12. Charlotte
Chapter twelve
Charlotte
I slip back into the reception hall just as Jake accepts the microphone at the front of the room. My heart is still racing from our conversation in the garden, but I drag in a deep breath of air, filling my lungs and blow it out slowly. Maya catches my eye and waves me over to where she stands with Mack, but I shake my head and hang back.
Jake clears his throat, and the room falls silent. “When Brock first told me he was dating a physician, I figured it would end like all his other attempts at relationships—in flames.” His easy smile draws chuckles from the crowd. “But as time went on and I saw the way he looked at Libby, like she was both the spark that lit him up and the oxygen he needed to survive, I knew he was falling in love.”
Off to the side, my brother’s arm tightens around his new wife’s waist as she beams up at him.
“The thing about being a firefighter,” Jake continues, his voice taking on a deeper note, “is that we’re trained to recognize danger. To assess risk. To protect at all costs.” His eyes find mine across the room. “But sometimes, the biggest risk in our profession isn’t running into a burning building. Sometimes, it’s letting down your guard. Admitting your feelings. Realizing true love means knowing when to let someone in, to invite them to stand beside you.” Jake’s gaze holds mine, the weight of his words settling deep in my chest as a server passes with champagne for the toast. I pluck a flute from the tray.
“Brock and Libby might not have had the smoothest start to their relationship,” he continues, earning a few chuckles from those in the room who know the story, “but the two of them understand this better than anyone. Their love isn’t about one person saving the other. It’s about choosing each other every day. Supporting each other’s dreams while building new ones together.” Jake raises his glass. “To the happy couple.”
The room erupts in applause and cheers. I lift my glass with everyone else, the bubbles tickling my nose as I take a sip. For the first time in two years, the taste doesn’t remind me of weakness or fear. It tastes like celebration. Like new beginnings.
Jake watches me as he hands off the mic. Without missing a beat, he makes his way through the crowd with purposeful strides. My pulse quickens with each step he takes. When he reaches me, he doesn’t hesitate. His hand cups my face, thumb brushing my cheek with a tenderness that makes my knees weak.
“Jake—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“Are you drinking champagne again?”
“It would appear that way.”
“Does that mean—” he starts, but I cut him off, pressing my lips to his.
It’s a beat before he deepens the kiss so much it steals my breath and probably breaks several public decency laws. His other hand splays across my back, pulling me flush against him as his mouth moves over mine with passionate intent. The champagne flute dangles forgotten from my fingers as I grip his lapel with my free hand.
Mack’s piercing whistles cuts through the din of the crowd, and Maya’s delighted laugh rings in my ear, but I can’t focus on anything except the way Jake is kissing me as if he’s making up for two years of holding back. And I’m here for it.
When we finally break apart, his forehead rests against mine once more. “I’m done pretending,” he says, voice rough. “I’m done watching you from across rooms and fighting what I feel. I want everyone to know you’re mine and I’m yours, if you’ll have me.”
“Even though I’m stubborn and independent and don’t need saving?” I challenge.
His smile is soft, intimate. “Exactly because you’re all of those things.” His thumb traces my lower lip. “Although, for the record, that night at the bar, I didn’t intervene because I thought you needed saving. I couldn’t help but step because I was already falling for you, hard, and the thought of another man stealing you away drove me insane. Still does.”
Tears prick at my eyes as everything slots into place. All this time, I thought his protective instincts were about seeing me as weak. But they were about seeing me, and falling for me, from the beginning.
“I’ll have you,” I whisper, the words falling from my lips. “I’m yours.”
Joy blazes across his face, but then he sobers, his hand tightening on my waist. “Even knowing I’ll always rescue you, no matter what?”
I smile, sliding my arms around his neck. “I can’t promise I won’t fight you on it sometimes, but I’m starting to see the appeal of…having backup.”
“I’ll take it,” he chuckles and steals another quick kiss. “Though, I have to warn you, now that I can freely kiss you whenever I want, I plan to do it often.”
“I hope so.” From the corner of my eye, I catch my mom beaming at us from across the room while my stepdad wraps an arm around her shoulders with a knowing smile.
But it’s the couples on the dance floor I can’t help but watch. Mack and Maya swaying so close they’re practically one person. His gigantic frame is curved protectively around her petite one. Levi pressing a tender kiss to Zoe’s temple as she smiles at whatever he’s whispering in her ear. And Brock and Libby, lost in their own world of newlywed bliss. I’ve watched them all, the men falling hard while each strong woman chose to share her life with someone who appreciates her exactly as she is. Now, wrapped in Jake’s arms, with his heartbeat steady against my palm, I finally understand. For the first time, I don’t feel like the defensive single girl, fighting to prove herself. I feel as if I belong.
Jake’s hand finds mine, fingers intertwining as if they were made to fit together. “Dance with me?”
I squeeze his hand, my heart so full it might burst. “Yes.”
As Jake leads me to the dance floor, my brother catches my eye and gives me a slight nod that says more than words ever could. And I realize, sometimes, the best kind of rescue isn’t being saved from danger. Sometimes, it’s being saved from yourself by someone who wants to protect you, not because you need it, but because he needs you.