I followed him down the hallway and passed my room to his office. Watching him from behind was surprisingly comforting. I was used to his backside, it was what I pictured when I talked to him, it was the side of him I was used to.
“Don’t mind the mess,” he apologized, unlocking the door and opening it.
The tenseness in my shoulders faded. His office was similar to mine. Papers strewn on his desk mixed with pens and sticky notes. A desktop with post-its around it with a screensaver of Shepley sprawled across his lap. The walls had canvas prints of his book covers, and a sliding door to his house-length porch let in the impending sunset.
If I weren’t so terrified from the threatening text from Martin, I’d be more in awe of the scenery.
He motioned for me to sit in his worn down office chair. “Sit.”
Pushing aside my timidness, I took the few strides to his seat. While I crossed the room, he shook the mouse and pulled up a word document.
“Type what’s going on in your head right now. It doesn’t matter how jumbled it feels, just push it from your brain and into your fingertips. Maybe start with where your mind was before you saw his text message.”
I lifted a brow at him, keeping my arms wrapped around myself.
He licked his lips. “Okay, just start with when you saw the text.”
“I don’t typically write like this. I only write when I’m making a story.”
“Think of it as a journal entry. I always do this when I have an overpowering emotion that I’m losing control over. It helps me to clear my mind, gain a grip on life again.”
Staring at the keyboard, I willed my hands to begin typing.
“I’ll sit on the porch. I’m sure my looking over your shoulder isn’t going to help any.”
I offered him a slight smile, but frowned when the door caught my eye. Jake followed my gaze. “I’ll close it and lock it. You’ll be safe, I promise.”
I watched him click the door closed, then head to the sliding door, opening it and finding a seat on the lounge chair in my view. He gave me a wink once he was settled, pulling out his phone and swiping through it.
Once he was deep into his phone, I gave his idea a shot.
I treated it as if I were telling a story, putting myself in the main character’s position, describing how I reacted in a monologue. It wasn’t very long, but powerful, and shockingly, my nerves were much calmer. It was if I had faced my fear by retelling the story with my own twist.
Jake snuck back inside, hovering behind me just as I finished.
“So, did it help?“
“Actually, I’m feeling less anxious,” I said truthfully.
Jake gently covered my shoulders with his hands, and I closed my eyes, finding his friendly touch soothing. He began to massage my tense muscles, working his thumbs into the back of my neck. “Told you it would help.”
He applied pressure down my neck and spine, pushing hard between my shoulder blades. I was full of tension, and his strong hands were helping to release the stress. Tilting my head, Jake ran one hand along the side of it, rubbing out the knots and finding the back of my scalp.
“You seem more relaxed, Love,” he whispered, his hands continuing their path along my upper body.
I leaned forward, resting my arms on the desk. Jake’s hands went lower down my spine. “If only my mind would stop running in a thousand directions.”
He laughed under his breath. “You’d think you’d be used to that by now, being a writer and all.”
My forehead found the back of my hand. Releasing a deep breath, I muffled, “If only the voices in my head were from made up characters and not my crazy ex-husband.”
Jake worked his palm up my spine, then circled his fingers around my ribs. I should have giggled, but he pressed firm enough for it to feel amazing instead of ticklish. “We’ll get those voices to change into bestselling character thoughts in no time.”
I found solitude in his working hands and his murmured voice. The way he moved smoothly and spoke in a hushed manner was comforting. More of this special treatment from him, and my body would turn into mush.
Squeezing my shoulders, he whispered. “Come out to the back porch with me.”
I lazily lifted my head and he removed his hands. Attempting to hold in my pout and missing the warmth of his hands, I stood and followed him.
Shepley was sitting on the railing, his tail floating back and forth. The sun had set while I was glued to the computer screen, but the mountain pass was glowing against the moonlight. Slight ripples coasted along the lake from the breeze, the moon's reflection clear as day on the dark water.
“It’s amazing how big it is,” Jake sighed, nodding to the moon and finding himself standing by Shepley. The cat nudged his shoulder with its forehead, a hint of wanting to be petted. Jake smiled at the cat, rubbing its ears. My feet took me to the other side of the cat, scratching his back.
“It is. Crazy to think I see the same moon on the other side of the world.”
Jake’s hand skimmed down Shepley’s fur to cover mine. “You’re still worried.”
I met his gentle eyes. His face was still so new to me. “I don’t think I’ll ever not be afraid.”
He pulled my hand from the cat and brought me to his side, grasping my bicep and holding me against him. I found myself curling into him, nuzzling his shoulder and wrapping my arms around his waist.
How did I fit into him so easily? Why wasn’t I hesitant to touch him? We were comfortable with each other on the phone, but wouldn’t it take time to build a physical relationship in person? Hell, we’d been in each other’s company for only a few hours. It took me months to kiss Martin, and even longer to get into bed with him.
