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Chapter Twenty-Two
Ryan
There was a time in my life where being in Sara’s company, even after a short period of time, was enough to drive me to drink. I know that’s horrible to say, but it’s true. The writing was on the damn wall in black paint well before the relationship officially ended.
She used to do this thing where she’d finger comb her hair with one hand and scroll through her social media feed with the other, paying absolutely zero attention to me or anyone else in the vicinity. I could have told her dancing elephants were in the room or that I wasn’t wearing pants while dining at whatever fancy restaurant in the art district of Manhattan she begged me to take her to. Sara never paid attention to me unless it could directly boost her social status, and at times it was enough just to stick out the three-hour date.
Now Jaime? I want to be with her for hours, days, a lifetime. I don’t ever want my time with her to end. I need her in my bed, in my home, and in my life. Period. In just the short time that I’ve known her, she has become my everything. When she’s not with me, I’m lonely. When she’s with me, I’m more content than ever before. I’m rushing headlong towards the cliff of Happily Ever After, at the corner of Matrimony Way and Forever Drive.
And you know what?
I’m ready.
If I could ask Jaime to spend the rest of her life with me right now, I would. But I don’t think she’s ready. Hell, deep down, I’m probably not quite ready. Not only have we not known each other for very long, we’re both coming out of serious relationships, which come with scars. For me, they’re surface scars, but that doesn’t make them any less visible. Jaime’s scars, on the other hand, aren’t skin deep. She’s still healing, whether she wants to admit it or not, and the last thing I need to do is push her away by talking about china patterns and reception venues.
No, instead, I’ll take my time, savoring each moment I get with her. We’ll create new memories that will smother the ones that fuckstick left her with. I’ll work on replacing everything bad with new, beautiful things, because that’s what she deserves, and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to give her everything.
“Want to go for a walk?” I ask Jaime after we gorge on lasagna and garlic bread. Between the mouthwatering Italian food and the gorgeous woman beside me, this meal ranks in the top five meals ever consumed, that’s for sure.
“Sure,” she replies, offering me her hand.
Together, we walk hand-in-hand out the back door. The younger couple is sitting on the back deck, watching the waves crash along the shore. After a friendly wave to the others, I lead Jaime towards the gray sandy beach forty yards out.
For a bit, we walk quietly along the wet sand. I have her flip-flops and my own dangling from one hand, her soft hand in my other. Every so often, she bends down to pick up a seashell, and before too long, she has her hand full of iridescent shells of every shape and size. I could probably release her hand so she can collect more, but she’s not volunteering to let go either, so I’ll hold on a little longer.
“I can’t believe how beautiful it is here,” she says, watching the whitecaps crash on the beach, while we stroll leisurely along.
“I agree,” I say as we head into the ocean. We don’t walk out far–only ankle deep. It’s just enough to feel the wet sand beneath our toes and the cool water wash over our skin.
“Tell me about the Hazelton place. I hear they’ve been considering putting in their own bowling alley.”
Before I answer, I glance over. Her brown hair is blowing in the breeze, and she looks about as carefree as you can possibly be. The image causes a smile to slide up the corner of my lips. “Well, there isn’t a bowling alley in the plans as of right now. Though, I guess it wouldn’t surprise me since he was a champion bowler back in the 80’s.
“They’ve been super easy to work with since they had an idea of what they wanted from the start. I was able to take their specifications and help them find a layout. They didn’t make too many changes to the original plan, just a few tweaks here and there.”
“I bet it’s going to be amazing when you’re finished.”
“It will be. This is, by far, the biggest job I’ve ever completed. I’m eager to see what the finished product is going to look like.”
“I’m sure they’re going to love it,” she adds with an encouraging smile.
And because I can’t help it, I stop her and steal a kiss. It’s a slow, tease of a kiss that leaves my pants tight and my blood pumping. That’s exactly what happens every time my lips lock with hers. I want more, and if the way she slides against my chest and purrs is any indication, she’s ready for more too.
But not yet, pushing aside my growing lust, I start to walk again. Jaime follows suit, grinning and gazing up at me from beneath those long, dark lashes. The smile I give her in return lets her know I’m thinking the exact same thing she is: I can’t wait for later.
“So you’re building a huge masterpiece for someone else, but have you ever thought of building your own place? Or are you going to rent from Mrs. Hanson for the rest of your life?” she asks, humor laces with each word.
“Oh, I’ve thought of it. When I was in New York, I knew I wasn’t going to stay forever, so I didn’t put much stock into the idea. But as soon as I set foot in Jupiter Bay, I started giving it a little more consideration.”
“You should do it. There’s plenty of land around to develop. Unless you’re wanting directly along the Bay. Those parcels of land are going for a pretty penny.” Jaime stops in her tracks, our hands pulled until they’re almost apart.
“What?”
“Unless you’re not staying around here. I mean, you might plan to head back to New York someday,” she says, her words trailing off until the last is barely audible.
My eyes widen as I take in her stricken face. “No,” I say loud and forcefully. “I’m not leaving. I’m not going back to New York. Not now, not ever.”
“You can’t be sure of that though, right?” Again, her words are a hush.
