Chapter 30
Jake
Kelly’s lips slant against mine with an intensity that tells me she’s got the same kind of need coursing through me.
It’s just Kelly and me, finding our rhythm again.
“God, Kelly,” I murmur against her mouth, my hands roaming over her back, pulling her closer until she’s damn near sitting on my hips.
Her soft moan is music, drowning out the nagging voices of responsibility that usually takes up residence in my head. For once, I want to forget about being the dutiful dad, the reliable friend, the guy who keeps his head down and business afloat. I want to remember reckless, wild-hearted Jake who doesn’t always play it safe, who takes what he wants.
And what I want is right here, legs swinging off the edge of my kitchen bench.
“Come with me.” My voice is low, urgent, as I slide my hands under her thighs and lift. Her legs lock around my waist and she clings to me as though she’s afraid I’ll drop her, but that’s not gonna happen. Not tonight. Not ever again if I have anything to say about it.
We navigate through the silent house—a path I’ve walked a million times, but never like this, with Kelly against my chest—and into the bedroom that’s seen too many lonely nights. Gently, I lay her down on the bed.
“Jake...” Her voice is a whisper.
“Shh,” I soothe, leaning down to press kisses along her collarbone, taking my sweet time with each button on her blouse, revealing a white tank top underneath. I pull it up and over her head to find a simple white cotton bra and more of the pale, creamy skin I’ve been dreaming of. “Let me take care of you.”
Her breath hitches when I roll her gently to the side and unclip her bra, before pulling it off her and casting it aside, hungry eyes drinking in the perfect sight of her. I lower my head, tasting the valley between her breasts, before my tongue lazily strokes each nipple to a pebbled peak. Slowly, I slide the rest of her clothes off with a patience I didn’t know I possessed. There’s reverence in each touch—I’m worshiping every part of her.
“Tell me what you want, Kel,” I rasp against her skin, the rough of my stubbled cheek scraping against the inside of her thighs as my mouth hovers just near her pussy, my breath hot and wanting.
“Your mouth,” she gasps, and that’s all I need.
I move my head up and trail kisses across her stomach, lower and lower, until I reach the place where she’s wet and waiting. The first flick of my tongue has her arching off the bed, her fingers tangling in my hair, guiding me, silently begging me to keep going.
“You taste so damn good.”
“Jake, please,” she whimpers, and my mouth stays on her clit, sucking and licking as one of her hands laces through my hair, applying pressure to the back of my head, the other fisting the comforter.
My fingers slide inside the wet heat of her, pumping and curling, while my mouth stays on her clit, alternating licks with sucks and light nips. Her body responds, building toward a crescendo that soon has her crying out my name like a prayer.
When she comes apart, my whole world snaps into sharp focus. This. Her. Us . It’s everything. And for the first time in a long while, I let myself believe it might be possible to have it all.
Just the taste of her, the feel of her coming undone under my touch, has me rock hard, and I reach for the nightstand, fumble with a condom, and tear the foil packet with my teeth, a feral grin splitting my face.
Her gaze is locked onto mine, dark eyes wide and heavy with need. I roll the condom on, while she’s spread out beneath me like some kind of beautiful offering, and damn if I’m not the luckiest bastard alive.
“I’ve been waiting for this all week, ever since we got trapped by the storms and I fucked you in front of the fire,” I say, guiding myself to her entrance, pushing in slow—so damn slow—watching myself disappear inch by inch into the soft velvet of her. The restraint nearly kills me, but I’m hell-bent on savoring every second, every gasp, every hitch in her breath.
“Me too,” she replies between soft moans. “You’re like a drug. I can’t get you out of my head.”
“You don’t need to get me out. I’m not going anywhere.”
And then I’m fully sheathed, enveloped by her. I still for a moment, letting us both savor the connection, the depth of it. It’s not just sex; it’s memories, heartbeats syncing, the past whispering around us.
“Fuck me, Jake. Please. I need you.”
Her words are my undoing. I start rolling my hips, a tempo that has us both moaning. With each thrust, I stake my claim, and with my thumb on her sensitive nub, I push her closer to the edge again.
Her hands are greedy, gripping me, wanting more, her legs open wide, welcoming me deep inside. We move against one another, lost in each other, time ceasing to exist, until she comes again, and I follow straight after, my body going rigid as I pulse inside her, her body clenching around me.
We both clean up a little and get back into bed, a tangle of limbs and damp skin, her head resting on my chest, breathing together in the quiet aftermath. The ceiling fan whirls above us, casting lazy shadows across the room, but my focus is on Kelly, on the delicate weight of her against me.
This is big. There’s something tender and terrifying in the way she curls into me. She’s letting herself be vulnerable with me, despite everything we’ve been through, which only makes me want to shield her from everything .
