Chapter Twelve
Sarah
I'm not sure if I'm nervous or anxious, scared or what when I knock on his door an hour later with a photo album tucked under my arm.
I just know that Mrs. Braithewaite was right the other day at Dirty Book Club when she told me to go earn my wrinkles, memories, and scars. I've spent a long time—a really long time—afraid to do that.
But the truth is… life happens regardless of whether you hide in the shadows, too afraid to take chances.
It happens whether you stay frozen in fear, chained to the past. It happens whether you stick your head in the sand, refusing to acknowledge what's important.
It happens, whether you find the courage to face it or not. It happens, no matter what.
And dying does too.
I can spend my whole life trying to hide from that pain, and maybe I'll make it through without feeling it again.
But if I do, at the end of it, when it's my time to go, the only thing I'll have left to look back on is that pain.
The sum total of my scars, years, and memories will be the sad few pages and the losses immortalized in that album.
I'd rather make new memories and earn every wrinkle and every year.
"Baby girl?" Jasper's gray eyes run across me, full of worry, when he pulls the door open. "Are you okay?"
"Yes. Um, I have to ask you something."
"Shoot."
I lick my lips, my heart pounding. "Why didn't you tell me that you were my date that night at the restaurant?"
"Fuck," he mutters. "Olive told you?"
I jerk my chin in a nod.
"I was going to tell you," he says, holding my gaze.
"But then you said that you were never dating again and that you didn't even want to come in the first place, so I stopped myself.
I figured it was my one chance to finally show you how I felt, and I wanted to take it.
I wanted you to know…" He sighs. "I needed you to know that there's no one else for me. If it's not you, it's no one."
"Can I come in?"
"Depends." He leans up against the door frame, blocking it with his big body.
"On what?"
"On whether you're going to tell me that you think we should end this. Because if so, I can't let you in, baby." He swallows hard. "If I do, I'll tie you to my bed so you can't leave me."
The fact that he's serious should probably scare me, right? It doesn't. It breaks a piece of my heart and mends it at the same time.
The way he loves me has always been obvious. I was just too afraid to let myself see it, because if I did, I had to deal with my own mess. I had to address all the shit that scares the hell out of me.
"T-that's not why I'm here," I whisper.
The relief in his gaze makes me want to cry. I don't deserve him. Not yet. But I want to be the kind of woman who does.
He steps aside, letting me in. His body brushes mine as I step over the threshold, and I feel him everywhere, just like always.
"Can we sit down? I have something to show you," I murmur, gesturing toward the couch.
"Yeah, baby girl. We can sit." He places his hand on my lower back, leading me across the room to the couch.
His leg touches mine when we sit, side by side, his heat searing into me.
I place the photo album on his lap.
"What's this?"
"My secrets," I whisper, peeking up at him as he runs a finger around the edge of the album.
"It's…well, it has the only photos of my family that survived the fire and a few from boarding school.
" I swallow hard. "It has my birth certificate and the letter I got when I was eighteen, saying I was aging out of the system and would no longer receive services. "
"Jesus," he mutters.
"My whole childhood is contained in the album," I explain.
"Everything that I went through. Everything that shaped me.
I guess…everything that made me afraid?" I shrug helplessly, not sure how to explain.
"I always told myself that I kept it all to remind myself where I came from, but that's not true. "
He turns to look at me, his eyes locked on my face. "What is the truth, baby girl?"
"I kept it to remind me why getting close to people was dangerous." The truth scrapes out of my throat, raw and real. "I needed to remind myself that I could end up alone like that all over again if I wasn't careful."
He watches me intently, not speaking, but I see the way his eye twitches, as if hearing that hurts him. I think it probably does.
"Olive was the first real friend I ever had," I whisper, fighting the urge to hide my eyes from him. "I tried not to get close to her, but she's Olive. You can't win when you're fighting Olive."
His lips twitch because he knows I'm right. Olive isn't a force of nature. I think she is nature, chaotic, inevitable, and so full of life that she just sucks you in.
