14. Chapter 14
Asha shifted on his lap finally, wiping at her face with the heel of her hand.
“I should heat the rice,” she muttered thickly. “It’ll go cold.”
James tightened his arms around her immediately.
“Not yet. Let me hold you a bit longer. This feels nice.”
She gave in easily because that's what she wanted as well.
His body became oddly tense all of a sudden.
He looked almost nervous, which was absurd considering this was a man built like he could wrestle bears for sport.
“Let me say what I need t’say first,” he muttered. “Cos I’m no good with words an’ if I stop now, I’ll make a mess of it.”
Despite herself, Asha gave a watery sniff of laughter. James looked relieved for a second on hearing it. Then his expression turned serious again.
“You said we are different.”
Asha remembered that.
James marched on stubbornly.
“Aye, I’m pasty white and you’re…” His eyes travelled slowly over her face. “Golden brown. I smell like a wet sock and you smell like flowers.”
Heat crept faintly into her cheeks.
“I’ve got grey eyes. You’ve got brown.”
He paused thoughtfully.
“I’ve got a cock while you—”
“James!”
He grinned instantly. Then, the humour faded from his face.
Slowly, carefully, he took one of her hands.
His fingers looked enormous wrapped around hers.
James unbuttoned the top few buttons of his work shirt awkwardly one-handed before guiding her palm flat against his chest.
Directly over his heart.
It hammered hard beneath her touch like a powerful metronome. The,n his rough hand slid beneath the hem of her blouse, spreading warm against her stomach until she sucked in a startled breath.
Higher.
Resting just over her ribs. Over her own racing heartbeat.
“But this?” he said gruffly. “This is same, int'it?”
Asha couldn't look away.
“My heart beats fer you, love.” His voice had gone rough suddenly. “And yours beats fer me.”
His thumb stroked slowly against her warm skin beneath the blouse.
“I’m obsessed wi’ ya. You know that. Have been since that day I first saw ya. Everyone thinks I am a fool for ya.”
Asha made a tiny strangled sound.
“And I think…” His mouth twitched slightly. “I think maybe you love me too. I think you like me being obsessed with you. And if you don't, you have the next fifty years to get used to it.”
Then, like he couldn't help it, he added smugly—
“At very least, yer jealous o’ Emma.”
Asha didn't deny it. She was stuck on the fifty years.
“I was not jealous!”
“Course not.”
“I wasn’t!”
His grin widened. Then his hand wandered beneath the layers of her clothing until he cupped her breast fully in his palm. His thumb brushed slowly over the hardened peak beneath the fabric.
Her breath caught sharply in her throat and she had to close her eyes.
James buried his face against her neck with a low satisfied sound, breathing her in deeply like a man finally home after wandering lost in the dark.
“Missed this,” he muttered against her skin.
Asha’s fingers, trapped between them, curled tightly into his shirt automatically.
Then his voice changed in a way she had never heard before. Tentative, almost shy.
“You asked me if I’d marry you. You caught me by surprise, love.” He rubbed his nose briefly against the side of her throat. “I’d never thought about it before. All I think about when I see ya is getting under your skirt.”
Instead of laughing like he meant her to do, something painful flickered across her face immediately.
James continued in a rush.
“But the second you said you didn't want to see me anymore," he said hoarsely, “I knew.”
Asha stared at him.
“Knew what?”
“That the answer is yes.”
Asha felt she could barely breathe.
“Do you mean it?” she whispered, afraid that a single word would break this spell.
James looked almost offended.
“Aye.” His forehead touched hers gently. “I do. I wouldn’t want anyone else. It’s either you or bachelorhood.”
Then awkwardly, almost shyly, he dug into his trouser pocket.
A small gold ring rested in his palm. Delicate gold filigree work worn smooth with age.
“This was me gran’s,” he muttered. “My mam gave it to me when she passed away years back.”
Asha stared at it speechlessly. James took her trembling hand carefully.
“Let’s see if it fits.”
The ring slid over her finger, then stuck stubbornly at her bony knuckle.
James barked out a startled laugh.
“Bloody hell, yer fingers—”
Before he could finish, Asha shoved hard and the ring finally slipped into place.
Perfect.
She stared down at it.
“It fits now,” she whispered.
Then immediately—
“But—”
“No buts.”
Her eyes lifted helplessly to his.
“It doesn’t change…” She swallowed hard. “The fact that my skin is brown.”
James stared at her for a long moment, then shrugged.
“Aye.”
Asha blinked.
“Aye?”
“Aye, yer brown.”
