Chapter Thirty-Six
Jamie
I danced through my downtown Toronto apartment, singing off-key and not caring who might hear.
Anyone watching would never guess my father had died two days ago. That I’d left my son behind. That somewhere in a hospital, an extraordinary man and his family were waiting for a miracle I’d walked away from.
No one would know and, in that moment, I didn’t feel it either.
The darkness that had been stalking me for over a week had simply…lifted. In its place was something bright and steady. I was filled with confidence, momentum, and a sharp, electric optimism that made it impossible to stand still.
I moved because I could. Shimmying through the kitchen. Spinning past the couch. I’d spent too much of my life sheltering in place. Not enough time dancing.
Even without my voice echoing off the walls, the apartment hummed with life. Street noise rose through the open windows. Car horns. Snatches of conversation. A siren somewhere in the distance. Neighbors moved above and below me, footsteps and plumbing and the faint thud of bass through drywall.
That was what I’d always loved about this city. It swallowed you whole and somehow made room at the same time. You could disappear into it without ever feeling erased. There was comfort in the anonymity. In being one of millions. In knowing no one was watching too closely.
But it was lonely, too.
I lived surrounded by people who didn’t know my name. Neighbors were door numbers. The couple in 810 fought like it was a nightly ritual, their arguments bleeding into the hallway, and no one intervened. It was just part of the collective noise.
Copper Ridge was the opposite. There, everyone knew you.
Not just your name, but your business. People took care of each other.
If something looked off—like a daughter breaking into her father’s home after a ten-year absence—someone called the police.
Concern, community, maybe a bit of gossip, were all part of the charm.
Ten days there. One day back here. The contrast felt sharper than it should have. Strange how quickly I’d adjusted to trees and water and open sky instead of glass towers and concrete.
It was hotter here, too. Thick, city heat clung to skin. Maybe it was the density, all of us packed together, generating warmth. Or maybe it was my manic dancing.
I’d stripped down to a tank top and sleep shorts, refusing to turn on the air conditioning before June. Stubbornness had always been one of my more consistent traits. Sweat slid down my spine, and I ignored it.
I was halfway across the living room, still moving to a song only I could hear, when a sharp knock cracked through the noise and froze me in place.
The building’s front lock had been broken since I moved in, but I wasn’t expecting anyone for hours. I checked my tank top wasn’t too revealing and opened the door, prepared to be diplomatic.
My stomach dropped.
Eric stood with his arm braced against the wall, paler than usual, his forehead dotted with sweat. His hard stare couldn’t hide exhaustion so deep I worried he might collapse.
“Eric, what are you doing here?” I gasped. “Come in, you need to sit down.”
His eyes flashed with something close to anger. He stalked past me into my apartment without a word. I closed the door and turned to find him right there. In my space.
His stormy expression made me feel like I’d done something terrible. My actions probably warranted his wrath, but it still felt intense.
“Let me get you water, then you can tell me why you look ready to murder me.”
“No.” His glare was unwavering.
“Okay, well, at least—”
“No, Jamie. Don’t move from this spot. I came here to tell you something, and you’re going to stand here and fucking listen.”
The command in his voice stopped me more effectively than his body blocking the door ever could. I’d seen Eric angry, protective, and controlled. I’d watched him carry fear and remain steady.
This was different.
Not out of control. Not explosive. This was focus—hard and unyielding.
He’d never been cruel, never careless with me, so there shouldn’t have been anything to fear. And yet the force of him, the way he occupied the space, pressed the air thinner in my lungs. Anxiety flickered under my skin.
So did something else.
New heat sparked to life within me as desire pulled my body tight.
“You can’t run away from me, Jamie. I won’t let you. You can’t just disappear without a word and think I won’t chase you down.” He was breathing hard, chest rising and falling sharply. “You left me unconscious on an operating table for fuck’s sake.”
The accusation landed heavy, but he didn’t shout it. He didn’t need to. The restraint in his voice made it worse. “My mother was in tears when she told me you’d come back here, and I was too drug-hazed to understand why.”
Any weakness from the procedure was buried under something stronger. He looked steady on his feet, jaw tight, shoulders squared like he’d forced his body to cooperate through sheer will.
