sentiment, and hold it close.
Hence, him being on her doorstep.
She’d texted. He’d come.
But now it was almost one in the morning. The house was dark, except for the bright white lights of her Christmas tree in the family room.
And he was looming on her porch like a burglar in the middle of the night.
He’d texted and waited in his car.
Had texted again before going onto the porch and trying the handle, wanting to make sure she’d locked up behind herself, if she was, in fact, sleeping.
She had.
But now he’d driven over here and was finding it very hard to leave.
He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to make sure she wasn’t going to retreat—
The door opened, revealing legs in fuzzy striped pajama pants, her breasts barely contained in a pale blue top with dangerously thin straps, and Kate looking up at him with sleepy eyes and a warm smile.
“I didn’t hear my phone,” she murmured.
Jaime ran a finger down one of those thin straps. “Want me to go and let you sleep?”
A shake of her head.
Then she stepped forward and into his arms. “I love you.”
The impact of her words was visceral. A sheer punch to the gut that had him sucking in a breath and fighting against the urge to drag her closer, to slant his mouth across hers, to kiss her with every ounce of joy those words brought.
But then she kept talking. “It terrifies me, but I do, baby. I do love you. But . . . I don’t know if I’m ready to.” She shook her head, stepped back. “I know that doesn’t make the least bit of sense. How can I love you but not be ready? Because I feel it so strongly here”—she thumped a fist on her chest, over her heart—“but I’m terrified that I’m going to get caught in a maelstrom, that I’m going to let it in, and then I’ll be lost, blown to the four corners of the world and not able to find my way back.”
God, he loved this woman.
If he’d thought it had taken courage to tell her friends what he was feeling, this was so much more.
This was the depth of her vulnerability laid bare.
He threaded his hand in her hair, stepped close enough that her body was pressed to his, front to front. “I can’t take away your fear.”
She blinked, lips parting. “Wh-what?”
“I can’t make you not afraid, Red.”
Her breath shuddered out. “I-I—”
“I love you,” he said, nudging her inside and closing the door behind them since it was cold. He kept hold of her as he leaned back against the wooden panel. “I’ve never felt this way for a woman, but I also know it’s been a week. I can get a stubborn dog to take a pill. I can calculate the dosage of carprofen for an eighty-pound German Shepherd. I can start an IV on a pissed-off cat, but I can’t take away your fear.” He rested his forehead against hers. “God, I want to, baby. I want to make everything all right, heal that giant heart of yours, and ride off into the sunset.” He pressed his cheek to her temple, held her tight. “But this is real life, so all I can give you is time and my love and the tools for us to ascend that fucking mountain and make it over to the other side together.”
She shuddered, and he felt a hot tear leak out of the corner of her eye, drip down her jaw. “Together?”
Fingers in the silk of her hair, mouth next to her ear, bodies close. “Yeah, Red. Together.”
Silence.
Her throat working.
Another hot tear.
Then a halting chuckle. “Damn, baby,” she said. “It would be so much easier if you could just make all the bad stuff go away.” A breath. “I want to make it to the other side of that rainbow.”
He leaned back, stared into those pretty whiskey eyes. “I’ll pick up some armor. Maybe a white horse.”
She sniffed then smiled before rising on tiptoe to press a quick kiss to his lips. “Me, too.”
Give. Take.
Fuck, he loved this woman.
His alarm came far too soon, but Jaime couldn’t complain about waking up with Kate draped all over him.
The world’s best blanket, that was for sure.
A grumpy blanket, who groaned when his alarm blared. He quickly shut it off and slipped from the bed, tugging on the clothes that he’d worn the night before. They’d ended up crumpled on the floor after Kate had taken his hand