“Could this be real?” I whisper into her hair, not expecting an answer. But the question hangs there, stirring up everything we’ve had to forget since that night Jenny told me she was pregnant. She shifts, nuzzling closer, and there’s a silent nod between us.
“Stay with me tonight,” I say. The words are an offering, a promise, a plea.
“I’ll stay,” she says, and something settles deep in my chest—a piece clicking into place, the universe answering my question.
Yeah, this could be the start of something real.
I trace the line of her collarbone with my finger, the sheen of sweat on her skin. We lie there for a long time, just holding each other, until I wrap my arms around her and squeeze. “Do you want something to drink? Maybe a snack?”
“Some water would be great.”
I head into the kitchen and fill two glasses with chilled water from the fridge, pausing for a moment, leaning against the bench, replaying the day, remembering Mom and Lucy with their well-meaning advice.
Sure, I could try to be more in touch with my emotional side, but right now, with Kelly’s scent still on me, nothing needs fixing. I do get their point though, and while we don’t need to talk about my emotions, I should at least offer to talk about hers.
I head back to the bedroom and pass her a glass of water, before settling on the bed again beside her
“Hey,” I say. “We didn’t really get to talk properly the other day when you told me about your mom. How have you been holding up? It must be hard being back here. There are so many memories.” There it is—my attempt at emotional depth, as clumsy as a bull in a china shop.
She doesn’t flinch, though; just looks up and gives me that same stoic look she’s always worn when things get tough. “It hurt a lot,” she admits. “But I’m doing fine. It’s life, right? Sometimes shit happens and you’ve just gotta keep going.”
Fine is such a bullshit word, even I know that, but I let it slide this time. Everyone grieves differently, and it’s not my place to call her out or make her feel bad. Not when she’s lying here, every damn fantasy I’ve ever had come to life, her silky dark hair fanned out on my pillow.
“Alright, but I’m here for you for anything you need.” Because what else is there to say? I can’t fix what’s broken in her, can’t glue the pieces of her shattered heart back together. But I can be here, holding her, supporting her until she heals.
“Thanks for asking, though,” she adds, a hint of something softer sneaking into her tone. “You and Jenny seem to be doing so well at this parenting thing.”
“Yeah, it was hard when we first split.” I don’t want to tell her my deep seated fear that Adele’s struggles are a reflection of some failure on my part. My worry that the aftershocks of mine and Jen’s divorce finally making themselves felt.
Kelly shifts beside me, her head tilting slightly as she studies me. “You and Jenny. Why did you two split up?”
I pause, unsure of how much to tell her. “Honestly? There was very little love between us—at least the kind that keeps you going through the rough patches. It was more about obligation. As you know, we got married because of Adele. We tried to make it work for her, went through the motions.” I glance over at her, hesitating. “But even from the start, Jenny knew my heart wasn’t all in. She knew it belonged somewhere else.”
A quiet stillness settles between us. Kelly’s gaze meets mine. “I get that,” she says finally, her voice soft. “You know, I tried to move on after you. After us. But it never felt right. Something was always missing.” She pauses, taking a breath. “It was as if no one else could fit. No one could fill the space you left behind.”
A pang of guilt and longing grips me. I reach over, my hand covering hers, squeezing gently. “I didn’t know. I mean, I figured you’d find someone who’d treat you how you deserved.” I shake my head. “You deserve the world Kelly. The entire world. I never wanted to hold you back, and I never wanted to be the reason you held back. I just wanted you to be happy.”
She gives a quiet, sad smile, eyes flickering down to our hands. “You left a mark on me. A permanent one. I didn’t realize how deep until I saw you at the wedding.”
I clear my throat, rubbing the back of my neck with my free hand. “If only I had a time machine.” I try to make a joke of it, but the truth stings. “I should’ve been more honest with you, with myself, back then.”
Kelly’s fingers squeeze mine. “Maybe we both should’ve. But I think we did the best we could with what we knew. We were kids.”
I feel the weight of all those years between us, the missed chances, the mistakes. I lift her hand to my lips, brushing a kiss across her knuckles, her skin soft against my mouth.
She leans into me, her head resting on my shoulder, and there’s that same sense of belonging we had all those years ago. Her fingers trace patterns on my chest, and I focus on that. We don’t need any more words, not right now. We’ve got something better—we’ve got this, her in my arms right where she belongs.
This second chance is a gift I’m not going to question.
And as sleep starts to pull at my consciousness, dragging me down into dreams I’m sure will be filled by her taste, her skin against mine, the wet heat of her, I make one silent promise: I’ll be there for her, I’ll always show up for her, as long as she needs me.