“Worst of all, they wouldn’t let me out of the hospital. Wouldn’t let me drive to chase you down.” His eyes burned into mine. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“Eric.” My voice was soft, apologetic.
“I’m not done.” His savage growl had my mouth snapping shut.
“I mean that, Jamie. I’m not done with you.
And I’m not letting you be done with me either.
I know you’re scared. You’ve dealt with more than most, and you probably think this thing between us was temporary. Or fake. Or just a distraction.”
His brow pulled tight as he dragged a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding through the movement. The sight of it, the tension in his forearm, the way his chest rose and fell, made my pulse kick hard.
“But it’s not” he continued, voice thick but steady. “It’s none of those things. Hell, I don’t think it ever was.”
For a second, the edge slipped. He looked at me fully, not guarded, not composed. “Jamie, beautiful girl, I’m in fucking love with you. I don’t want to lose you. I refuse to let you go.”
God, this man. He had no idea what he did to me.
“Are you done?” I asked finally, because if I didn’t say something, I was going to break.
His expression darkened. “Really? That’s your reaction? After everything I just told you, that’s how you’re going to play it?” He was seething. And fuck…it was sexy as hell.
“Eric.” I raised my voice, not wanting to poke the beast but needing his attention. “Did you not notice you’re standing beside a stack of boxes?”
That slowed him. Confusion flickered across his face as he finally glanced around the apartment.
The wall was lined with boxes—everything prepped for movers. If he’d stepped further in, he’d see only furniture and appliances remained. Everything else was packed and ready.
“What?” He looked genuinely thrown.
“Did you really think I’d just run away? Without even saying goodbye?”
“Yes. I thought you were scared.”
“I am. I’m really, hugely scared.” My stomach took flight. “I’ve never been more afraid in my entire life. Not even pregnant and alone.
“For the first time in years, I’ve let someone in.” The words tumbled out now that they’d started. “I’m putting my heart, my future, in someone else’s hands. Do you understand how terrifying that is for me?”
My fingers curled together under my chin, not dramatic, just desperate for him to see it.
To see me. “But there’s something that scares me more.
Running again. Shutting myself down. Locking everything up because it’s easier than risking it.
I couldn’t do that this time. I wouldn’t survive it.
Not now that I know what I’d be walking away from. ”
His eyes searched mine, sharp and relentless, like he was testing every word for weakness.
I closed the space between us before I lost my nerve. My hands came up to his face, thumbs brushing the rough line of his jaw. He went still under my touch, but I could feel the tension humming in him.
I kissed him lightly, just once.
“I’m really fucking in love with you too,” I whispered. Honest words. The truest I’d given him. Without pretense or prelude.
His jaw flexed. His brow pulled tight. The look on his face shifted into something rawer, something almost pained.
Then his hands were on me.
He trapped my waist in his sublimely strong grip and pulled me flush against him, right where I belonged.
And he kissed me.
Not tentative. Not careful. It was deep and consuming, layered with frustration and relief and something possessive that made my knees weaken. Every time his mouth found mine, it felt inevitable.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested briefly against mine. “You’re not running away from me.”
“No. I’m running toward you. Looking to the future might be scary, but I know I want you in it. That’s practically all I know, but at least that part’s solid.”
“Christ, I’m an asshole.”
“No, you’re not.” I shook my head. “I should’ve told you what I was planning.
Leaving like that was a jerk move. I didn’t even decide until yesterday morning.
And I thought maybe I’d already screwed this up.
I didn’t want to add to the stress of Day Zero or make it about me. It was supposed to be about Caleb.”
He held my gaze, still intense, still not letting me look away. “Couldn’t you have waited?”
“I should have. I’m sorry. I just couldn’t stand waiting and worrying in that hospital another day. You showed me my path, Eric. I didn’t want to wait to take it.”
“Shit.” His expression softened as he dragged a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. Should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt. I feel like a prick.”
“Can I make a confession?” A nervous heat crept up my cheeks, but I didn’t look away. “I kind of like it when you’re demanding. Even when you’re a bit of a jerk. It turns me on.”
A slow, dangerous smile curved his mouth. “You turned on now, beautiful girl?”
“Maybe.”