Chapter 18
Eighteen
CAITLIN
Jason wasn’t just taking his vows seriously—he was wearing them like armor, like a declaration to the world that Caitlin was his responsibility now. He drove up the narrow, worn path to his house, wheels crunching over gravel before he veered off, plowing straight over the freshly mulched flower bed. Dirt and bark sprayed in all directions, but he didn’t so much as flinch. The only thing he cared about was making sure that when he stopped, the passenger door lined up perfectly with the steps leading inside.
He threw the truck into park and turned to her, his blue eyes filled with something deep, something unshakable. “You’re not walking far, love.”
The words were simple, but they held weight. Before she could protest, he was already out, moving with that steady, determined stride of his, rounding the truck to yank open her door as if she were made of spun sugar.
She should have been annoyed. Should have rolled her eyes and reminded him she wasn’t some fragile little thing. But the way he looked at her—like she was something rare, something worth protecting—made her stomach twist in a way she wasn’t ready to unpack.
Jason extended a hand, but before she could take it, his gaze flickered to the wedding ring on her finger. A slow, mischievous grin spread across his face. He lifted her hand, turning it slightly to admire the band. “Look at that,” he murmured, amusement dancing in his voice. “Looks good on you.”
Caitlin huffed, fighting a smile, but before she could quip back, he scooped her into his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Jason?—”
“Shh,” he murmured, nudging the door open with his shoulder. “I’m enjoying this.”
The front door swung inward, and Jason hesitated just inside the threshold, shifting her weight effortlessly against his chest. His gaze flickered to the lock, and he let out a low hum of disapproval.
“In the country, I usually leave it unlocked, but that’s changing.” His voice dropped an octave, serious now. Protective. “I don’t want anyone interrupting us.”
Caitlin swallowed hard. There was something about the way he said us that made her pulse skitter. But she couldn’t let him get the wrong idea.
“Jason, I’m not really feeling up to… things,” she said softly, the words thick with exhaustion.
He didn’t even blink. Didn’t stiffen or sulk or let his ego take a hit. Instead, he just tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “Catnip,” he murmured, using that ridiculous nickname he’d given her as a kid. His voice was soft and patient, like he had all the time in the world for her. “Love isn’t something you fall into or something you do. It’s something you build, grow, and encourage over time.” He adjusted his hold on her, cradling her just a little closer. “If you don’t feel like it—that’s fine by me. But it doesn’t change the fact that I want you snuggled up to me tonight and every night from here on out.”
The breath caught in her throat. “Seriously?”
He gave her an incredulous look. “If you’re not in the mood, I’m sure as heck not going to push myself on you,” he retorted, looking almost offended by the idea. “I’d much rather you want to be there. Participate. Enjoy yourself.”
Something warm and unsteady bloomed in her chest. “Thank you.”
Jason’s lips twitched, and just like that, the moment shifted. The intensity softened into something playful as he leaned in, his voice dropping into a low, teasing whisper. “And now that I’m your husband, I get to look and touch.” His eyebrows waggled, and his grin was all boyish mischief.
Caitlin groaned, laughing despite herself. “Oh gosh…” she muttered, shaking her head as he carried her deeper into the house.
Jason paused just long enough to kiss her—soft at first, testing, but then deeper, as if he needed her to understand something that words couldn’t quite capture. And despite herself, despite everything, she melted into it. Her arms curled around his shoulders, pulling him closer, and for the first time in a long time, she let herself sink into the warmth of being wanted.
Jason shivered against her as if he was feeling it too. But then, slowly, he pulled back, putting a little space between them. His expression softened, tinged with something like regret.
“You need to rest,” he murmured. His fingers traced a slow, absentminded path down her arm before he stepped away completely. “I moved the bed upstairs after the last visit. Painted the bedroom, too.” His eyes searched hers. “Do you think you’re feeling up to taking the stairs, or do you want some help? Let’s tuck you in.”
Caitlin hesitated, then nodded. “Will you get my bag from the truck?”