“What did he do to you?” He whispered against my temple, giving me a tight squeeze with both his hands.
A tremor ran throughout my body as the vivid image of Martin smacking me across the face then shoving me down the stairs. My eyelids clamped closed, tears threatening to spill. I had shoved the memory away in my brain, never wanting to relive it again.
One simple text message brought it all back to life.
I sniffled into his shirt, desperately pushing back the fountain of water works.
Jake turned into me, hugging me tightly to his chest. His head rested against mine, both his hands cradling me protectively.
“There’s more, isn’t there?” He whispered into the calm night. “He hurt you, didn’t he? More than breaking your heart by keeping you in a loveless marriage?”
I nodded in between his pecs, palming his back with my shaking hands.
He cupped the nape of my neck, running his nose along my cheek. “Oh, Cora, why didn’t you tell me what was really happening?”
“It shocked me,” I whimpered into his chest. “I didn’t think what he did was wrong at first.”
His hand tightened on my scalp. “Laying a hand on a woman, especially one you love, is inexcusable.”
Unlatching my hands from around his waist, I squirmed so he would loosen his grip around me enough so I could rub my eyes. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
Jake’s eyebrows scrunched together. “There’s always somewhere to go.”
I shook my head. “I haven’t spoken to my parents since I chose Martin over them. It’s been nearly seven years since we’ve talked.”
Jake’s hand stroked my jaw. “You really don’t have any other family? Friends?”
I sniffed. “Only Martin’s family.”
“How long was he abusive?”
Taking a deep breath, I shrugged. “A few years? It wasn’t bad until the last month. It was little things at first, holding my arms too tightly, grabbing my chin and screaming in my face. He’d get aggressive in the bedroom, but would blame it on ‘being in the moment’ and said he didn’t realize he was hurting me.”
Jake studied me, his eyes filled with compassion. “What made him mad?”
I swallowed, darting my eyes to his chest. “Anything, really. He was a ticking time bomb, the rope getting shorter with each disappointment he found in me.”
Jake trailed two gentle fingers across my cheek. “Nothing could be disappointing about you, Love.”
My eyelids fluttered open, finding his gaze again. “I know that now. I was in a low place with my self-confidence and self-worth, but I’m much better now. I knew I was worth saving and chose to end the relationship. I only wish I would have figured it out sooner.”
The soft pads of Jake’s fingers traced along my cheek and to my forehead, smoothing over a small scar. It must have glowed in the moonlight.
I watched him swallow. “Was this from him?”
I nodded, squeezing my eyes shut. “He was mad I bought the wrong type of pickles and threw the glass jar at me. Thankfully he missed, but hit the doorframe. Glass went everywhere, including my forehead.” I looked to the inside of my forearm where a few other shards left their mark. “I tried to block it, but I couldn’t move my arm in time to shield all of my face.”
Jake followed my gaze, moving his hand from my back to trace the faint lines.
He shook his head, his jaw tightening with anger. “He’ll never hurt you again.”
I offered him a smile, grateful for his protectiveness, but deep down, I knew he wouldn’t be able to protect me from Martin. My ex-husband had too many resources, and most likely he was already on his way here to get me.
I was being irresponsible by staying with Jake. The moment that text came through, I should have found my way back to the States to file a restraining order, but it felt good being in Jake’s arms.
He tenderly kissed the scar on my forehead, letting his lips linger on my skin. I sighed into the cool night air, leaning into his touch. A hint of relief washed over me from revealing some of the ugly between Martin and me.
He removed his lips, holding my face in his hands so he could look at me. “I was out of line kissing you in there,” he murmured.
I stared at his mouth, licking my own lips. “No, you most definitely weren’t.”
He cocked his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “No?”
I slowly shook my head. “Pretty sure that was the most alive I’ve felt in a long time.”
Now his eyes were on my gaped mouth. “Would it be out of line to do it again?”
I smiled, lifting on my tiptoes and creeping my arms to the back of his neck, gently plucking his lips. “Since when are you so hesitant?” I flirted, planting another quick kiss against his mouth.
He smirked and moved into the kiss, hugging me to his chest.
I opened my mouth, pressing my tongue along the seam of his lips. He opened up in an instant, goading my tongue to dance with his. As our breaths mingled and hands explored, any terrifying thought of Martin I had, vanished. All I could think about was Jake and how his hands roamed my body.
He slipped them underneath my tank top, the callouses on his hands scratching my skin while they traveled along the length of my back. The contact was delicious, pushing my hormones into overdrive. My hands clawed at the back of his shirt, tugging it over his head. His lips left mine long enough to strip the fabric from his body, tossing it to the ground, then yanking me against him within a nanosecond.
