Chapter 9 - Jade
I'm fucking happy.
That's the thought that keeps running through my mind as I lie here in Eli's arms, our legs tangled together, his hand tracing lazy circles on my shoulder. After everything, after Mom, after leaving the city, after starting over in a town where I knew no one, I'm actually happy.
Not the fake kind of happy where you pretend everything's fine. The real kind. The kind that settles into your bones and makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, things are going to be okay.
Eli shifts slightly, pulling me closer, and I smile against his chest. This man who wanted nothing to do with people, who built his entire life around being alone, is holding me like he never wants to let go.
"What are you thinking about?" he asks, his voice a low rumble beneath my ear.
"That I'm happy," I say honestly.
His hand stills for a moment. Then he resumes the gentle circles. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." I tilt my head up to look at him. "Are you?"
He considers the question, his gray eyes studying mine. "I think so. It's been so long, I'm not sure I remember what it feels like."
"Well, let me know when you figure it out."
"You'll be the first to know."
I'm about to say something else, something sappy and romantic that will probably make him uncomfortable, when a loud bark echoes through the cabin.
We both freeze.
Ridge.
Another bark, this one more insistent. Then the sound of his nails clicking against the floor as he paces.
"Shit," Eli mutters, sitting up.
"You think he's okay?"
"He's fine. Just not used to—" He gestures between us. "This. The noise."
I feel my face heat. Right. We were pretty loud. And Ridge has probably spent the last six years in a cabin where the only sounds were Eli chopping wood and the occasional grunt.
Eli swings his legs out of bed and pulls on his jeans, not bothering with a shirt. I watch him go, admiring the view: the broad shoulders, the muscles in his back, the way his jeans sit low on his hips.
God, he's gorgeous.
He opens the bedroom door and Ridge immediately pushes his way in, tail wagging but looking slightly anxious. He goes straight to Eli, who crouches down to scratch behind his ears.
"Sorry, buddy," Eli says quietly. "Didn't mean to scare you."
Ridge huffs, then turns his attention to me. I'm still in bed, sheet pulled up to cover myself, and he trots over to investigate.
"Hi, Ridge," I say, reaching out to pet him. "Sorry for all the noise."
He licks my hand, tail still wagging, and I take that as forgiveness.
Eli watches us with an expression I can't quite read. "He really likes you."
"You've mentioned that."
"No, I mean… He's usually more suspicious of new people."
"Maybe he has good taste."
"Maybe." Eli stands, and Ridge settles on the floor beside the bed, apparently content now that he's checked on both of us. "You hungry?"
I realize I am. Starving, actually. "Yeah."
"I'll make something." He heads toward the door, then pauses. "You coming?"
"In a minute. I should probably—" I gesture at myself, at the mess we made.
"There are towels in the cabinet."
"Thanks."
He leaves, and I take a moment to just lie there, staring up at the ceiling. This is real. This happened. I had sex with Eli Cross, and now we're… What? Dating? In a relationship? Figuring it out as we go?
Whatever it is, I'm in.
I get up, wincing slightly at the pleasant ache between my legs, and walk toward the bathroom. It's as sparse as the rest of the cabin. Just a sink, toilet, and shower. But it's clean, and there's hot water, and that's all I need right now.
I clean myself up, wincing again as I feel his cum still inside me. I should probably be more concerned about that, about birth control and consequences, but I can't bring myself to regret it. Not when it felt so right.
I'll deal with it later. Figure it out. Like everything else.
When I emerge, dressed in his clothes again since mine are still damp, I find him in the kitchen. He's got a pan going, and the smell of bacon fills the cabin.
"Bacon twice in one day?" I ask, leaning against the doorway.
"It's what I've got." He glances at me. "Unless you want to try your hand at cooking again."
"God, no. I'll leave it to the expert."
He almost smiles at that.
I move to sit at the small table, Ridge following and settling at my feet. We fall into a comfortable silence, the kind that doesn't need to be filled. Just him cooking, me watching, the crackling of bacon and the settling of the fire the only sounds.
It feels domestic. Natural. Like we've done this a hundred times before instead of just today.
"I should go get some of my things from the house," I say eventually, watching him work. "Clothes, my laptop for work. I can't keep wearing your flannel forever."
He glances at me, and there's something almost possessive in his gaze. "I like you in my clothes."
"I like me in your clothes too, but I do actually have to work at some point."
"We can go tomorrow. Get whatever you need."
"And then I'll come back here?"
He turns to face me fully. "Yeah. If you want."
"What about after that? Do I just keep going back and forth?"
"You can work from here if you want," he says, and I can see the tension in his shoulders. Like he's offering something big and isn't sure how I'll respond. "Stay as long as you want. Or don't. Whatever you need."
But it doesn't feel too fast. It feels exactly right.
"Okay," I say. "I'll stay. We'll figure out the logistics later."
His shoulders relax, just a fraction. "Okay."
We eat bacon and eggs at his small table, our knees touching underneath, Ridge watching hopefully for dropped scraps. And I think about how much has changed in just a week.
A week ago, I was alone in a new town, trying to fix a sink, unsure of everything.
Now I'm here, with a man who makes me feel more seen than anyone has in years, planning to split my time between my house and his cabin like it's the most natural thing in the world.
Life is strange.
But sometimes, strange is exactly what you need.
Two days later
I'm standing in the parking lot of Casey's Automotive, watching Eli talk to the mechanic about whatever's wrong with his truck.
I didn't want to come. I told him I could stay at the cabin with Ridge, but he'd insisted. Said he didn't want to leave me alone out there, which was sweet and overprotective in equal measure.
So here I am, trying not to look too obviously in love with the way he's standing there in his work jeans and flannel, arms crossed, nodding along to whatever the mechanic is saying.
