Hit the Spot
Page 81
I couldn’t sip tea right now. Not with Jamie looking at me like that. Not when I knew the next words out of his mouth were going to hit my soft, sink in deep, and stay there.
“You couldn’t sleep ’cause I didn’t tell you I was with you on that,” he suggested, eyes soft and voice lowered.
I wiped my hand across my mouth, then I nodded my head and lowered my eyes, staring at the label on my bottle.
“Look at me, babe.”
I lifted my eyes again.
“Tense all night. Worryin’ I wasn’t feelin’ you. That wasn’t the case,” Jamie began to explain. “Just came in a woman for the first time. That woman bein’ you. I was processin’ shit. Not three weeks ago you wanted nothin’ to do with me. Now we’re here, you’re talkin’ about forever—”
“I know,” I interrupted him, sighing heavily. See! Never should’ve said it. “I was being stupid, okay? I didn’t—”
“You don’t know,” Jamie shot back, interrupting me this time. “And you weren’t bein’ stupid. You were feelin’ something and you shared it. That happens, no matter what it is you’re tellin’ me, that ain’t you bein’ stupid.”
“Okay,” I said, mouth twitching. That was nice to hear. Still, there was a problem. “But now I’m, like, twenty steps ahead of you,” I pointed out.
He smiled then. What the hell?
“This isn’t funny, Jamie,” I hissed.
“It’s funny, babe,” he returned, reaching up and scratching his jaw. “You thinkin’ you’re ahead of me is fuckin’ hilarious.”
“No, it’s not. It’s embarrassing.”
He smiled bigger.
“Stop smiling!” I snapped.
“Catchin’ up,” he muttered.
I squinted at him, head tilting slightly. “What?”
“You,” he said, hand lowering back down and curling around the counter. “Catchin’ up.”
It hit me then, what Jamie was leading at. He’d been twenty steps ahead of me this entire time.
Breath catching, I righted my head and stopped squinting.
“You get what I’m sayin’ now?” he asked, still smiling but doing it softer.
“I get what you’re saying.”
“Good.” That smile he was wearing grew brighter again. “Now, are you gonna keep sittin’ there or are you gonna come here? I wanna hold you without you bein’ wound tight.”
I set my tea aside and slid off the counter, then I started moving.
“It’s really only been three weeks?” I asked when I reached him, thinking back to what he’d said. My hands curled around his smooth hips.
Three weeks didn’t seem right.
“Just about,” he answered, his arms around me, his head dipping down and his mouth pressing to my forehead.
“It feels longer than that,” I said, feeling his arms tighten and give me a squeeze in response. I slid my hands around his back and pressed closer, face lifting to hide in his neck. “I know I said forever,” I murmured. “And I know you said you’re with me on that, but I’m good with us taking the rest of the steps as they come. Together. We can go slow. We don’t have to keep skipping ahead.”
“I want you movin’ in with me,” Jamie shared.
My back snapped straight. I leaned away and gaped at him. “I just said we don’t have to keep skipping ahead,” I repeated, voice rising an octave higher.
Did he not hear me?
“How the fuck is you movin’ in with me skippin’ ahead?” he questioned, brows drawn, his arms still keeping tight hold on me as if he was preventing my escape. “Just said forever, babe. What do you think that means? I’m not gonna shack up with you?”
My shoulders sagged. He had a point.
“Well …” I paused, wetting my lips. “I don’t know. I just … why can’t you move in here? My house is nice.”
Jamie smirked. “Ain’t as nice as mine.”
My eyes narrowed as I tipped my chin up. “Your house is only nicer because you have a better view,” I argued. “It’s way too big, Jamie. What do you have, seven bedrooms? You don’t use them. That’s just space that collects dust.”
“Won’t be once you start poppin’ out my kids. We’ll fill it.”
My eyes were no longer narrowed. They were taking up the majority of my face. I just knew it.
Poppin’ out his kids? KIDS?
“Babe,” Jamie laughed, looking down at me.
Yep. Totally taking up my face.
“I said quit skipping steps!” I cried, rolling up onto my toes to get closer.
