Chapter Ten
Two weeks later
Holly stood in front of her easel, brush hovering over canvas, trying to capture the way morning light filtered through pine trees. Not the cabin where she'd hidden. Not the place where men had died trying to kill her. Just trees. Light. The way beauty existed even in spaces that had held violence.
Her apartment smelled like turpentine and coffee. Normal smells. Safe smells. She'd been painting every day since coming home, working through everything that had happened in the only way she knew how.
The angry reds and blacks of her old work had given way to something more complex. Blues that shifted to purple in certain light. Greens that held both life and shadow. Her art professor would have called it growth. Holly just called it survival.
Her phone sat on the counter, screen dark. Jonah had texted every day. Good morning. Good night. Updates about his new business venture. Nothing that demanded a response, which somehow made Holly want to respond more.
But she hadn't seen him since that first night back. Hadn't gone next door. Hadn't invited him over. She needed space to remember who she was outside of fear and adrenaline and a man who made her forget everything except how much she wanted him.
The problem was, two weeks later, she still wanted him.
Holly set down her brush and picked up her phone. Three new messages from Jonah. The first was a photo of paperwork. Business license approved. Bauer Security Consulting is officially real.
The second was a picture of a coffee cup. I’m surviving on caffeine.
The third made her chest ache. I miss you. But I'm here when you're ready.
Holly typed and deleted three different responses before giving up. What was she supposed to say? That she missed him too but had spent two weeks trying to convince herself this was just trauma bonding and failing miserably?
A knock at her door made her jump. Holly wiped paint-stained hands on her jeans and checked the peephole.
Jonah.
He stood in the hallway, hands shoved in his pockets, looking nervous in a way she'd never seen him look before. Not the lethal operative who'd killed three men to save her life. Just a man who didn't know if he'd be welcome.
Holly's heart hammered as she opened the door. "Hi."
"Hi." Jonah's gaze traveled over her face like he was memorizing it. "I know we said we'd take things slow. That you needed space. But I have something I need to say, and I can't wait any longer to say it."
"Okay."
"I'm not here to borrow sugar." A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "I'm here because I love you and I need to know if this is real. If what we have can survive grocery shopping and boring Tuesdays and all the mundane stuff that makes up actual life."
"You want to know if I still want you when no one's trying to kill me."
"Yeah. That."
She should invite him in. Should have this conversation sitting down like adults. But Holly couldn't move, couldn't do anything except stare at this man who'd turned her entire life upside down in the span of two weeks.
"I've been painting," she said finally.
Jonah blinked at the non sequitur. "Okay?"
"Trees. Light. The way shadows work when you're not afraid of what's hiding in them." Holly stepped back, gesturing for him to come in. "Come see."
He followed her to the easel. Holly studied his face as he considered the canvas. The piece was maybe half-finished, but the composition was there. Pine trees backlit by sunrise, their shadows stretching long across forest floor.
"It's beautiful," Jonah said.
"It's the cabin. The morning after that first attack." Holly picked up her brush, not painting, just needing something to do with her hands. "I keep trying to paint anything else, but I keep coming back to that place. That morning when I woke up next to you and knew everything had changed."
"Because of the attack?"
"Because I'd fallen in love with you." Holly set down the brush. "And I've spent two weeks trying to convince myself it wasn't real. That it was just two people clinging to each other in a crisis."
Jonah went very still. "And?"
"And I'm a terrible liar." Holly turned to face him fully. "Even to myself. Especially to myself."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that for two weeks, I've had complete freedom.
No one chasing me. No threats. No reason to need you except that I do.
" Holly's voice shook slightly. "I'm saying that boring Tuesdays sound amazing if I get to spend them with you.
And grocery shopping is only mundane if you're doing it alone. "
Jonah closed the distance between them in two strides. His hands framed her face, thumbs brushing away tears Holly hadn't realized were falling.
"I thought I'd lost you," he said. "Thought maybe you'd realized you were better off without me."
"Never." Holly leaned into his touch. "I was just scared. Scared of losing myself again. Scared of letting someone have that much power over me."
"Do I have that much power over you?"
"Yes. And it terrifies me." Holly covered his hands with hers. "But I'm more scared of not having you in my life. Of waking up five years from now and realizing I let fear make my choices instead of making them myself."
Jonah kissed her. Slow and deep and full of everything two weeks of silence had built between them. Holly melted into it, into him, feeling like she could finally breathe again.
When they broke apart, Jonah rested his forehead against hers. "So what do we do now?"
"Now we try." Holly stepped back just enough to see his face. "We keep our own apartments. We date. We figure out what this looks like when life isn't trying to kill us."
"That sounds good."
"I'm still going to need space sometimes. Still going to need to be alone with my art and my thoughts. That's not me pulling away. That's just who I am."