James grinned suddenly.
“But do I care? Do I want anyone else?”
She opened her mouth before closing it again. He leaned closer until their noses brushed.
“We’ll have kids all different shades o’ milky coffee.”
Asha made a choking sound.
“James!”
“What?” he asked innocently. “I’m bein’ realistic.”
“You cannot say things like that!”
“Why not? Sounds nice to me.”
She tried desperately not to smile and failed completely. Her heart felt as light as a feather. And James looked at her then like a man seeing sunlight after weeks in the mines.
She did not resist when he peeled the layers away.
There was none of that fear and grief which had broken her last week.
But there was also no patience in either of them now.
Asha fumbled with his clothes just as desperately, fingers clumsy against buttons while James cursed softly under his breath trying to drag his shirt over his head.
The tiny room filled with their mingled breathing and skin against skin and the frantic sense of two people terrified this might somehow still vanish if they stopped touching.
When he pushed her down onto the bed, she welcomed him immediately. James groaned roughly against her neck the moment he pushed inside her with none of the usual foreplay. But this time, she was as desperate for him as he was for her.
This time there was nothing slow, nothing restrained.
The week apart had stripped all the barriers away.
Asha wrapped herself around him tightly, fingers digging into his shoulders to leave bloody scratches while he moved against her with desperate intensity, like he was trying to convince himself she was really still here.
It did not last long. James buried his face against her throat with a strangled curse before going still above her, breath shuddering hard from his chest.
“Sorry,” he panted roughly a minute later. “Christ, ah—”
Asha laughed breathlessly beneath him. The sound made him smile.
“Don’t laugh,” he muttered against her skin.
James glared weakly before immediately reaching between them with stubborn determination.
“Alright,” he muttered. “My turn t’fix it.”
And soon enough his rough clever fingers had her gasping helplessly into the pillow instead, the tension inside her snapping apart so suddenly she was shaking. Afterwards, they lay tangled together breathing slowly in the dim little room.
They were perfectly in accord.
James’s hand drifted lazily along her back while Asha rested against his chest listening to his heartbeat.
For the first time in days, the tightness beneath her ribs gave way to light.
Eventually James sighed and carefully disentangled himself.
“Don't get up,” he said sleepily.
Asha made a sleepy noise of protest, making a show of holding onto his hand before letting him slip away. The room felt warm and heavy afterward, her limbs pleasantly loose as exhaustion finally crept over her.
She knew they needed to collect her son soon. But for just a few more minutes she wanted this.
This peace.
This impossible happiness that was theirs.
She didn't want to think of the problems ahead and lay there drowsily dreaming of a little girl with light brown skin and eyes like silver. She drifted half asleep, listening vaguely to cupboards opening.
Then there was silence for a while.
Asha frowned and pushed herself upright slightly.
“James?”
There was no answer. A flicker of unease went through her.
Then he reappeared beside the bed, and relief swept through her.
Immediately she saw the expression on his face.
Not anger exactly, only hurt. He looked betrayed.
In his hands was a folded piece of paper.
Her stomach dropped to her feet.
She watched as the map crumpled in his fist.
“You were plannin’ t’leave?"
Asha sat up slowly, clutching the blanket against herself.
“I—”
“You were gonna go. You would have disappeared and not said a word.”
There was panic beneath the roughness of his voice now. He looked haunted.
“Asha.”
She swallowed hard.
“I couldn’t bear it,” she whispered.
His jaw looked like it was hewn from stone.
“Bear what?”
“Seeing you with her.” Her eyes filled again instantly. “And if you had asked me to stay with you anyway…” She laughed shakily at herself, admitting why. “I don’t know if I would have said no.”
James went utterly still.
“I hope I would have,” she whispered miserably. “But I don’t know.”
A savage expression crossed his face then. Before she could say sorry, he tore the map cleanly in half. Then again and again, like he was making a point.
Paper confetti fluttered to the floor around him. His bare chest rose like bellows beneath uneven breaths.
“You’re not leavin’ me.”
The words came out like a fierce vow as his nostrils flared.
It came out possessive, almost desperate.
Asha could only say softly—
“No.”
James hauled her tightly against him again.
“So, help me God,” he muttered into her hair, arms crushing around her. “You scared years off me. I was so close to losing ya.”
“I won’t go,” she whispered.
“No, you won't." He pulled back enough to look directly at her, blue eyes blazing fiercely. “Yer mine now.”
The blunt certainty of it should have frightened her. Instead, warmth spread painfully through her chest.
“And so’s t'boy. Both of you are mine now.”