“You’re freakin’ out,” Jamie observed, mouth stretched wide and dimples showing.
“Of course I’m freaking out.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re …” I paused, staring at Jamie’s smile, his dimples, his bright blue eyes.
Why was I freaking out?
“I don’t know,” I answered finally, voice quieter. I rocked back onto my heels. “You can’t talk about that stuff unless you really mean it,” I blurted out.
There it was. That was my why.
“Legs, for real, you’re movin’ in. What’d you think is comin’ down the road, babe?” Jamie asked, laughter faded out now but the smile he had going with it still holding.
I blinked up at him as I thought on that, down the road with Jamie, and all that could entail, not thinking I looked a certain way while I envisioned it but apparently I did.
Jamie’s smile faded even more until there wasn’t a trace of it left. The brightness in his eyes dimmed. His arms were no longer holding tight to me because his hands were coming up to cup my face.
“Hey,” he murmured, eyes filling with warmth. With love.
My chest tightened.
He loved me. Jamie McCade loved me and wanted down the road with me.
My God. That felt amazing.
And right. And perfect. And I no longer felt that fear holding me back.
And since it was no longer holding me back, I hurled myself forward, nothing stopping me.
I slammed Jamie against the counter he was already leaning on, causing him to grunt, drew my arms tight around his back, and crashed my full weight into his chest—which forced his hands to slide to the back of my head and palm there. Face turning, I flattened my cheek on his beating heart and closed my eyes.
I didn’t say anything and neither did he.
But he did shift his hands a little, one staying on the back of my head and the other sliding lower and then curling around my waist so his arm was holding me, too. His head dipped down. I felt his breath blowing across the top of my head.
This felt right, too. And perfect. So perfect I didn’t want to move.
But then my stomach made a noise like I had an animal in there and it was dying of hunger.
“Um …” I murmured.
Jamie started laughing a second before I did.
Then we separated, but only so I could watch Jamie make us homemade pancakes and staying glued to his front made that a challenge. When it was time to eat and we’d made it to the couch, I was back to pressing close. I sat on his lap, feeding him and myself from the same plate while Jamie channel surfed.
“You couldn’t sleep ’cause I didn’t tell you I was with you on that,” he suggested, eyes soft and voice lowered.
I wiped my hand across my mouth, then I nodded my head and lowered my eyes, staring at the label on my bottle.
“Look at me, babe.”
I lifted my eyes again.
“Tense all night. Worryin’ I wasn’t feelin’ you. That wasn’t the case,” Jamie began to explain. “Just came in a woman for the first time. That woman bein’ you. I was processin’ shit. Not three weeks ago you wanted nothin’ to do with me. Now we’re here, you’re talkin’ about forever—”
“I know,” I interrupted him, sighing heavily. See! Never should’ve said it. “I was being stupid, okay? I didn’t—”
“You don’t know,” Jamie shot back, interrupting me this time. “And you weren’t bein’ stupid. You were feelin’ something and you shared it. That happens, no matter what it is you’re tellin’ me, that ain’t you bein’ stupid.”
“Okay,” I said, mouth twitching. That was nice to hear. Still, there was a problem. “But now I’m, like, twenty steps ahead of you,” I pointed out.
He smiled then. What the hell?
“This isn’t funny, Jamie,” I hissed.
“It’s funny, babe,” he returned, reaching up and scratching his jaw. “You thinkin’ you’re ahead of me is fuckin’ hilarious.”
“No, it’s not. It’s embarrassing.”
He smiled bigger.
“Stop smiling!” I snapped.
“Catchin’ up,” he muttered.
I squinted at him, head tilting slightly. “What?”
“You,” he said, hand lowering back down and curling around the counter. “Catchin’ up.”
It hit me then, what Jamie was leading at. He’d been twenty steps ahead of me this entire time.
Breath catching, I righted my head and stopped squinting.
“You get what I’m sayin’ now?” he asked, still smiling but doing it softer.
“I get what you’re saying.”
“Good.” That smile he was wearing grew brighter again. “Now, are you gonna keep sittin’ there or are you gonna come here? I wanna hold you without you bein’ wound tight.”
