Chapter 43
N ora
I wake slowly, the way you do when the world feels safe. It’s still dark out, but the feeling of the new day is in the air.
There’s no alarm, no panic. Just warmth. Blankets. The faint weight of a heavy arm stretched across my hip. And him.
Jericho.
I’m sandwiched between the soft back of the couch and his heated body and can barely breathe, but there’s no chance I’m moving.
He has a perfectly nice bedroom, but somehow this worn-out couch feels cozier than any plush bed would.
Jericho got the fireplace going, and we watched it for some time before we went to sleep.
I want to start the fire again, so he will wake up to a warm, cozy room, but I’m scared this moment might vanish if I move. So I just watch him for a while.
The lights are off, and the small night fixture is still on in the kitchen but it’s dim.
The lights are off .
The lights are off. The overhead. The lamp. All those lights I see through the windows every night. Somehow he fell asleep without them.
I wonder if he’ll notice when he wakes up.
I reach out and gently trail my fingers across his shoulder. Not enough to wake him but enough to feel the shape of him. Real. Palpable. Here.
He stirs, slowly blinking his eyes open. They look confused for a moment before they land on me. For a beat, he doesn’t move and then exhales slowly. “You’re still here.”
I nod—funny how he must have been scared of the same thing because it feels too good to be true.
He watches me a second longer. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“I’m glad you did.” I add with a cheeky smile, “You wore yourself out.”
“Only myself?” He tickles my ribs, making me laugh. Then his eyes flick around the room, panicked. “Did you turn the lights off?”
I shake my head. “No. They were off when I woke up.”
He frowns like he doesn’t quite believe it—but lets it go, leaving me wondering if this is a good time to ask about his obsession with indoor lights.
While I’m contemplating the way to properly form a question, he sits up, rubbing his hand over his face.
The blanket slips low across his hips, and I get distracted, forgetting all my good intentions.
He’s not wearing anything. And I mean anything .
He tried to put his boxers back on right after the fabulous act, but I threatened him with putting clothes on too since I wasn’t going to walk around naked alone, so he quickly dropped them to the floor. Where they still remain.
“I bought a leather couch.”
“That’s… random. Congratulations?” I try smiling but fail because a couch purchase is the very last thing on my mind.
“Now I have to return it. ”
“Oh.” I’m still not following where we’re going with this question, but I guess he’s about to let me know in his Jericho way. I just hope it’s not because he’s decided to take off. “Why?”
“Because of you.”
“Me?” It’s getting odder and odder. This is not how I imagined a morning after sexy times to go.
“You.” His hand lands on my belly. “It’s too cold for you to sleep on leather.”
“Oh.” My exhale of relief is so loud, it’s embarrassing.
“Yeah.” His voice turns sleepy. “Since we’re planning on this,” he squeezes my flesh with his hand, “happening over and over again.”
A giggle is the only appropriate response I have.
“One moment.” He carefully untangles himself from me, stands up, and heads to the bathroom, leaving the door open.
Is that the next stage of this relationship? Am I ready to leave the door open while using the bathroom? No. I am not. But it feels good to know that he’s comfortable around me.
The water starts running, and he calls to me, voice rougher. “Nora. Get in.”
Oh, it was an open invitation I didn’t catch onto, which is no wonder considering my lack of good experiences.
My body starts buzzing. I jump to my feet and am about to head to him when a key turns in the front door, making me freeze.
“Jericho,” I call out, but he doesn’t hear me.
I turn around to grab the blanket from the couch when the door swings open.
“Well, hello there,” a laughing male voice says to my back. I cringe as I realize the pose I’m in: butt perked up high in the air while I’m bending over to grab the blanket.
With the speed of light, I throw my body inside the blanket, wrap it around myself the best I can in the current situation, and turn around. And in steps a man who looks exactly like Jericho, but younger, with a broader grin and absolutely zero awareness.
It must be Jethro, Jericho’s brother. Who just saw my coochie from the back. I stare at him, wide-eyed.
A loud curse. A strong arm. And I’m moved behind a big body.
“That’s one way to greet your brother.”
I peek from behind Jericho, who is still completely naked, to find his brother smirking while trying to get a glimpse of me.
“Hello there,” he says. “And hello, Jericho. Little chilly this fine morning, don’t you think?”
Jericho explodes. “What the hell are you doing in my house?”
Jethro shrugs. “Junie gave me the key. Said you wouldn’t mind. I figured you were ignoring my calls because you’re still mad about—” he gives a short whistle, “whatever you are mad about.”
“Oh, I am mad,” Jericho growls. “And I’m about to be homicidal if you don’t stop staring at her.”
Jethro holds up his hands totally not stopping the staring. “Hey, I didn’t expect a show. But congrats, I guess. Cute neighbor, right? With all the attributes.”
Jericho takes a step forward.
I grab his arm. “It’s fine. Really.”
“It’s not.”
He’s fuming. His body tight, jaw locked. I can feel the tension radiating off him and seeping into my skin. He’s so angry he doesn’t seem to care about being buck naked himself in order to shield me from his brother.
“Watch your mouth, Jethro.” The warning in his voice is loud and clear. And the goosebumps all over my body are very much present from the cadence of his growly tone.
“Sorry.” The brother finally drops his eyes to the ground, looking slightly remorseful .
Jericho nods silently, accepting the apology. “How much did you see?”
“I mean.” Jethro jerks his hand between me and himself. “I was kinda forced into that .”
“You fucking saw her naked?” Jericho snaps.
Jethro throws his hands in the air. “What, you want me to rip my eyes out?”
Jericho growls something under his breath that sounds dangerously close to ‘not a bad idea.’
I back up slightly, pressing my palm to his shoulder. “I’m gonna go find some pants.”
He nods without looking at me while still glaring at his brother like he’s weighing the pros and cons of murder.
“Good idea, gorgeous. We don’t want to traumatize Junie, do we?”
“Junie is here?” Jericho cries out, grabbing another blanket from the couch and finally covering himself up.
“Yes.” The brother throws his thumb behind his back. “She’s cooing with some bird at the next house.”
The bird must be our rooster, and for the first time I’m grateful for his appearance this early in the morning.
“I’m gonna go,” I mumble as I escape to the bedroom, still flushed head to toe under the enormous blanket I’m barely able to carry around. Through the wall, I hear Jericho grumble something about “boundaries” and “keys” and “never, ever opening my goddamn door again.”
He can be growly and scary all he wants, but I know him by now. Beneath all this anger is something else—protectiveness. Possessiveness. A man who just realized what it means to share the world with someone—and how terrifying it is to think someone else might see her the way he does.
And I can’t lie—I love it.