“Of course, Catnip.” He ran a hand through his hair and gave her a look so filled with quiet devotion that her throat tightened. “I’ll always be here for you. Just say the word.”
She watched him as he moved, watched the easy confidence in his stride, the way he navigated the world with such steady assurance. And for the first time, it really hit her—not just the fact that she was married to the boy she’d once loved, but that he had grown into an incredible man.
A man who loved her in ways she never imagined.
A man who saw her, even now, even after everything.
She was still standing there when he came back inside, bag in hand, his expression flickering with mild concern. “Do you want some help?”
The worry in his voice undid her. It was everything—his protectiveness, his tenderness, the way he treated her like she was precious but not fragile. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and shook her head.
“Can we have some hot tea?” she asked instead.
Jason blinked, then smacked his forehead. “Oh shoot—of course.” Without hesitation, he dropped her bag and gestured toward the couch. “You stay here. I’ll make some tea. Maybe a little something for you to eat. You rest.”
Caitlin exhaled and something tight and unspoken easing in her chest. She settled onto the small sofa, watching as he moved toward the kitchen. The warmth of the moment settled over her like a soft blanket.
As she sat in the dimly lit room, the soft sounds of Jason moving around in the kitchen filled the quiet. The gentle clink of dishes, the rush of water filling the kettle, and the low hum of his voice as he worked stirred something deep inside her—something small, fragile, and almost terrifying in its tenderness. A thought that sent a shiver down her spine, not from fear, but from something far more consuming.
Slowly, Caitlin rose to her feet, her movements unhurried, almost reverent. She drifted toward the windows, her fingers brushing over the cool fabric of the shades as she lowered them one by one, shutting out the outside world. A sense of quiet intimacy settled over her, warm and thick like honey, wrapping around her shoulders and sinking deep into her bones.
And then she paused.
Turning just slightly, she glanced over her shoulder toward the kitchen doorway, a soft smile curving her lips. She couldn’t see him yet, but she could hear him—the steady rhythm of his movements, the unconscious hum of a tune she didn’t recognize but knew she’d never forget. He was making something for her, taking care of her in the way he always did, as if she were something precious. As if she mattered more than anything else.
That thought alone was enough to make her heart ache in the best possible way.
She let out a quiet breath, then reached for the hem of her shirt, slipping it over her head with deliberate slowness. The rest of her clothes followed, each piece landing in a careless heap on the nearby chair. She tried not to look at her foot, the deep bruising that lingered from what had happened, putting that horrible moment and the ones that followed behind her.
It was time for happiness, joy, and love. With nothing but the warmth of anticipation, she sank onto the couch, extending her legs in front of her as she waited, a sense of peace and excitement tangling together in a way that made her pulse flutter.
She didn’t have to wait long.
“Catnip, here’s your?—”
Jason’s voice cut off abruptly as he stepped into the doorway, the teacup balanced in one hand, the saucer in the other. He froze mid-step, his dark eyes widening to the size of saucers as he took her in—every inch of her, bathed in the soft glow of the lamplight. The saucer slipped from his fingers, hitting the floor with a loud clatter.
Caitlin bit her lip, holding back a laugh as his expression shifted from complete and utter shock to something darker, something molten.
“Um… hi,” he said, his voice rougher than before.
She tilted her head, pretending innocence even as warmth pooled in her stomach. “Hi.”
Jason swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Are you hot… or did you change your mind?”
“I changed my…” she began.
The teacup—tea bag and all—went flying over his shoulder with one smooth move as Jason flung it haphazardly behind him, landing somewhere in the entryway of the house with a muted thud. He didn’t seem to notice or care.
His fingers curled around the hem of his shirt, and in one swift motion, he yanked it over his head, tossing it aside. That smile—crooked, dangerous, and utterly besotted—was one she would never forget for as long as she lived.
Caitlin exhaled a shaky breath, her heartbeat drumming in her ears.
“…Mind,” she finally finished, her voice barely more than a whisper as he drew her into his arm.
