Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“Come on,” he says, ending the kiss. “Let’s get dressed. We’ll see how Rusty’s doing.”
I playfully jab him in the stomach. “I thought you didn’t care about him?”
Jacob looks at me with that same sincerity. I realize this is the real him, the man behind the stern shield. “I never said that, but I can’t afford to care about him. That’s a very different thing.”
“Just like us,” I whisper. “We care… but we can’t afford to.”
He sighs tiredly, then nods, though it has a forced aura like he’d rather break something. “Yeah, exactly, Emma. Just like us.”
Returning to the living room, it’s like we’ve become different people. I don’t feel the same as the virgin Emma who left this room earlier. Jacob doesn’t seem the same, either. That person is gone now. I’ll never be able to remember what it was like, having not crossed that line.
The blizzard is still raging, so we sit in the living room. I’m not in the mood to paint, so we put on a movie. I lie with my head in his lap. Rusty is curled up at the bottom of the couch, so I’ve got warmth from all angles. Soon, the sound of the blizzard becomes somehow comforting. I press closer into my man, contentment enveloping me.
Then I wake, the fire crackling against my cheeks, letting out a yawn. It’s the deepest, most peaceful sleep I’ve ever had—dreamless, leaving me feeling refreshed and disoriented momentarily. Sitting up, I see morning sunlight slanting through the open windows. Grunting comes from outside. I stand, looking out the window to find Jacob working in the snow, shoveling it away from the porch. It’s piled thickly, almost completely covering the car and the surrounding area. My chest cramps thinking of Dad.
Last night… the intimacy… the betrayal… I still don’t know if Dad is okay.
“Has your phone got a signal?” I say, standing at the front door, the cold instantly making me shiver.
Jacob looks up, his hair glistening with sunlight and sweat, his cheeks slightly red as he works in a light jacket, no gloves, almost like he wants to punish himself. “I spoke to your dad. He’s safe in Little Hope.”
“What’s he doing?” I ask.
Jacob keeps shoveling, Rusty sitting close by, watching curiously. My man moves like a machine. He’s flipped a switch, and the rest is automatic. He turns his back, and I guess that’s how it’s going to be again after all the closeness and heat.
“I don’t know,” he says after a pause. “He wouldn’t tell me.”
There’s something shifty in his tone, just like before Dad left. Is Jacob lying to me?
“Do you need any help?” I ask.
“No, looks like the sun’s going to be shining today. It should thaw. Just helping things along.”
“A coffee or something?”
He smiles over at me, leaning against the shovel. It’s like the ice is melting around him. “Sure, a coffee sounds good.”
After making it, he joins me in the kitchen, shaking the snow from his coat onto the porch and hanging it up. He sits at the table with the steam from the coffee mug shimmering around his strong features, making him look dreamlike, which is fitting, considering last night. He reaches across the table and touches my hand.
“I can’t believe I slept through last night,” I whisper.
He smiles softly, shakily. “You were tired. You looked so peaceful.”
“But the blizzard’s over now.”
He frowns, nodding. He doesn’t need me to explain what I mean by this. When we were trapped, the rest of the world might as well have fallen into a pit. There was nothing but us, the now, the moment. There was nothing but the closeness. Now, there’s everything. As if to prove the point, my phone buzzes from the kitchen counter where I left it. Then it buzzes six more times.
“I guess your signal is back, too.”
He says this almost sadly, highlighting that we’ve entered a new era. Like before, we’re trying to draw a line through what we did. Then he grips my hand hard and leans across the table. He kisses me with an explosion of passion, letting me feel how badly he wants this.
“I can’t resist you,” he says with that tempting huskiness in his voice. “But when I spoke to Mike earlier, it hit me what we did—what I did.”
“What we did,” I tell him. “I wanted it just as badly as you. I’m in the wrong, too.”
“I don’t know what to do.” He sits back, running a hand through his hair. “That’s new for me.”
“What can we do?”
“Tell him,” he says uncertainly but then with more confidence. “We could tell him.”
“Tell him what?”
“That we’re together,” Jacob says.
“Tell him we had sex? Tell him we want to do it again?”
“Not exactly,” Jacob grunts, “but…” Suddenly, he pushes away from the table. “We have to handle Rafael first. All of this is a distraction. That’s how I have to think of it for now. When this is over, we’ll do the right thing.”