Chapter Eleven
Claire
Islide a bowl of soup toward Jamison. He takes it and happily begins eating. He doesn’t care that we are eating my parents’ leftovers.
Jamison is easy, I’ve learned. He doesn’t fret over things and never puts up an argument. It makes me want to stay in his presence because I always relax a little bit more with him around. I’m usually so tied up with anxiety, it’s difficult to concentrate.
My heart does beat faster when he’s near me, though. But in an exhilarating way. He bleeds adventure, and I want to borrow a bit of that strength and wanderlust from him. He’s also comfortable. Like coming home at the end of the night to your warm blanket and a good movie. It’s like being around him is a comfortable adventure.
Jamison finishes his dinner and rises to take our bowls to the sink and rinses them. I’m not ready for him to leave. When Jamison turns my way, I sign quickly. Do you have to go?
It’s late.
I shake my hands, wringing them out. I’m not ready to let him leave me tonight. I run through ideas of ways I could get him to stay. But he’s right, it’s late and I should be lying in my room, allowing the day to fade away. But I want to do that with him nearby. His friendship and presence, I crave it tonight.
Jamison comes in closer, that scent of his flooding into me. He signs, It’s been a long day. You need some sleep.
He’s not wrong. I can feel the way sleep wants to drag me under. I nod, but the desire to ask him to stay the night is strong. This day has frayed all my nerves.
He slides a loose strand of my hair back behind my ear. His touch is sure, no hesitation with the way it caresses my cheek. A wave of tingles sweeps across my body, begging for him to close the last bit of space between us.
I could just do it myself. I could come in close and press my body to his. I’m certain I’m reading his body correctly. His thumb pulls my lower lip from between my teeth, the pad brushing across my lip causing me to gasp. I want to give him a sign. Something to tell him to bridge the gap between us with a press of his lips.
I back away instead. Jamison steps back, breaking the connection between us. My heart drops. Why couldn’t I just be bold? Ask him to stay the night with me. Tonight it would be as friends, but I also want more one day. I would like to know how his lips will feel on mine, the way his hand will feel tangled in my hair, how his body will feel pressed into mine.
I’ll see you in the morning?Jamison asks, his brows raised.
I uncross my arms to respond. Yes. My body is deflating because he’s leaving. Jamison turns and walks to the front door. I follow behind him. He reaches the entryway and looks one more time over his shoulder, giving me a reassuring smile.
And with that, I rush forward. I take exactly what I want—to be in his arms. He turns to catch me. I hold his face, his beard scratching my palms, and press my lips to his. They’re warm and soft. I pull back to look up at the man who helped me tonight and is becoming a vital part of my world. He crashed into my perfectly structured life and turned it upside down.
I took a risk. A smile spreads across my face. It’s never felt so good to be bold and brave, to take what I want. Jamison watches me, those eyes trained on my mouth. It takes only a moment before he pulls me closer with a hand buried in my hair, his other tugging on my waist.
He kisses me without restraint. I wrap my arms around his neck and allow him to show me how intense this adventure with him can be. His throat vibrates as he deepens the kiss, and I feel the vibration to my toes. The taste of him on my tongue. Wild and unrestrained, just like the man.
Jamison breaks away and slides his hand from my hair to caress my cheek. I’ve loosened my hold and let my hand linger on his neck, remembering the way it felt when he let that sound escape while lost in me. Feeling it, tasting the need is something I’ll never forget.
My hand drops, but he picks it up instead, tangling our fingers together. I already want to kiss him again. I’m certain once won’t be enough.
I reluctantly pull my hand from his. Do you have to leave?We could watch a movie? I’m not ready to suggest anything more tonight, but that’s okay. It’s all about the baby steps Maddie used to always say about dating.
Jamison agrees to a movie with a hazy look. I walk into the living room and sit on the couch as Jamison follows behind me.
There’s more than enough room on the couch, but he chooses the spot right next to me. I start a movie, whatever my parents were watching, but I find myself more focused on Jamison’s body next to mine and the way his steady breathing is under where I’ve rested my head on his chest. The subtle hint of his sweat and earthy scent settles any remaining trace of anxiety. He’s had such a long day. Working, then saving Dad’s life. I snuggle in deeper and train my eyes on the screen.