The mechanic himself is interesting. Older than I expected, maybe near 40, with dark hair pulled back in a bun and grease stains on his hands. He's got an easy smile and keeps cracking jokes that make even Eli's mouth twitch.
"So, you're the new girl everyone's been talking about," the mechanic says, turning his attention to me.
I blink. "Everyone's talking about me?"
"Small town. Someone new moves in, especially someone who manages to crack the hermit's shell—" He nods toward Eli. "—it's news."
"I didn't crack anything," I say. "I just brought lasagna."
"Terrible lasagna," Eli adds.
"It wasn't that bad."
"It was pretty bad."
The mechanic laughs. "I'm Casey, by the way. Casey Brennan."
"Jade Elliot." I shake his offered hand, noting the firm grip and the oil under his nails. "You run this place?"
"Own it, run it, live and breathe it." He wipes his hands on a rag. "Moved up from Boston. Needed a change."
"I get that. I just moved here from the city myself."
"Yeah? What brought you to Blackwater Falls?"
"Honestly? I pointed at a map and picked the first place that sounded nice."
Casey grins. "That's as good a reason as any. How are you liking it?"
I glance at Eli, who's watching me with those storm-gray eyes. "I'm liking it a lot, actually."
"Good. We can always use more people who appreciate what we've got here." Casey turns back to Eli. "Anyway, like I was saying, it's the alternator. I can have it fixed by tomorrow afternoon."
"Tomorrow's fine," Eli says.
"You need a ride back? I can call Frank, see if he's around."
"I've got it covered," I say before Eli can respond. "I can drive him."
Both men look at me. Casey with amusement, Eli with something that might be surprise.
"You sure?" Eli asks.
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Just making sure."
Casey's grin widens. "Oh, you two are going to be fun to watch."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask.
"Nothing. Just small town. We don't get a lot of new romances around here. It's entertaining."
I feel my face heat. "We're not… I mean, we are, but—"
"We're figuring it out," Eli says, cutting me off.
And then, to my complete shock, he reaches over and takes my hand. Just like that. In public. In front of Casey and anyone else who might be watching.
Casey notices, of course, because he's clearly perceptive as hell. But he just smiles and says, "Well, good for you both. Lord knows this guy needs someone to drag him into town more often."
"I come to town," Eli protests.
"Twice a month if we're lucky." Casey waves us off. "Go on, get out of here. I'll call you when the truck's ready."
We head to my car. My tiny sedan that Eli has to fold himself into, and I can't stop smiling.
"What?" he asks as I start the engine.
"You held my hand."
"So?"
"So, you did it in front of Casey. In public."
"And?"
"And that means you're not hiding this. Hiding us."
He's quiet for a moment, looking out the window at the trees passing by. Then he says, "I'm done hiding."
My smile gets even wider. "Good. Because I'm not going anywhere."
"You've mentioned that."
"I'm going to keep mentioning it until you believe it."
"I'm starting to," he says.
I reach over and take his hand, lacing our fingers together. He squeezes back, and we drive like that all the way to his cabin: hands linked, the future uncertain but somehow less scary than it was before.
Because I've got him. And he's got me. And Ridge, of course.
And for now, that's more than enough.
That night, after dinner and after I've checked my work emails and after Eli has chopped enough wood to last through winter, we end up back in his bed.
Not for sex this time, though I wouldn't say no, but just to lie together. To talk. To exist in the same space without needing it to be anything more.
"I talked to Frank today," Eli says, his arm around me, my head on his chest. "While you were in the hardware store looking at paint samples."
"Oh yeah? What about?"
"He asked if you were coming to Murphy's Grill this weekend. Apparently Murphy wants to meet you."
"The whole town wants to meet me, apparently."
"You're a novelty."
"I'm a person who brought bad lasagna to a hermit. That's hardly newsworthy."
"In Blackwater Falls, it is." He's quiet for a second. "Do you want to go? To Murphy's?"
I prop myself up to look at him. "Do you want to go?"
"I'm asking you."
"Eli."
He sighs. "I don't love crowds. But I'll go if you want to."
"We don't have to—"
"I want to," he says, and he sounds like he means it. "I want people to know—" He pauses, searching for words. "I want them to know you're with me. That this is real."
My heart swells. "You do?"
"Yeah."
I kiss him, soft and slow. "Then we'll go. Together."
"Together," he repeats, like he's testing out the word.
And I realize that's what this is. What we're building. Not just a relationship, but a partnership. A togetherness that neither of us expected but both of us need.
I settle back against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
"Hey, Eli?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad I moved here. I'm glad I walked into that hardware store. I'm glad you corrected Frank about the washers."
His chest rumbles with a quiet laugh. "Me too."
"Even though it means your quiet life is over?"
"Maybe I was tired of quiet."
"Liar. You love quiet."
"I love you more."
The words slip out so easily, so naturally, that I don't think he even realizes what he said until I go completely still.
Then he tenses. "Fuck. I didn't mean… That was too soon—"
"Say it again," I whisper.
"Jade—"
"Please. Say it again."
He's quiet for a long moment. Then, quieter this time, more certain: "I love you."
Tears prick at my eyes. Happy tears. The kind I haven't cried in months.
"I love you too," I say. "Even though you're grumpy and you live in the woods and you pretend you don't like people."
"I don't like people."
"But you like me."
"I love you," he corrects. "There's a difference."
I smile against his chest, feeling lighter than I have in years. "Yeah. There really is."
We fall asleep wrapped around each other, Ridge snoring at the foot of the bed, the cabin quiet except for the sounds of the forest outside.
And for the first time since Mom died, I don't feel alone.
I feel home.