, and that was for you to pull your head out of your ass and make a move.”
“I’m not relationship—”
“Stop right there,” she said firmly. “You must eventually stop using those excuses.”
He tore a hand through his hair. “Failing has always worried me.”
“You can’t call it failure unless you try and fail. And then it’s not called failure. It’s a life lesson. Please do what you see fit between us because at this point, I’m to the end of my rope. I can’t take the wishy-washy behavior any longer.” She took off for the bathroom in a huff.
She hated how she felt — alone and isolated. A tug of war of emotions was going on inside her.
She couldn’t keep exposing her feelings to him and hitting a wall.
Turning on the shower, she undressed and climbed under the warm spray, allowing it to massage her scalp.
After scrubbing her hair and body, she turned off the water and stepped out to dry herself off. She cuddled in the warmth of the towel as she stared at herself in the foggy mirror.
“Get yourself together, Mercy.”
Exhausted, she wanted to sleep, but when she opened the bathroom door, she found Jag standing in front of the bedroom.
“I can’t handle another argument, Jag,” she said softly.
“Today, I saved that little boy. I’ve never really been proud of myself or needed someone to validate me or my abilities. But today, I couldn't wait to come back and share it with you. It makes me sound weak to say this, but it’s true.”
The light streaming down the hallway accentuated the sincerity in his expression. Then it struck her. He wasn’t jealous of Bones. He was battling his emotions, and this was all new to him. “If I had known, I would have been here,” she said, taking a small step forward while keeping some space between them. “You did something amazing, Jag. You deserve to take pride in that. You are not only a soldier. You’re a man with needs. It’s okay to have emotions and to show them. It’s okay to be vulnerable.” She took another step, bringing her so close to him that she could feel the heat of his body radiating through her towel.
“I’m a man standing in front of a woman whom he cares for very much.”
“It’s about time.” She smiled.
“Mercy—"
“Don’t do that, Jag. Don’t make any more excuses. Or back pedal.”
“This is all foreign to me,” he said in a strained voice. “I never thought I would want to lose myself in a connection with someone.”
“No one knows what tomorrow will bring. That’s why it’s important to live for today.”
“I’m supposed to be protecting you. Not wanting you,” he admitted.
She brought her hand up to cup his warm, whiskered cheek. “I trust you.”
Then an invisible force struck them, and they came together. She pressed her palms against his chest and leaned in. “Now is the time to choose—one hundred in or one hundred out. I won’t settle for less, and I won't settle for being a side chick. You can’t choose when you want feelings and when it’s not convenient for you. They’re either there all the time or not at all.”
He took her mouth with his.
Alarms blared in her head, but she ignored them all. She needed his kiss, needed to taste him, to feel him.
He’d kissed her before, but this felt different. Before, he’d been teasing, enjoying riling her up. This kiss was full of unexpected energy. Maybe this time, he was allowing himself to feel.
She slid her hands into his hair. He made a growling noise deep in his throat—a noise full of need and desire. His bold tongue tangled with hers, and as she pulled at his hair, he hitched her up, pressing her against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his hips to push her throbbing core against him. The towel had lifted to her waist, and her bare inner thighs pressed against his bulging zipper. The fabric of his jeans scraped against her sensitive lips, causing her to squirm in response.
He kissed her harder, with more expectation and a ball of need. His tongue forced her mouth wider, and they became lost in the kiss.
*****
He’d never tasted anything better than her kisses.
But he questioned, What the fuck am I doing?
He wrenched his mouth free and stared down at her flushed face and swollen lips. She was a temptation, a spell he couldn’t resist. Could he give her what she wanted and needed? What did she deserve? What if he got himself into this and ended up disappointing her?
He lowered her to her feet but didn’t step away. He cupped her cheek, gazing into her striking blue eyes.
Some of the desire drained from her face.
“You’re overthinking again,” she whispered.
“I get carried away when I’m near you.”
“We both do, or did you miss that point?”
“I shouldn’t be allowing myself to go here with you. You’re a temptation I can’t resist.”
“That’s allowing your trained thoughts to lie to you.”
“I’m still a man who has a lot of healing to do.”
She stiffened and took a step back. Her demeanor changed, and her voice was sharp as she said, “Then you shouldn’t have kissed me.”
“I do want you. More than you can know.”
“But not enough to lower the walls. I'm tired of the hot and cold approach with you.” Anger took up real estate again in her expression.
“I’m a man who wants to do right, Mercy.”
Her eyes flickered with pain. “I don’t think you know what right is.”
“I know what’s wrong.”
“So now this is wrong?” She laughed, but it came from a place of frustration. She turned and stomped toward the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
He fucked up again.
What the hell was wrong with him?
He shoved his hands into his front pockets and groaned. He had the most fantastic woman willing to give him a chance, and why did he back off?
He didn’t want to take advantage when he had no clue where things would go.