I set my tea aside and slid off the counter, then I started moving.
“It’s really only been three weeks?” I asked when I reached him, thinking back to what he’d said. My hands curled around his smooth hips.
Three weeks didn’t seem right.
“Just about,” he answered, his arms around me, his head dipping down and his mouth pressing to my forehead.
“It feels longer than that,” I said, feeling his arms tighten and give me a squeeze in response. I slid my hands around his back and pressed closer, face lifting to hide in his neck. “I know I said forever,” I murmured. “And I know you said you’re with me on that, but I’m good with us taking the rest of the steps as they come. Together. We can go slow. We don’t have to keep skipping ahead.”
“I want you movin’ in with me,” Jamie shared.
My back snapped straight. I leaned away and gaped at him. “I just said we don’t have to keep skipping ahead,” I repeated, voice rising an octave higher.
Did he not hear me?
“How the fuck is you movin’ in with me skippin’ ahead?” he questioned, brows drawn, his arms still keeping tight hold on me as if he was preventing my escape. “Just said forever, babe. What do you think that means? I’m not gonna shack up with you?”
My shoulders sagged. He had a point.
“Well …” I paused, wetting my lips. “I don’t know. I just … why can’t you move in here? My house is nice.”
Jamie smirked. “Ain’t as nice as mine.”
My eyes narrowed as I tipped my chin up. “Your house is only nicer because you have a better view,” I argued. “It’s way too big, Jamie. What do you have, seven bedrooms? You don’t use them. That’s just space that collects dust.”
“Won’t be once you start poppin’ out my kids. We’ll fill it.”
My eyes were no longer narrowed. They were taking up the majority of my face. I just knew it.
Poppin’ out his kids? KIDS?
“Babe,” Jamie laughed, looking down at me.
Yep. Totally taking up my face.
“I said quit skipping steps!” I cried, rolling up onto my toes to get closer.
“You’re freakin’ out,” Jamie observed, mouth stretched wide and dimples showing.
“Of course I’m freaking out.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re …” I paused, staring at Jamie’s smile, his dimples, his bright blue eyes.
Why was I freaking out?
“I don’t know,” I answered finally, voice quieter. I rocked back onto my heels. “You can’t talk about that stuff unless you really mean it,” I blurted out.
There it was. That was my why.
“Legs, for real, you’re movin’ in. What’d you think is comin’ down the road, babe?” Jamie asked, laughter faded out now but the smile he had going with it still holding.
I blinked up at him as I thought on that, down the road with Jamie, and all that could entail, not thinking I looked a certain way while I envisioned it but apparently I did.
Jamie’s smile faded even more until there wasn’t a trace of it left. The brightness in his eyes dimmed. His arms were no longer holding tight to me because his hands were coming up to cup my face.
“Hey,” he murmured, eyes filling with warmth. With love.
My chest tightened.
He loved me. Jamie McCade loved me and wanted down the road with me.
My God. That felt amazing.
And right. And perfect. And I no longer felt that fear holding me back.
And since it was no longer holding me back, I hurled myself forward, nothing stopping me.
I slammed Jamie against the counter he was already leaning on, causing him to grunt, drew my arms tight around his back, and crashed my full weight into his chest—which forced his hands to slide to the back of my head and palm there. Face turning, I flattened my cheek on his beating heart and closed my eyes.
I didn’t say anything and neither did he.
But he did shift his hands a little, one staying on the back of my head and the other sliding lower and then curling around my waist so his arm was holding me, too. His head dipped down. I felt his breath blowing across the top of my head.
This felt right, too. And perfect. So perfect I didn’t want to move.
But then my stomach made a noise like I had an animal in there and it was dying of hunger.
“Um …” I murmured.
Jamie started laughing a second before I did.
Then we separated, but only so I could watch Jamie make us homemade pancakes and staying glued to his front made that a challenge. When it was time to eat and we’d made it to the couch, I was back to pressing close. I sat on his lap, feeding him and myself from the same plate while Jamie channel surfed.
