11. Santa Barbara
SANTA BARBARA
Jamie
I’d just told Jordyn who I was. Why had I hesitated? I’d been comfortable with myself for the longest. But before that?
I remembered Little Brody called me a eunuch.
It was as if my eldest brother and tormentor had uncovered a hidden secret I’d tried desperately to bury and destroy because I couldn’t stand on equal footing with him.
Couldn’t measure up to his standard. I’d wondered the same thoughts throughout my teenage years—thoughts of whether I could be attracted to someone.
There was that time with Willow. I tried.
But protection was at the crux of that. Then I’d tossed the notion into a closet, boarded it up, doused it in gasoline, and lit a match.
No exaggeration. Now I trusted the man I had become—and I wasn’t any lesser of a man because of my identification as ace.
As I knelt against the freestanding tub, the towel in my hand brushed across Jordyn’s cheek. A smidge of dirt lingered from when that vagrant had grabbed her earlier.
It was strange. The same hands that wanted to feel the man’s pulse fade into nothingness wanted more than anything to discover her. Every part of her. And even though Jordyn hated me, she’d so kindly accepted me. The very part of me it took years to accept.
Instead of using the towel, my thumb brushed the corner of her mouth.
My finger paused longer than necessary. Not because she was trying to tempt me.
She did such a good job at that. But she wasn’t this time.
This time, her eyes closed, and she seemed to lose herself in the touch while I lost myself in the nearness of her.
Being near Jordyn was like standing on the edge of something sacred—and dangerously human.
Per other people … I wasn’t human.
People had a lot of misconceptions about asexuality. That those who identify as ace didn’t have desires. Couldn’t fall in love. Were cold.
Numb.
I’d been that, though, cold. Numb. The last seven years away from my cl— ahem , Clan MacKenzie was spent in a cold, numb world across enemy lines.
Anyway, truth be told. I didn’t fall for any woman who sauntered by me with an hourglass figure—Jordyn had that. Man, she was the definition of the perfect shape. The real solid truth was that some people like me just didn’t fall in love with everyone.
A sense of duty made me see Jordyn at the Chelomey estate. I mean, I really saw Jordyn. Broken. Radiant. Fierce and trembling as she thrust a rake into that dog’s mouth. I might’ve named it respect then. But in the last six torturous weeks of her hating me from afar, something else crept up on me.
Silence can do something with the mind. The head. And what I felt for Jordyn didn’t just stir me physically. Didn’t just move my heart—it rattled every bolt in my soul.
And worse … it stirred other parts of me.
Parts that had been silent my entire life. Parts that never even considered coming alive for dirty magazines. There was a time I’d been desperate to prove I’d grown into a man and that I could conform, so I’d bought magazines. More magazines than I could count. All at one time.
Different races. Different sizes. Different fantasies. Nothing worked. Except, I noticed some of the magazines had a better grade of paper.
I wrung the towel, buying myself time to think. We should’ve been unpacking what happened to her this morning. The assault. The trauma. Instead, I’d somehow become the topic. My sexuality. Feelings. My fascination with Jordyn.
“I know you guard your heart now, JorJor.” The words came out in my deep voice, low and guarded. “I mean Jordyn.”
“You can … uh, call me that if you want,” she murmured.
Good . I saw it as a name for her that only I had. “You’ve got every reason to. But deep inside, I gotta believe you’ve got the same beautiful heart. The one I saw in that cage.”
Jordyn’s gaze locked onto mine. Something wordless passed between us.
And just like that, I couldn’t take it anymore. I handed her the towel and stood, trying to ignore the fire of passion burning in my veins. Every muscle screamed to flee. Before you say something stupid . Before you do something stupid .
Like taking advantage of a beautiful woman who didn’t yet know how to love herself.
I’d never felt this way about anyone. Even when I was younger, I couldn’t understand when Rory, twenty-six now, I believe, told me about the girl he’d fallen in love with one week as opposed to the girl he fell in love with the previous week.
He’d been in high school then and spoken with such a light in his eyes. I wanted to believe him.
And I’d felt nothing until … Jordyn.
God help me, I felt everything now .
Not just because of her beauty. Nae. She was beautiful in ways that wrecked me, but her soul called to mine.
Her voice when she laughed while chatting with other people on the beach.
A beach read ? Never heard of it until she engaged in a deep discussion, exchanging titles with a woman about a week back.