"I've always been so afraid I'd lose her, so it was easy to convince myself that I couldn't have you," I murmur, my voice shaking. "If it meant hurting her, of course, I couldn't. But that wasn't the truth, Jasper. It was never the truth."
"What was, baby?" he rasps. "Why couldn't you have me?"
"Because my family died, and I almost didn't survive it. If it had happened to you—if you hadn't come home from a mission—I wouldn't have…I couldn't have…" I bite my lip, fighting a whimper. "If you weren't mine, I thought maybe it would hurt less if that day ever came."
"Baby," he whispers, heartbreak written all over his face as he reaches for me, pulling me onto his lap. His arms shake as they band around me, like he can hold me together with the strength of his arms.
"I was wrong," I murmur, burying my face in his throat. "If something had happened to you without you ever knowing how I feel, I never would have gotten over it. I never would have forgiven myself."
"It won't happen, baby girl. I'm out now."
"I know." I swallow, burrowing deeper. "But I've still been scared to let myself love you. I used Olive as an excuse, but the truth is…I want it so bad that the fear felt like it was choking me."
"Give it to me," he rasps, tipping my head back until my eyes meet his.
"Let me carry it for you. That's my job, baby girl.
When you called me your daddy, that's the trust you gave me—to help you carry what's too heavy for you, to protect you when you can't protect yourself, to love you through every fear, every doubt, and every insecurity.
You gave me permission to make you my world, and to ensure that yours spins exactly the way it's meant to spin.
" His lips brush mine, his kiss soft. "Give it to me. "
I whimper, my hands fisting in his shirt. I turn on his lap, straddling him, trying to deepen the kiss.
He hesitates for a moment before giving in with a groan I feel in my soul. His arms tighten around me, the force of his desire threatening to consume me entirely as he licks into my mouth like he intends to kiss the fear out of me.
In a way, I think maybe he does. I feel stronger in his arms, braver, like, so long as they're around me, I can safely catch fire because he'll never let me burn up like my family did. He'll never let me suffer that same awful fate.
Eventually, he slows the kiss, pulling back to rest his forehead against mine. His hands run down my back, his touch soft.
"I wish I could lie to you and tell you that you'll never lose me," he murmurs, his voice gritty. "I wish I could make my will reality so you never have to feel loss again, but we both know it'd be a lie, baby girl. Loss is inevitable."
"I know," I whisper.
"What I can tell you is this: I retired because the future I saw for myself wasn't the SEALs.
It was you. Even when I thought I didn't stand a chance, I was planning for you, praying to God to end up right here with you.
And I don't intend for that future to end anytime soon.
" His voice is firm and deep, making me shiver.
"I fully intend to spend the next fifty years of my life being the man at your side.
And when it's my time to go, it'll be with a smile on my face because you were mine. "
"I…I want that, Jasper. I want it so bad," I admit. "I don't want to get to the end of my life and realize the only defining part of it was what happened when I was thirteen. I want it to be you. I want it to be us. I want it to be…" I trail off, struggling for words.
"Love," he says for me.
I nod gratefully. "I want to be the girl brave enough to reach for love with both hands, so that's why I'm here. That's why I came. I wanted to tell you…"
"What?"
"That I love you," I say, my voice shaking. "I've loved you for a long time. And I think part of me always knew you felt the same way. I was just scared to face it." My fingers drift through the hair at his nape. "I'm not afraid anymore, Daddy."
"Jesus," he groans, tipping me backward to kiss the taste from my mouth.
I cling to him, kissing him back the same way, right up until my back hits the sofa and his body covers mine.
"I need you," he rasps, his hand raking up my thigh, taking my skirt with it. "I need to be inside you when you say it again."
"Yes," I gasp, arching for him, opening for him.
He doesn't bother removing my panties. He just tugs them aside, his thumb rolling over my clit.
Heat rushes through me in a flood, and I gasp, arching into him.
