by Jill Shalvis
He stopped in the bathroom doorway and looked into her eyes. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m coming back.”
“And staying.”
“And staying.” He lifted a shoulder when she only stared at him. “I walked away from my family and my life here once. I’m not going to do it again.”
There was something new in her eyes now. A light he couldn’t read. “You should tell them that,” she said very softly.
“After I earn my way back into their good graces.”
“Oh, Jacob.” She touched him then, the first time she’d instigated contact, lifting her hand and setting it on his jaw. “They’d be crazy not to want you.”
He let out a short laugh.
“I’m serious.”
“I was a real prick back in the day, Soph. I told you.”
“You weren’t. You were a young kid who’d been hurt by his dad, who had to raise his mom instead of the other way around, and who didn’t know how to deal emotionally. And anyway, it doesn’t matter what you were then. I know who you are now. You come off all big and bad and tough, and those things are true, but you’d also give a perfect stranger the shirt off your back.” She spread her arms out to reveal herself wearing his shirt.
He managed another rough laugh, even though she was killing him. “Maybe I gave it to you because you look hot in it. Especially since you’re cold.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You’re also not a stranger,” he said. “Not even close.”
Her breath caught. “I’m not perfect either.”
From where he stood she was. He opened his mouth to say so, but her finger brushed over his mouth, keeping his words in. He closed his eyes a beat and soaked up her touch. When he felt the fine tremors going through her, he gently nudged her into the bathroom. Leaning past her, he turned the shower on hot and gestured to the towels. “There’s shampoo and soap there. Use whatever you want.”
“See,” she said so softly he could hardly hear her. “One of the good guys.”
To prove it, he left her there, gently shutting the door.
Alone in the hallway, he had to take a deep breath. He was hard, aching with it. He looked down at it. It’s not going where you think…
Shaking his head at himself, he strode into his bedroom, sat on the bed and pulled out his phone. He scrolled through his contacts and stared at Hud’s name for a long moment before pressing the button to contact him. He hit FaceTime for a video call instead of just a voice call because the two of them were having enough communication problems trying to be regular people.
And they weren’t regular people.
They were twins who’d once known what the other was going to think before they even thought it, and he wanted that back, dammit. To get there, he needed to see him, needed to look into his eyes.
“Is it Mom?” Hud asked in lieu of a hello. He was sitting at a desk and looking irritated as hell.
“No,” Jacob said. “She’s fine. I didn’t get a chance to tell you, she found the Twitter.”
“I know. She tweeted Bailey that I couldn’t come out to play today because I was grounded for lying about my grades.” Hud blew out a breath and turned to look at someone, shaking his head with a low laugh. “Bailey says she’ll wait for me.”
Jacob tried to smile but couldn’t.
Hud frowned. “What is it?”
“I’m not trying to buy my way back in. But I can’t deny that I do want back in.”
“I was wrong to say that,” Hud said. “I shouldn’t have.”
Relief washed through Jacob. He didn’t say anything, and for that matter, neither did Hud, but for the first time since he’d come back, the silence between them didn’t seem filled with animosity but rather the kind of quiet they used to have.
“So,” Hud finally said. “Wounded Warriors tomorrow. Kenna told me you’ve both been working your asses off on it.”
“Yeah.” And he’d loved it. “Going to be fun.”
“I’ll be there,” Hud said. “We all will.”
The implied support tightened his throat.
“And I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Hud went on, voice gruff. “Bailey’s been bugging me to have you over—” He broke off and again looked over at someone. He listened a minute and then rolled his eyes. “Okay, bugging is apparently the wrong word here.”
And then Bailey’s face appeared next to Hud’s. “Your twin’s an idiot,” she said. “Finessing a conversation is beyond him.”
Jacob grinned and looked at Hud. “I knew I liked your woman.”
“I’m my own woman,” Bailey said, but she smiled. “And I like you too. So get your ass over here for dinner sometime soon and spend some time with all of us. My other half would like that.”
“Hey,” Hud said to her. “If I can’t call you my woman, then you can’t call me your better half.”
“I didn’t say better,” Bailey said.
Jacob laughed.
Hud smiled and slid his arm around Bailey. “I’ll show you better. Later.”
She waggled a finger in his face, and Hud leaned forward to nip it with his teeth. With a laugh, she pushed off of him.
They had a bond, a hell of one by the looks of it. He wasn’t jealous. He liked knowing his brother had found that. No, what shocked Jacob was that he wanted it too.
