likely awakened without a care in the world. Even though it was a nice little mental vacation, a gift even, she disliked the fact Jamison’s mind had been manipulated...along with memories of a half dozen other people last night. As far as she could remember, no clean-up had gone that far before, and it probably could have ended with Jamison had she told the others Jamison was still in the tree house. But whatever the ultimate fall-out over the incident, she couldn’t let it interfere with her assignment.
Skye checked her internal thermometer, then reached for the knob on the car heater. Jamison’s sudden growl made her snatch her hand back before she could turn it down.
His feet stomped, his knees bumped the glove box, and his hands pounded the dash a dozen times. He got some good force behind the fist that slid sideways against the door with a boom, and the violence ended.
“It’s so unfair! I just got him back!”
“It’s all right, Jamie. Really it is.”
His hands started pounding again, as if the car had decided to fight him back, but it ended after a couple of thumps.
Maybe calling him Jamie, as Kenneth did, wasn’t such a hot idea. But it had felt good, like she’d finally pronounced his name right.
When he could catch his breath he muttered, “I’ve had to do without him for five years. I feel so cheated.”
“I’m so sorry.” She squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry for you all. But Kenneth is going to need something from you.”
Jamison turned to face her. “What?”
“The time will come when you’ll have to let him stop fighting.”
“He fights because he’s a fighter.” He faced forward again and glared at the offensive dashboard.
“Maybe he was once. But now he fights for his family. He’ll keep on fighting, even after it’s useless, if you let him. You’re going to have to watch for the time when he should let go. And he’s going to need convincing that you’ll be okay without him.”
“What do I do? Pretend I don’t need him anymore, so he can let go and die? I couldn’t do that. I need him and he knows it.”
“Yes, he knows it. And for now, he needs you too.”
His hand smoothed over the abused leather of the door. “Sorry. I’m not the tantrum type. I promise.”
He’d changed the subject. She took the hint.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s a tough car.”
“Yeah. My Honda would have been totaled.” He faced her and smiled. Then he looked at her mouth and the smile dropped away. While she watched in fascination, Jamison’s arm snaked behind her. “I’m so glad you were here.” He gave her a little hug.
She hugged him back, wishing so much to have been able to feel the pressure of it. When he eventually loosened his hold, she looked in his eyes. Their faces were only inches apart. She could almost taste the warmth of his skin.
She’d imagined all kinds of cravings, for all kinds of flavors during her short existence, but never for the taste of someone.
He was looking at her lips so intently she didn’t dare move them. His lashes were incredibly long, golden brown. His nostrils flared suddenly and the entire world tilted with his face as he moved forward. His mouth met hers as smoothly as...breathing.
She focused her conscious thought to the rise and fall of his chest, to his nearness, and she could have wept for her lack of taste in her mouth or sensation in her lips. For the first time, she mourned for the depth of experience lost to her. This wasn’t the smell or feel of peaches, or the taste of corn coming apart in her mouth. This was mortality beneath her hands, against her fingers...and completely out of her reach.
He pulled his arms from around her, put his hands to either side of her face, and looked into her eyes. And suddenly Skye felt ‘seen’ for the very first time. She imagined her true self inside her head, jumping up and down, waving at him, yelling, “hello!”
She was struggling for the right words to say; something cool,
Skye checked her internal thermometer, then reached for the knob on the car heater. Jamison’s sudden growl made her snatch her hand back before she could turn it down.
His feet stomped, his knees bumped the glove box, and his hands pounded the dash a dozen times. He got some good force behind the fist that slid sideways against the door with a boom, and the violence ended.
“It’s so unfair! I just got him back!”
“It’s all right, Jamie. Really it is.”
His hands started pounding again, as if the car had decided to fight him back, but it ended after a couple of thumps.
Maybe calling him Jamie, as Kenneth did, wasn’t such a hot idea. But it had felt good, like she’d finally pronounced his name right.
When he could catch his breath he muttered, “I’ve had to do without him for five years. I feel so cheated.”
“I’m so sorry.” She squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry for you all. But Kenneth is going to need something from you.”
Jamison turned to face her. “What?”
“The time will come when you’ll have to let him stop fighting.”
“He fights because he’s a fighter.” He faced forward again and glared at the offensive dashboard.
“Maybe he was once. But now he fights for his family. He’ll keep on fighting, even after it’s useless, if you let him. You’re going to have to watch for the time when he should let go. And he’s going to need convincing that you’ll be okay without him.”
“What do I do? Pretend I don’t need him anymore, so he can let go and die? I couldn’t do that. I need him and he knows it.”
“Yes, he knows it. And for now, he needs you too.”
His hand smoothed over the abused leather of the door. “Sorry. I’m not the tantrum type. I promise.”
He’d changed the subject. She took the hint.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s a tough car.”
“Yeah. My Honda would have been totaled.” He faced her and smiled. Then he looked at her mouth and the smile dropped away. While she watched in fascination, Jamison’s arm snaked behind her. “I’m so glad you were here.” He gave her a little hug.
She hugged him back, wishing so much to have been able to feel the pressure of it. When he eventually loosened his hold, she looked in his eyes. Their faces were only inches apart. She could almost taste the warmth of his skin.
She’d imagined all kinds of cravings, for all kinds of flavors during her short existence, but never for the taste of someone.
He was looking at her lips so intently she didn’t dare move them. His lashes were incredibly long, golden brown. His nostrils flared suddenly and the entire world tilted with his face as he moved forward. His mouth met hers as smoothly as...breathing.
She focused her conscious thought to the rise and fall of his chest, to his nearness, and she could have wept for her lack of taste in her mouth or sensation in her lips. For the first time, she mourned for the depth of experience lost to her. This wasn’t the smell or feel of peaches, or the taste of corn coming apart in her mouth. This was mortality beneath her hands, against her fingers...and completely out of her reach.
He pulled his arms from around her, put his hands to either side of her face, and looked into her eyes. And suddenly Skye felt ‘seen’ for the very first time. She imagined her true self inside her head, jumping up and down, waving at him, yelling, “hello!”
She was struggling for the right words to say; something cool,
Similar Books
![Training Their Mate [Pack Wars-Book 1]](https://fs.dianahicksbooks.com/559068/thumbs/152x264/training-their-mate-pack-wars-book-1.jpg)