"That's it," he croons, lining up at my entrance. "Light up for Daddy just like that, baby girl."
I don't light up. I go supernova, gasping his name and clinging to him as he sinks inside me so slowly I think I might not survive. Maybe I'll just shatter into the sound of his name and the shape of his love.
My hands claw down his back as he unravels me little by little, whispering in my ear how much he loves me and how good I feel, how perfect I am, and how he's right here.
"Daddy has you," he croons, rocking into me. "I'll always have you, Sarah."
It's impossible not to believe him when I've felt the way he loves me, when I've seen it. Even when I wasn't ready to face it, even when he wasn't mine, it was always right there, written in the damn stars as if he could force the world to bend around it.
"I love you," I whisper when I'm right on the edge, seconds from falling.
His body shudders on top of mine before he groans, sinking deeper. He drives into me wildly, fucking me without restraint, as if I've snapped every bit of it.
I cry out his name, my body clamping around him as I shatter apart, falling for him—always for him.
He groans, following me over, his cock pulsing inside me as he spills into me, shuddering and gasping, every muscle quivering.
He's beautiful like this—fierce and gorgeous and mine. Finally, he's mine.
"What memory do you want to make first, baby girl?" he asks a little while later, cuddling me on his lap.
"Probably telling Olive about us." I peek up at him. "I feel bad that I've been keeping it from her."
"Don't," he growls. "She knew all along. I asked her not to harass you about it. I knew you needed some space to process and work through things in your head."
"Really?"
His hand curves around my jaw, tilting my face up to him. "I know you, baby girl," he murmurs. "I didn't know exactly what kind of pain you were hiding behind your silence, but I could see it in you. I didn't want her overwhelming you."
"I don't deserve you."
His eyes narrow on me, a growl rumbling in his throat. "You're right. You deserve far better than me, Sarah. But you made me your daddy, and that makes you mine now. There's no taking that back."
"I don't want to take it back."
"Good." He kisses me hard on the mouth. "Because it's not happening."
I smile up at him, pretty sure I have stars in my eyes. "We should probably talk to Olive, though. I want to make sure everything is out in the open."
"Everything?" He arches a brow.
"Most things," I quickly amend. "I, um…I'd rather her not know that you're my daddy."
His lips curve into a grin. "You embarrassed, baby girl?"
"No!" I say quickly. "It's not that. It's just…it's private and special. It feels like it's just for us. I don't want to share it with anyone else."
"It is just for us," he murmurs. "I'm your daddy.
You're my baby girl. We get to make the rules about what that looks like for us.
" He tips my head back, his eyes locking with mine.
"And just so we're clear, you get to make rules here, too, baby.
If you need something, you tell me. If you want something, it's yours. "
"Okay," I agree.
"What's your first rule?"
"More of this," I say, cuddling up against his chest again. "I like the way you hold me."
He wraps his arms more tightly around me, his lips against my forehead. "I love it too."
I hum in response, falling silent for a moment, and then I sigh. "We should probably go talk to Olive soon. She could use some good news today."
"Yeah? Why is that?"
"She called the police on Mason's parrot last night. Now, she's planning to change her name and move to Europe."
"Jesus Christ." Jasper's body shakes with silent laughter. "What the fuck?"
"She really likes him."
"Obviously. What'd the parrot do?"
"It's a long story. Let's just say…she no longer thinks he's a serial killer, but the whole town is probably going to think she's lost her mind soon."
"Jesus Christ," he groans.
"This is a tame week for her."
"Oh, I'm well aware," he mutters, his tone dry. "It's about time she fell for someone. I'm ready to retire from managing her, too."
"I think you're getting your wish."
"Thank God."
I giggle, burrowing into him. "You love her."
"Like fucking crazy, but she threatened to murder me, then stop life support so she could steal all my shit the other day, so I'm going to enjoy her misery while it lasts."
I just laugh, peaceful in a way I've never been.