Jamison’s hold on my arm loosens, and his breathing goes deeper the longer we rest together. I peek up and find his head tilted back on the couch. It took him not even five minutes to pass out. I take the moment to observe the details of him, ones I’ve never witnessed when he’s been so content. That’s how he looks, his large body lounged back like this. His hair is even wilder than usual. I note that some of its mess has to be from when I grabbed him while he kissed me.
It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I let my eyes travel lower to those lips that kissed me so expertly, past his beard and further down to his firm chest. He starts to tip sideways, so I slide forward and let him. My smile spreads. His feet come up, and he stretches out on the couch. His eyes are still closed, but he definitely knows he wants to be more comfortable.
I wonder how many times he’s slept in less-than-ideal situations. He’s search and rescue in one of the harshest areas in the world. The Alaskan bush is known to be dangerous and unpredictable.
I’m left with the very edge of the couch, but there are absolutely no cares from me. I slide down the couch to remove his boots, as careful as possible not to wake him up. They’re huge hiking boots, but I make quick work of them. In the end, I’m not as gentle as I want. But damn, he’s big and really wasn’t helping much.
My throat vibrates with a chuckle I can’t hold back. I’m always so uncertain of my voice. But Maddie said my laugh was her favorite. I haven”t felt myself laugh in so long. I finally get the last boot off and drop it to the floor. When I look back, Jamison’s eyes are open, and the look he’s giving me… Holy shit, I can’t breathe. His eyes are dark and hooded. My heart races.
What’s he thinking? I start to lift my hands but hesitate. I don’t know what to do. But Jamison’s hand reaches to grab me before I can formulate anything. He tugs just enough for me to come toward him. His eyes close again as he pulls me to lie down beside him. He tucks me into his chest, giving me his bicep as a pillow.
His other arm wraps around my shoulders, and he pulls me forward so I’m snug against him. His chest vibrates the same way it did when he kissed me. My body relaxes, turns into his until there isn’t a part of me that’s not touching him. His breathing levels out moments later.
My body gives into sleep with little thought.
◆◆◆
It’s so hot. My hair is sticking to my neck and my mouth is dry. There’s a rise and a fall and something pressing on my head. I’m being squeezed. As Jamison’s scent floods me, I open my eyes.
I’m still securely wrapped in his arms as the morning light fills the living room. I try to disentangle myself, but his arms tighten. His chest rumbles, and my head is shoved into his neck. Jamison likes to cuddle. Who would have thought? I don’t want to move either, but I need to get up and take care of the normal morning routines. One more wiggle and chuckle, and I finally break his hold and sit up. He’s lounged back, his arm braced above his head. There’s a comfortable smile on his lips. He’d been up and was just messing with me.
I give him a knowing smile and shake my head. My hands move fluidly, telling him I’ll be right back. Perhaps we should discuss what’s transpired, but taking care of more pressing matters like the bathroom will prolong the conversation.
The bathroom door shuts, and I pause in front of the mirror. There’s a smile gracing my lips. My blonde hair is a nest of tangles and waves, tied off when I was restlessly fidgeting with it at the hospital. I work to make myself more presentable but find that waking up with a guy for the first time is a rush rather than scary. It’s Jamison, I tell myself. I’ve never felt safer or more secure with anyone else before. I finish up, and when I open the bathroom door, I find him waiting across the hall.
My turn, he signs with a wink. I can’t keep the smile contained as he slips past me. I go into the kitchen and pick a few things out to start him some breakfast. I should feel nervous or awkward this morning, but I don’t. Maybe my mind hasn’t caught up with everything yet, or the stress from yesterday just threw me off my routine. I’m in a haze.
I’ve only dated a handful of times, and none of them led to anything serious like staying after sex or dating. I’ve never had someone to call my own. Never thought I would want something so much in my life. But now, after just a taste of Jamison’s kisses, I want to take more. I want to experience more. Feel more.
The egg hits the edge of the bowl and cracks. I’ve made eggs a million times, but never for a man. I contemplate how he’ll like them. Scrambled? Sunny side up? Over easy? There’s too much about him I still don’t know but desire to know.
The shell drops into the bowl, and the yolk drips over my fingers when a warm hand slips across my lower back, lifting my shirt out of the way. The hand is large and rough as it scrapes across the skin. A shiver rolls through my body as his head lowers to kiss below my ear.
