Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
PATIENCE
It was our first road trip together.
I wished we were going under different circumstances, but my husband needed this to find peace, so that we could have many family outings together—ones that included our son.
Closure was essential to Jett's healing process.
It took a week to set everything up, and saying goodbye to Griffin was hard, but he was in good hands with Gramps, Ruby, and Lyric. He also had Autumn and Tristan there to play with. Plus, it was officially summer, so all the kids would be getting together a lot.
With my eyes closed, window down, and the warm June sun heating my face, I mumbled along to the music softly drifting through the speakers.
My mouth turned up in a smile when the song changed to our karaoke pick.
Of course Jett had added this to one of the playlists he insisted was mandatory for a long car ride.
I still couldn’t believe he’d picked me up and tossed me in the air over his head—like I weighed nothing, I might add—at the end of the song. When I had stalled, not making my run for it like in the movie Dirty Dancing, my husband took matters into his own hands.
The pub erupted in cheers so loud I was surprised my ears weren’t still ringing from the noise level.
He’d said, “Let’s make memories.”
And we’d definitely done that.
It was just one of many I hoped to create with my husband. This trip was another. It may not be a good memory because of its purpose, but it was still part of us and showed how much we were growing as a couple. He’d initially shut me out when he first came back, but that had changed.
A couple should stand together in good times and in bad, always.
Jett’s hand touched mine, and I swiveled my head in his direction, grabbing hold. He looked at me for a split second, flashing his signature smile—with a side of dimple—and my belly fluttered before he turned his eyes back to the road.
This was hard for him, but he was putting on a brave face. As we made our journey, I’d heard bits and pieces of their days in captivity and the torture they had endured. I knew he was holding back details, trying to shield me, but at least he was sharing some of it.
Everything he told me was so hard to hear, but I’d listen to it all if it would help him. He’d been doing well with counseling, but I also wanted to be his champion—just as he’d been mine from the moment we met.
I kept my hand clasped with his in silent support and tried to prepare myself for what was to come.
Three friends’ resting places, three families to speak to, and two cities to visit.
Two of Jett’s buddies grew up together in a small town in Hailey, Idaho, went through training together, and then landed in the same unit.
We were headed there first, before heading to Missoula, Montana where the other had lived—keeping us not too far from home.
I’d heard stories from Jett over the years, but also during our travels, and I knew the families of the two men were close, a tight-knit group much like the one Jett and I had back home.
A shudder raced through me when I thought about how it would feel if something happened to someone in our circle. Then my mind wandered back to the day we got the news that Jett was missing. It seemed unfathomable to think about what it would have been like if he’d never made it home.
“Hey, Roo.” Jett lightly squeezed my hand. “What are you thinking about so hard over there?”
This trip was going to be tough enough; I didn’t want to admit I’d thought about losing him.
I wished no life had been lost, but I was thankful it hadn’t been my best friend—now husband.
Sometimes that thought made me feel like the worst person on the planet when good people, friends of my favorite human—besides my son—were no longer alive.
“N-Nothing,” I lied, stuttering a bit as emotions swirled through me.
Suddenly, we were pulling into the parking lot of a hotel.
I was stunned we’d already made it to our first destination.
We’d left really early and driven eight hours straight through with a short lunch break and a couple of quick pit stops.
We would stay the night and meet the families the next day.
My husband parked, and after turning off the engine, he twisted his body to look me dead in the eye. “I felt you shiver, sweetheart. I know something was going through that pretty head of yours.”
He wasn’t going to leave it alone; he was like a dog with a bone until he found out what he wanted to know and was very determined.
Not letting his gaze leave mine, he waited, and I caved. “I was just thinking I’m so glad that you didn’t die.” My lips quivered. “I don’t ever want to lose you.”
I didn’t mention his friends because I knew he was already struggling with so much guilt. With my mind going where it had, I had a slight understanding of how he was feeling, but it didn’t compare to the magnitude of how it must hit him.
“You won’t, baby. I’m right here.” He pressed the button to release my seatbelt, then did the same to his. Pulling me slightly toward him, he gave me a soft kiss. “Let’s go inside; I want to hold you.”
That sounded like a good plan.
We never left our room after we checked in.
Heck, we’d barely left the bed. Just as my husband had said he wanted to do, he held me. His body wrapped around me, warm and heavy like a weighted blanket, helped me succumb to the fatigue I’d been feeling for the past few days. Before I knew it, I was sound asleep.
My eyelids fluttered open, and I met my husband’s heavenly-blue gaze. “I can always get lost in your eyes.”
His lips turned up slightly. We were facing each other, his hand resting on my hip, but it wasn’t enough. I hooked my calf over his leg and pulled myself into him, leaving no space between us.
“From the first time you crouched down in front of me, your eyes have always been a warm, safe, and healing place for me. But not only then—so many times over the years too.” I brushed a couple of fingers over his forehead and down his cheek. “I want to make you feel that way somehow.”
He gave my hip a gentle squeeze. “You’re my person, Roo. You always have been and being with you or even knowing you are part of my life makes everything better.”
“Yeah?” I whispered.
Jett moved his head the last fraction and kissed my forehead sweetly. “Yeah, sweetheart.”
My stomach chose that moment to growl—loudly. We were having a special moment, and my belly was rumbling like the start of a darn earthquake was taking place inside of it—and, of course, my guy laughed at me.
I playfully swatted his arm. “You’re a brat.” Then, like a very mature woman, I stuck my tongue out at him.
Next thing I knew, my husband was devouring my mouth. Maybe sticking my tongue out was an invitation I wasn’t aware of, but I had no complaints. It was a toe-curling kiss, and I relished every second of it before we finally broke apart.
“What do you say to room service and eating in bed?”
It took a second for my brain to compute. “Sounds perfect.”
After a quick kiss on the tip of my nose —because that was Jett for you—he rolled over and got out of bed. The moment my eyes took in his body, I wanted to worship it instead of eat. I craved him more than any food item you could place in front of me.
In only a pair of grey sweats hanging low on his hips, I drank in his sculpted back muscles and licked my lips—right as he turned around.
He flashed me a sexy smirk. “If you keep looking at me that way, you’ll never get fed.”
“I could work with that.”
A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. “You need your energy for later,” he said as he grabbed the menu. “Pick out what you want. Eat, then play.”
“Play? What are we, five?”
My husband tossed the menu on the bed. “Smartass,” he said affectionately. “Choose what you want so I can show you what playtime between us—two healthy adults that just discovered how fucking phenomenal sex is—would look like.”
Desire swept through me, and I wondered: How fast can I possibly eat?