“You don’t have to stay away,” Hud said. “There’s plenty of room here at the resort for you with us, with all of us. And then you, too, can be annoyed as shit by the marrieds who seem to think they’re entitled to have sex as many times a day as possible. Or have to deal with the mercurial moods of one evil Kenna Kincaid—”
“I can’t,” Jacob said.
“Right, okay, yeah.” Hud’s smile faded. “I get it. You’re just back for…well hell, I don’t even know, and then you’re out again.”
“I told you I was coming back,” Jacob said, “and I mean it.”
“Then why the hell can’t you stay with us, where you belong?”
Where he belonged. For a minute this struck Jacob completely dumb. He couldn’t talk. He couldn’t breathe. The warmth of it washed over all the cold, hard parts deep inside of him, the change so huge it actually hurt.
“Fine, fuck it,” Hud said, rising to his feet. “I’ve got to go—”
“I can’t stay at the lodge because I bought this cabin,” Jacob said. “But it’s good to know you’re still a hothead.”
Hud didn’t say anything. Not a single sound, and Jacob stared at the phone, trying to figure out if the call had gotten frozen. “Hud?”
“The cabin is yours?”
“Well, technically, it’s the bank’s,” Jacob said, trying to lighten the mood.
But Hud wasn’t interested in lightening the mood. “You bought the fucking cabin. Here in Cedar Ridge. With us.”
“Yeah, well, not exactly there with you,” Jacob said. “Because a little distance from the crazy would be good, but it’s only six miles, so it’s close enough, right?”
For the first time in way too many years, Jacob had the pleasure of seeing Hud smile. It took him only a second to realize it was mirrored on his own face as well. And hope—something he hadn’t allowed himself because it felt like a luxury—bloomed in his chest. Not trusting his voice, he didn’t say a word, but he knew he didn’t have to. Sensing movement, he craned his head and took in the vision in his doorway.
Sophie, in nothing but the scent of his soap and his towel.
“I’ve gotta go,” he said to Hud.
“I know that look,” Bailey murmured.
Hud narrowed his eyes a little and stared at Jacob like maybe he was trying to read him the same way Jacob had tried to do to him only a minute ago. Then Hud’s eyebrows vanished into the hair falling across his forehead. “Looks like maybe there’s something else keeping you in Cedar Ridge besides the cabin.”
“It’s not what you think.”
He smiled. “Wanna bet?”
Jacob blew out a breath. “I’m
disconnecting now.”
Bailey blew him a kiss.
Hud simply nodded and disconnected.
Jacob tossed his phone aside and turned to Sophie.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” she said. Then she paused and grimaced. “Okay, so I did. To be honest, I was shamelessly eavesdropping.” She hugged herself, looking so hauntingly beautiful in his towel, smelling like his soap.
Jacob had to force himself to stay seated. Because if he stood up, he was going to haul her in to him, bury himself deep, and get lost in her eyes, her smile, her voice, her body…
Nope. Not standing up.
“Jacob.” She came into the room, coming close, too damn close, not stopping until she stood between his legs.
Don’t touch her. Don’t— His hands went to her hips. “Soph—”
“I’ve spent a lot of time letting others make me feel like the redheaded bastard stepchild,” she said, “like the easy throwaway.”
“Soph.” He shook his head and held her gaze. “You’re not either of those things.”
“Not when I’m with you, I’m not.” She paused. “Do you still want me, Jacob?”
Always. He held up his forefinger and his thumb, an inch apart. “Little bit.”
She bit her lower lip.
“Or, you know, this much.” And he spread his arms as wide as he could.
She smiled. And then she dropped her towel.
Chapter 24
Sophie blamed Jacob’s shower for her bravado. All that gloriously hot water had gone to her head—and her good parts—as she’d run Jacob’s soap over herself. And then she’d used a faintly damp towel that told her the last person it had touched had been him…
By the time she’d stepped out of his bathroom, she’d been shaky with need, her heart galloping so hard that her ribs were rattling.
She’d heard the low rumble of Jacob’s voice and for a crazy moment she’d wondered what would happen if she went out there and pressed herself up against his big, strong frame and begged to be held.
Touched.
Kissed.
Devoured.
Just until she felt alive again. Until she felt whole again.
She didn’t have that right. Not when she’d set the boundaries.
But then Jacob had turned to face her the moment she stepped through the doorway, his expression unguarded and…and she’d needed him so much she could scarcely breathe.
When she’d admitted to eavesdropping, he’d looked amused. When she’d strode toward him with a confidence and bravado that was pure Academy Award–worthy acting, his eyes had gone molten-lava hot.