He breaks away and steps back. My gaze stays on his body as he moves around the kitchen. As he grabs orange juice, his shirt stretches across his bicep. He reaches up to the top cabinet, and denim hugs his backside. I’m not able to look away.
His hand drifts into my line of sight as he requests to sign. You okay? he asks. A smirk lifts the corner of his mouth. He knows exactly how his gorgeous body is distracting me.
I’m fine,I sign back. My eyes roll as I walk to the sink. I’ve got to pull my head together and not let this man tip my world off its axis. It’s so hard to know what’s to come with him and if I’ll be ready or not.
I walk back to the eggs I was preparing for him. I don’t eat breakfast but he probably does. Do you like eggs? I ask. Jamison watches my hands and glances at the bowl when I point to it.
His shoulders shake with laughter. He dips a finger inside the eggs and removes the shells. The smirk remains.
I like eggs,he signs. Of course, as long as they don’t have shells in them. It’s his fault for distracting me.
I take a few moments to get ready and straighten up the living room while he eats. The living room window is open, the breeze rolling in from the mountains in the west bringing the fresh scent of pine. I want my parents to come home to a clean house.
My phone vibrates from my pocket. I pull it out and check the message.
They are discharging him soon. We will be home in a few hours. No need to drive up this morning.
A shadow catches my attention and I glance up. Jamison is leaning against the doorway with a glass of juice. He seems relaxed and comfortable, not as worn and tired. It looks good on him. There’s an edge of panic setting in the longer he watches. He lifts away and pulls his phone from his pocket.
He types, then passes it over. The moment our hands touch, a wave of awareness takes over. I focus on reading his message.
Your mom texted me too. Any plans until your parents get home? I can take you on that next date I have planned.
I glance up, pressing my lips together. I need to finish my morning routine and go for a run, but I could put that off this one time. Changing my routine throws me off some, but I can do this. Where? I sign. This would be our second date. Another adventure with him. Each one is something new and exciting.
He raises his eyebrows and fingerspells, Denali? He’s asking me. He’s grasping American Sign Language more and more every time he communicates with me.
That’s a 3-hour drive, I type.
He hands the phone back. Or a 45-minute flight.
I contemplate and know I’m not ready. My hand is shaking when Jamison takes the phone back and starts typing again.
Or we can take a hike here. My property stretches for acres. Mom bought most of the land for miles behind this cabin. She told me there were hidden treasures out there, even gave me maps and trail markers. Never actually found anything, but she kept me entertained with it as a kid.
He takes the anxiety away with his words again. Sharing his secrets, talking about his mom. Regardless, if I was trying to work up the courage to fly, I want this more. Him sharing a part of his mother with me means so much.
Maybe it’s still out there? I haven”t been treasure hunting since I lost Maddie.
I work to find my boots and gather my parents’ old treasure-hunting stuff. I grab the hand tools, a shovel, and a metal detector. I hold it up for Jamison to inspect, my brows raised. He agrees it could be helpful, so I pass it over and continue collecting things. My parents never parted with these things, even after we lost Maddie. None of us have been out in years, but Jamison has lit a passion in me for this adventure since he’s shared his mom with us.
We head to Jamison’s house next so he can pack us a bag.
I start to wonder if this was all a sly ploy by his mom or if a passionate hunter wanted to give her son an adventure. I’m praying for the latter, because there’s a spark of fun springing up in both of us. After yesterday, we need it.
I catch Jamison’s attention when he zips the bag closed. The bag contains food and water, a compass, and personal locator beacons. He said it was the SAR in him.
Do you still have the map? Any clues?
Jamison contemplates, laughs, and raises a finger, so I give him a moment. When he returns, he points at me, then signs, No laughing.
He passes over a worn notebook. The book is full of scribbled notes and a map. I can’t keep it contained. I laugh, then cover my mouth. It’s seriously the best thing. We are going to find this treasure because he definitely spent some time planning this out as a kid.
He comes in close and takes my face in his hands, his eyes crinkled in the corners. He’s laughing, his shoulders jerking with the movement. Jamison steals my lips, and another piece of my anxiety about us falls away.
When he breaks away, he signs, I love the sound of that.
We spend the rest of the morning searching and actually find a few of the hidden caches she hid.