Hit the Spot

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.

I was right. We did eat before we had sex. Only Jamie didn’t fuck me like he originally implied.

We made love.

It was slow. It was sweet. It was unbelievably hot. It was a little sticky, on account of the syrup.

It was right.

It was perfect.

* * *

The wind was in my hair. The sun was beating down on my skin.

I had my arms circled around Jamie’s waist, hands locked together on his stomach. My eyes were pinched shut and my face was buried in his back.

You’d think I wasn’t enjoying my first ride on Jamie’s bike, but I was totally enjoying it.

I was too scared to open my eyes. I was terrified of the other cars around us. But this … felt … amazing.

And Jamie knew I was liking it. Even though I had a death grip on him and my body was rigid and showing signs of anxiety, my laughter and squeals every time he sped up were letting him know differently. Plus, every time we stopped, I hollered out, “This is awesome!” over the rumbling of the pipes.

It was awesome. I could totally get used to traveling like this and hopefully open my eyes eventually.

Last night Jamie asked me to move in and expressed his desire for everything a future could hold with me, then we made love and I fell asleep with one of the biggest smiles on my face, happier than I could remember ever being.

That happiness was possibly getting trumped today.

The sun was high in the sky, on account of it being close to noon. It was a beautiful day. Jamie was taking me to work and then picking me up after, and then?

Then we were starting the process of me moving in.

Pack. Discuss what was going with me and what I could either sell or get rid of. Talk to Jamie’s dad about eventually listing my house and all the details involved in that.

I wasn’t scared. Not anymore. Not one bit.

Clinging to Jamie as he whipped us down the highway with what felt like lightning speed, I was terrified. Enjoying it, but terrified.

But moving in with the man I wanted down the road with, nope. Not at all.

Bring. It. On.

The bike slowed down and I peeked an eye open, thinking we were coming to another red light but then seeing the side of Whitecaps, its worn white wood and boat-style windows, and realizing we’d arrived.

The parking lot was nearly full, meaning we were slammed already, and there were also groups of people walking up from the beach and others heading back down the sandy path that led to it with bags in their hands.

That was typical for a Saturday when it was still warm out. People either came in to eat to get a break from the sun or took their food to go.

Either way, Whitecaps was going to make a killing today by the looks of it.

The gravel popped under the tires as Jamie pulled us into the parking lot. I sat up tall, both eyes open now, and watched heads turn and gazes follow Jamie, especially the women who were outside. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">