And then she’d dropped her towel.
He took her in with eyes gone dark. In just those board shorts riding low on his hips, his skin was darker than hers and stretched over enough muscle on muscle that her mouth went completely dry.
Without thinking, she straddled him, burrowing her face into his neck, taking a long, slow breath of the essence of Jacob Kincaid.
It should be bottled.
No, scratch that. She didn’t want to share him with anyone. She ran a hand down over the sculpted landscape of his chest to rest over his heart, feeling the beat of it through her palm, steady. Rock steady. Her fingers stroked a little, liking the feel of his heated skin, the way his nipple hardened beneath her touch.
“Sophie.” The underlying emotion in the way he said her name took her breath. His voice was low, more than a little strained, and beneath her fingers, his heart pumped a little faster.
Not so steady now. Don’t stop me…Leaning in, she nuzzled the soft skin just under his ear, enjoying the way his hands tightened on her. She felt him take a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Please don’t stop me…
“Soph.”
“Please,” she whispered. She sank her teeth into his earlobe and then flicked her tongue over it, a full-body shudder racking her when Jacob hissed in a breath. “Please, Jacob.”
At her plea, he groaned as his hands slid to her bare ass, squeezing, making her stomach clench with anticipation. She lifted her face to say it again, but he cupped the back of her head and covered her mouth with his.
Had she been cold to the core only a few minutes ago? Because now heat suffused her, starting from her center and working its way out, tightening her nipples into two hard little beads, spreading southbound to rev up ground zero. Had she ever felt like this with anyone else? Never.
She’d been doing her best to resist him, but that was turning out to be like trying to hold back the tide. No matter what you did, it was going to come in. And something else was coming…a massive tidal wave of desire, trying to pull her under.
Jacob gently nudged her back so he could stand and drop his board shorts, and…sweet baby Jesus. She’d thought she had the image of his perfect, naked bod imprinted and permanently etched on her brain, but her recollection was flawed. He was even better than she remembered.
Smirking at what was probably a dumbstruck expression on her face, he hit his knees, his eyes dark and intense and locked on hers before traveling slowly down the length of her body. “Mmm,” rumbled from deep in his throat as his hands glided up the backs of her thighs. “Pretty.”
She felt such a rush she shuddered. Catching it, he smiled a very badass smile, cupped her ass in his hands, leaned in, and put his mouth on her.
Her head fell back and her mouth opened because she needed it that way just to breathe. She felt him smile against her as he worked his magic with his very talented, ingenious tongue and diabolical fingers.
In shockingly little time he had her on the edge, two fistfuls of his hair in her hands, panting for breath while simultaneously begging him to “pleasedon’tstop, pleasedon’tstop, pleasedon’tstop…”
He didn’t. Of course he didn’t. Because Jacob was a man of his word, as she was learning. Or in this case, a man of his tongue.
And, oh God, that tongue.
When she came, hard, her legs buckled, but Jacob caught her, bringing her straight down onto him, sheathing himself deep within her.
She immediately came again, completely out of control and unable to do anything but hold on for the ride. When she could unclench her toes, she opened her eyes and realized he hadn’t moved. His blazing-hot gaze held hers.
“Condom,” he grounded out, his entire body strained, strung tight as a bow.
Good God, for the first time in…well, forever, she hadn’t given a single thought to her own protection—or his. She hadn’t thought at all. “I’m on the pill,” she whispered. “And I’m…safe. I had myself checked.” She’d done so right after finding out about Lucas’s extramarital activities and then again more recently to be doubly sure.
Jacob banded his arms around her tight and kissed her. “Before I met you, I hadn’t been with anyone in two years.”
She gaped at him. Two years? Cupping his face, she leaned in and kissed him softly. And then not so softly, getting a feminine rush when his breathing hitched. Letting her hands drift over every part of him that she could reach, she reveled in the low groan she wrenched from him and began to move.
He assisted, his hands at her hips, gaze locked on hers, holding her prisoner. A willing prisoner.
They ended up on the floor. Then against the door. And then last but not least in the shower, leaving her to wonder if he was even human.
By then it was dark and past her bedtime. She was rag-doll floppy, sated beyond her greatest imagination and making contented, purring noises that she couldn’t seem to control.
This left Jacob to towel her off from their shower, as she was unable to lift a finger to help him. But she did manage to lift a finger—all of them, in fact—to touch him, trailing her fingertips across his chest and abs, which contracted at her touch.
When his body rose to the challenge, she had to laugh. “Aren’t