And the way Jordyn breathed when she slept, like she was at peace, even though when she awoke, she’d glare at me like this was a war. If she could remember the girl she was—brave, kind, unshattered—she’d be the whole package. Everything I never dared to dream of.
Still rooted to the marble floor, I told her, “Tell me something. Anything. Even if it’s juvenile.”
Jordyn’s mouth corked. “Okay. Color. Easy. Burnt Orange. Well …”
“Well, what?”
“It was the favorite color of someone I once knew. Katlego”
I nodded, filing that away for later like an operative logging details in a mission dossier. I wasn’t jealous. I didn’t do jealous. I just … took a note. A simple note which included expiring the guy if necessary. “Blue,” I offered. “Dark blue.”
“Boy, clearly, you don’t know how many forms of blue there are?”
“Sky blue. Baby blue. Dark Blue?” I smirked. “Dark blue wins.”
“There are more than 160 distinct shades.”
“Learn something new every day.” I folded my arms, trying to appear unfazed. Inside, I was unraveling. Man, she’s killing me .
I cleared my throat again, just excited that Jordyn was speaking to me. “You’re a book girl. So, favorite beach read? That’s what you read, right? We can listen to audiobooks or even watch a movie. One could live a hunner lifetimes through either.”
“A hundred .” She chuckled.
That laugh. I would’ve set the world on fire to hear it again. “ Don’t laugh at me, girl,” I replied, hoarse. “Now, what books do you read?”
“I see you like eavesdropping.” She smirked. “I was just giving that lady on the beach a few suggestions. My fav is thriller. James Patterson. Any Alex Cross novel. I’m ready to stream the next season. Aldis Hodge is one fine brother.”
Oof. Strike one to the chest. Not because I felt threatened. In this moment, I remembered how far from ordinary I was. She wanted someone who could make her heart race. Who would sweep her into a heat-drenched kiss, pin her to the wall, and make her hot all over.
And here I was. The guy who preferred discussing the necessity of a High Altitude Low Opening for a black-ops mission. “Okay,” I replied, tone flat and sarcastic. “No Alex Cross. Got it.”
“Not fair, Jamie,” Jordyn called after me. “You’ll be hooked on that show. Alex?—”
Halfway through the bedroom, I muttered, “Nae! I’d rather watch Pretty Woman .”
A snort echoed behind me.
Man, I’d walked right into that.
“What do you know about Pretty Woman ? Huh?” I could practically see her lips fall into a delicious smirk.
Without offering an answer, I smiled and sauntered into another room down the hall for a shower. The answer was: Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Leith had mentioned how his wife still loved Pretty Woman and that what we were doing was similar on the drive to Tarzana Hills.
In the other bathroom encased in marble with a large shower, I ran the water—without adjusting the temperature—and wiped the silly grin from my face. I removed my cell phone from my pocket.
Though I’d left Leith’s many text messages on Delivered, I could see his next ultimatum from the text ribbon at the top of the locked screen.
LEITH:
You’re ghosting me again?? Okay. I’ll not bother you any longer. You have until two weeks before Christmas to reach out to Mam and Da about the girl. They deserve to know about the others!
Similar to his prior messages and about six weeks’ worth of calls, and then his harping about giving me a deadline to respond as if he was being noble and philosophical, I disregarded this one too. Had too much on my mind for his mess.
Way too much.
Every muscle in my body had strained when Jordyn pulled out of her exercise clothing like it was nothing.
But to me, it was everything. It wasn’t the sex.
It was the intimacy. The trust. The ease in which she existed in her skin after all the damage.
Or was it because of the damage? Had it caused her to lose all sense of modesty?
I groaned. The cold bit into my skin while I peeled out of my shirt and shorts. This wasn’t about purity culture—which I’d used on Devi—or shame. It was about discipline. About not letting my past—or my pain—define how I loved Jordyn.
Never been with anyone.
I didn’t count seven days of abduction. Therapy helped me understand that I was still a virgin. I leaned my forehead against the marble wall and whispered into the water. “Maybe I should propose to her tomorrow. She’d called me weird for less.”
Weird or not, I’d wait for her to take the time she needed to come into her own.
And one day, if I were lucky … she’d pick me.
Not because I helped rescue her. She’d choose me for me and for reasons that had nothing to do with looks or returning the favor of he r freedom.
And then I could show her that I could love every part of her, even in ways she hadn’t imagined.