This moment—this man—was hers.
* * *
Jason’s warm breath stirred against her shoulder sometime later, a deep, satisfied chuckle rumbling from his chest. Caitlin turned, her gaze locking onto his—only to find him grinning with an almost boyish delight, his giddy joy too big to contain. It was rare to see him like this, so open, so unguarded. The sight of it stole her breath.
“I can honestly say I never expected that,” he murmured, his voice rich with amusement. “Feel free to surprise me like that again.”
She arched a brow, her lips curving mischievously. “It was our wedding night.”
He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, but you just got out of the hospital.” He tilted his head slightly, studying her like she was some beautiful, impossible mystery. “I never anticipated any of this.”
Caitlin softened, reaching up to trace the strong line of his jaw with her fingers. “I never anticipated us getting married - ever.”
His eyes darkened with something unreadable, something that made her heart ache in the best way. Before she could pull away, he caught her hand, pressing her fingertip to his lips. A slow, teasing smile ghosted across his face as he nipped at it playfully, his expression light, almost boyish, a glimpse of the man he had been before life weighed so heavily on his shoulders.
“Why not?” he asked, his voice gentle but laced with curiosity.
She hesitated, not out of fear, but because the truth had always been a quiet ache inside her. “Because you never looked my way—ever.”
His smile faded, his expression shifting to something far more serious. “Oh, I looked,” he admitted, his voice low and rough with regret. “I looked a lot. But I was drowning, Cait. I had so many responsibilities, and I was afraid that if I looked too long, I’d drag you down with me.” His gaze flickered with old pain. “And then you were gone. One day, Matthew told me you’d joined the Navy, and just like that, you weren’t here anymore. You were living a life out of sight, away from me.”
She could hear the weight of it, the years of loss packed into those few words.
“At the funeral, when you returned, I was so hurt, so bitter…” He exhaled slowly, his eyes holding hers with quiet intensity. “There’s a lot I would change if I could.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, brushing her fingers lightly over his temple, feeling the faint lines of worry etched into his skin. “Same,” she whispered. “Which is why you never have to explain.”
His hand came up to cradle her face, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek. “You were the first person who really saw me. Not the weight I carried, not the name or the obligations—just me. You never asked me to sacrifice some part of my soul to be worthy of you.” His voice grew hoarse. “You were safe to me, Cait. And I can’t tell you how beautiful a feeling that was.”
Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she smiled through them, her heart stretching wide with something bigger than words.
“You were always the one,” she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. “Even when I was away, you were home. No matter where I was, I could close my eyes and picture you here—on the farm, standing in the sunlight, smiling.”
Jason huffed a quiet laugh. “I never smiled.”
She giggled softly, tilting her head as if to study him. “No, you didn’t,” she admitted, watching his lips part in playful offense before he mock-bit her shoulder in retaliation. She shrieked out a laugh, swatting at him, but he only grinned wider, his blue eyes dancing with rare amusement.
“Those smiles were rare,” she murmured, her voice turning softer, more reverent. “And so beautiful.” She traced her fingers over his mouth, memorizing the warmth of it. “I’m glad you smile more lately.”
His gaze darkened with something deeper, something infinite. “I’m glad I have a reason to.”
Jason cupped her face and turned her fully to him, pressing his forehead to hers, their breaths mingling, their hearts beating in time. “I plan on smiling a lot more,” he promised, his voice rough with emotion. “For a very, very long time—with you at my side.”
Her heart clenched, full to bursting.
“I love you,” she breathed, and she knew, without a doubt, that those three words could never fully capture the depth of what she felt for him.
His eyes softened, his grip on her tightening like he never wanted to let go. “I’m sorry you had to wait so long for me to figure it out,” he whispered.
She shook her head, blinking back tears as he brushed his nose against hers, a slow, tender motion that spoke of promises unspoken.
She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into him, into this moment, into the love that had always been there, waiting for them to find their way back to each other.
Finally.