I moaned into his mouth, running my hands along his hot skin. The contours of his back were perfect. They tensed and flexed underneath my fingertips, just as I imagined they would. I knew his back and the narrowing of his hips by eye, and now I was thrilled to get my hands on every inch of him.
Taking me by surprise, he grasped my thighs, lifting me and wrapping my legs around his hips, all while exploring the depths of my mouth. He walked us from the deck and into his office with ease, strolling passed the heap of papers and books stacked amongst other clutter.
The hallway was dark where he carried me, finding the guest room and setting me on my feet. His kisses slowed, turning more tender and less frenzied. Our foreheads met, and the only sound in the room was our heavy breathing.
“I’ll stop if you want me to,” he said in a deep timbre. “I’ll leave this room and close your door behind me if for even a second you feel uneasy.”
My hands found his chest, pressing against the rock hard muscle of his pecs. “I’m not afraid of you, Jake.”
His hands were at his sides. “I’m glad, but I know you’ve got wounds, and I don’t want to re-open them.”
I stroked his skin, beyond thankful for his empathy. He didn’t know how deep my wounds were, and if I told him, the events of tonight surely would take a different turn, and I didn’t want that. I needed to be close to him, feel his passion and strength. Having Jake, the only man who I confided in and had trusted with my thoughts, enveloping and surrounding me, would cure the ache in my heart that I had been avoiding.
“I think you’ll do the opposite,” I whispered, grasping the hem of my tank top and slowly lifting it over my head. “You’re my best friend.”
He took in a sharp inhale. “You’re mine too, Love. You’ve always been.”
His hands left his sides and found my waist, running along my bare skin once again. I arched my back as he traveled up my spine, my head lolled to the side where he nuzzled his chin into the crook of my neck, planting opened mouth kisses.
It didn’t take long for his fingers to find the clasp of my bra, fumbling until it broke free. His mouth found mine as the straps fell from my shoulders and to the floor, smiling and muttering against it. “It’s been a while.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Same here, I was never in the mood…”
I froze when my sentence trailed into the dark room, swallowing a lump that was forming in my throat. Shutting my eyes, the pain of the past was slowly invading my mind. I shook, recalling Martin pinning me on the bed.
Jake squeezed me tighter. “Did he…?” His voice faded, holding my now stiff body to his chest. “You don’t have to tell me,” he whispered.
I shivered in his arms, a single tear trailing down my cheek. I had done so well keeping in my fears and masking them, but it was impossible with Jake right in front of me. I couldn’t hide behind a screen anymore. He was peeling back my layers at a rapid rate now, and every little imperfection and embarrassing reality was going to come tumbling out of my mouth to a man who I had just met face to face.
He kept a hand on my back. My lip quivered as I looked into his face, but his features were only slightly visible, the moonlight defining the shadows. He covered my mouth with a finger to hush me, then lead me to the bed, throwing the covers back, urging me to crawl under the sheets.
“Don’t, don’t leave,” I stuttered, frightened I’d scare him away because I let my past momentarily control me.
“Wasn’t planning on it,” he whispered, following me into bed and holding his arms out. It was an invitation for me to snuggle against him, and I didn’t hesitate. I curled into him, setting my hand on his chest. A dusting of hair tickled my fingertips.
His arm fit perfectly around my shoulder, his chin resting on my forehead once he was settled and comfortable. The skin on skin of our naked chests were intimate, a closeness that helped ease my tension.
“Tell me something that makes you happy,” I murmured through the dry patches in my mouth.
“Makes me happy?” He repeated, his hand finding my ponytail, twirling it between his fingers. “I don’t know, a lot of things.”
“Like?”
I could feel his jaw ticking against my forehead while he thought. “Well, mountain biking. I love feeling the breeze against my face. The ever changing terrain and scenery on an unbeaten path is a rush. The adrenaline is better than any drug.”
I drew circles on his chest while he talked. “What else?”
“Writing, but that’s obvious,” he chuckled against my temple.
“That used to make me happy,” I sighed. “If only I could find my groove again.”
“Stick with me and you will. Don’t think about your publisher, write for you, Cora.” His hand left my hair and traced the contours of my back. It was relaxing, and I found my eyes fluttering closed and my breath steadying.
“You know what really makes me happy?” He asked, his lips brushing against my skin with each delicate word.
I was fighting consciousness, drifting into slumber safely in his arms. “Hmm?”
Covering my hand that had stilled on his chest, he murmured, “When your name pops on my phone.”
Sighing, I snuggled into him, wrapping my arm tighter around him and hitching my leg with his. “You make me happy, too, Jake.”
I could feel his grin against my forehead, the warm, airy breeze of his exhale bringing comfort as it tickled my skin.