"I know. And I'm still going to worry too much and probably hover." Jonah smiled. "That's just who I am."
"So we're both a mess."
"The best kind of mess."
Holly laughed, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. "Tell me about the business. Bauer Security Consulting."
"I signed a lease on office space yesterday. Nothing fancy, just a small suite in a building downtown. But it's mine."
"What will you do?"
"Corporate security consulting. Training programs for executive protection teams. Maybe some private investigation work." He shrugged. "Basically using everything I know to help people stay safe without having to kill anyone."
"That sounds perfect for you."
"Yeah? You don't think it's a terrible idea?"
Holly took his hand, lacing their fingers together. "I think it's wonderful."
"Have you talked to your father?" Jonah asked.
"We had lunch yesterday." Holly made a face. "It was awkward as hell. He tried to ask about my art and clearly had no idea what to say. I tried to ask about his work and realized I know nothing about what he actually does all day."
"But you went."
"I went. And I'll probably go again next week. Baby steps." Holly pulled her knees up to her chest. "He's trying. I can tell he's trying. Whether he can actually change or if this is just temporary remains to be seen."
"You don't have to give him more chances if he doesn't deserve them."
"I know. But I want to try. Not for him. For me." Holly rested her chin on her knees. "I spent three years angry at him. I don't want to spend the next thirty that way."
Jonah nodded, understanding. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, just being near each other.
"I have something to show you," Holly said, standing. She crossed to a stack of canvases leaning against the wall and pulled one out. "I finished this last week."
The painting was of Jonah. Not the version she'd sketched in the cabin, softened and idealized.
This was honest. Hard edges and shadows, but also light.
The violence he was capable of, yes, but also the gentleness.
The way he'd held her after nightmares. The way he'd respected her choices even when they scared him.
"That's how you see me?" Jonah asked.
"That's who you are."
He stared at the painting for a long moment. "I don't know if I deserve that. The light parts, I mean."
"You don't get to decide what you deserve. I do." Holly set the canvas back against the wall. "And I think you deserve everything."
Jonah pulled her close, burying his face in her hair. Holly held him, feeling the tremor that ran through his body. They'd both been soldiers in their own ways. Both fighting battles that left scars no one else could see.
But maybe that's what made this work. They understood each other's damage.
"Make love to me," Holly said.
"I don't want to rush this. We said we'd take it slow."
"We are taking it slow. We've had two weeks apart. We've established we're both disasters who want to be disasters together." Holly pulled back to look at him. "Slow doesn't mean not moving forward at all."
Holly led him to her bedroom. They undressed each other slowly, relearning the landscape of scars and freckles. When Jonah laid her back on the bed, his touch was reverent.
"I've missed you," he said, his hand tracing the curve of her hip.
"I've missed you too."
He kissed his way down her body, taking his time. No urgency. No fear that this might be the last time. Just the pleasure of learning what made her gasp. What made her arch. What made her beg.
When he lapped between her thighs, Holly's hands fisted in the sheets. He worked her with his tongue, slow and thorough, until she was trembling. The orgasm built gradually, a wave rather than a crash, and when it broke Holly cried out his name.
Jonah crawled back up her body, kissing her deeply. Holly could taste herself on his lips, and the intimacy of it made her chest ache.
"I need you," she said. "Inside me. Now."
He entered her slowly, giving her body time to adjust. The stretch was familiar now, perfect, like they'd been designed to fit together this way. Holly wrapped her legs around his waist, taking him deeper.
They moved together, finding a rhythm that was uniquely theirs. Not dominant. Not desperate. Just two people making love because they chose to.
"Look at me," Jonah said.
Holly opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. The vulnerability there stole her breath. This man who'd killed for her, who'd quit his job for her, who'd given her space when she needed it. He was completely bare before her.
"I love you," she said. "I'm still scared and I'm still figuring things out, but I love you."
"I love you too." Jonah's hand found hers, fingers lacing together. "And we'll figure it out as we go."
Their pace increased, chasing the pleasure building between them. Her second orgasm approached, different from the first. Deeper. More connected.
"Come with me," she gasped. "I want to feel you."
Jonah's rhythm stuttered as his own climax built. When Holly's orgasm hit, clenching around him, he followed with a groan. They clung to each other, riding out the waves, neither wanting to break the connection.
Afterward, they lay tangled together, sweaty and satisfied. Jonah pressed kisses to Holly's temple, her cheek, her lips. Gentle affection that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with love.
"Stay tonight," Holly said. "I'll make breakfast in the morning."
"You cook?"
"Badly. But I try."
Jonah laughed, the sound rich and genuine. "Then I definitely can't miss that."
They fell asleep wrapped around each other, and Holly dreamed of sunlight and canvas and a future that looked nothing like her past.