Jasper loved that timepiece. Callie understood what he’d meant by the gesture of returning it and a soft spark fluttered in her belly as she looked up at him. Yes, she was softening, and part of her was afraid of what the emotions could do to her. It had taken so little for Jasper to burrow back into her life, under her skin. To force himself into her heart again and prove that she couldn’t lock him out completely, no matter how desperate she’d been to do it. She was vulnerable to him when she couldn’t afford to be vulnerable ever again.
Even as she thought it, another part of her bloomed with hope like a daffodil coming to life after a long, cold winter. “Jasper.”
“I’m going to kiss you now. Don’t hit me, all right?”
She frowned. “Why would you—?”
“—want to kiss my own wife?” He smiled. At first she thought he was being cruel, but she couldn’t possibly misunderstand for long. It was in the set of his jaw, the arms holding her tight and the solid body pressing against her through the layers of clothing between them. “God, Callie. I’ve wanted nothing else than to have you in my arms once again, whole and safe.”
She didn’t argue his idea of “whole.” Not now when his words and voice made her want to lean into him and the fingers of her good hand curled into the fabric covering his arm. In all the time she’d been consumed by pain and horror—not to mention anger—she’d never once thought there would ever be anything for her beyond that. She hadn’t thought about laughing again. Or kissing. Or sex. She hadn’t thought there might still be a life for her to lead. Not until this moment when that life suddenly seemed possible again, real again.
Now she couldn’t take her gaze from his mouth, couldn’t stop thinking about Jasper’s kiss. She sucked the corner of her upper lip and worried it between her teeth.
He groaned. “I love when you do that.”
That surprised her. It was something she did involuntarily and hadn’t really noticed before. Jasper had certainly never brought it up in the past, at least not that she could remember. “Why?”
“Because it always means you’re thinking about me,” he said with the ghost of a grin that raised memories of playful afternoons in bed. “About kissing me, and how it will make you feel.”
“During the harsh light of day, right here in public where anybody could be watching?”
A crisp breeze had picked up, slapping the hem of her coat against her legs, which she couldn’t feel. She could, however, feel the chill teasing the back of her neck where her short hair failed to protect exposed skin. And she could see the pink settling into Jasper’s cheeks, beneath the stubble coating his face because he still hadn’t shaved. She could feel the quickening of her blood as she looked at his mouth, the moisture on her lips as she pressed them together in anticipation.
“What better time than the bright light of day when I can watch the way you blossom under my touch?” he answered. “What better place than here, so everyone else who sees will know you’re mine?”
He lowered his face to the curve of her neck. The prickly hair on his chin scraped gently, making her shiver, but not so much as his hot breath, or his lips as he parted them over her skin and his tongue tasted her.
His kisses moved to the underside of her jaw. His hands slipped up the middle of her back until he cupped her face and looked right into her eyes. One green, and the other a gunmetal gray.
It was the first time that Callie’s instinct wasn’t to retreat and hide herself away when someone looked at her. She might not be beautiful anymore. She might never dance again. But just maybe she was strong enough that it didn’t matter…and her life could have purpose. Her life could have meaning.
He lowered his head again and his mouth covered hers. Tentative at first, as if expecting her to bolt, but then more firmly when she didn’t. Callie
Even as she thought it, another part of her bloomed with hope like a daffodil coming to life after a long, cold winter. “Jasper.”
“I’m going to kiss you now. Don’t hit me, all right?”
She frowned. “Why would you—?”
“—want to kiss my own wife?” He smiled. At first she thought he was being cruel, but she couldn’t possibly misunderstand for long. It was in the set of his jaw, the arms holding her tight and the solid body pressing against her through the layers of clothing between them. “God, Callie. I’ve wanted nothing else than to have you in my arms once again, whole and safe.”
She didn’t argue his idea of “whole.” Not now when his words and voice made her want to lean into him and the fingers of her good hand curled into the fabric covering his arm. In all the time she’d been consumed by pain and horror—not to mention anger—she’d never once thought there would ever be anything for her beyond that. She hadn’t thought about laughing again. Or kissing. Or sex. She hadn’t thought there might still be a life for her to lead. Not until this moment when that life suddenly seemed possible again, real again.
Now she couldn’t take her gaze from his mouth, couldn’t stop thinking about Jasper’s kiss. She sucked the corner of her upper lip and worried it between her teeth.
He groaned. “I love when you do that.”
That surprised her. It was something she did involuntarily and hadn’t really noticed before. Jasper had certainly never brought it up in the past, at least not that she could remember. “Why?”
“Because it always means you’re thinking about me,” he said with the ghost of a grin that raised memories of playful afternoons in bed. “About kissing me, and how it will make you feel.”
“During the harsh light of day, right here in public where anybody could be watching?”
A crisp breeze had picked up, slapping the hem of her coat against her legs, which she couldn’t feel. She could, however, feel the chill teasing the back of her neck where her short hair failed to protect exposed skin. And she could see the pink settling into Jasper’s cheeks, beneath the stubble coating his face because he still hadn’t shaved. She could feel the quickening of her blood as she looked at his mouth, the moisture on her lips as she pressed them together in anticipation.
“What better time than the bright light of day when I can watch the way you blossom under my touch?” he answered. “What better place than here, so everyone else who sees will know you’re mine?”
He lowered his face to the curve of her neck. The prickly hair on his chin scraped gently, making her shiver, but not so much as his hot breath, or his lips as he parted them over her skin and his tongue tasted her.
His kisses moved to the underside of her jaw. His hands slipped up the middle of her back until he cupped her face and looked right into her eyes. One green, and the other a gunmetal gray.
It was the first time that Callie’s instinct wasn’t to retreat and hide herself away when someone looked at her. She might not be beautiful anymore. She might never dance again. But just maybe she was strong enough that it didn’t matter…and her life could have purpose. Her life could have meaning.
He lowered his head again and his mouth covered hers. Tentative at first, as if expecting her to bolt, but then more firmly when she didn’t. Callie
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