Jack

Having Ember Rose in my arms is like winning the fucking lottery. It’s like being named King of Everything. It’s like…

I can’t help a grin. My mind is a lovesick teenager.

I’m the boy who left ten years ago.

In adult terms, having her again is better than graduating with honors from the hardest law school in the country. It’s better than winning the toughest case of my career. It’s better than anything I’ve done since I left this place.

She has matured since I knew her last, but she’s still so much the same. She’s a woman now, a mother, and she moves with a confident grace she didn’t have as a teen.

Still, holding her now, looking down into her dark eyes flecked with gold, I see the girl who stole my heart years ago. She’s everything I always wanted. Her fingers trace along the tops of my shoulders, and I lean down to kiss her again, inhaling deeply of lavender and rose. We’re lying, our bodies pressed together in her bed, and…

Fuck me, I’m suffocating.

“How do you sleep in this place?” Lines of sweat follow her fingertips down my back. “It’s hot as hell.”

She starts to laugh. “I don’t usually have a human radiator generating heat in the bed with me.”

“We can’t sleep here.” Sitting up, I pull her with me. Her dark hair falls around her shoulders, and for a moment, I forget my name.

She’s sitting here naked, her small breasts round and full, her dark nipples peaked and straining. Her narrow waist leads down to her curved hips and bare legs with only the sheet tossed across her lap.

“Jesus, Ember,” I whisper awestruck. “You’re so beautiful.”

Dark brown eyes lift to mine, and they’re shining with emotion. I can’t help cupping her cheek, sliding my thumb over her lips, moving my hand down her slim neck to her chest, her breast. I cup it, a perfect handful, rolling her nipple between my fingers. She inhales audibly, and my dick stirs. I want to be inside her again.

Her hand covers mine, fingers spreading before sliding up my arm. “You’re the same boy who stole my breath the first time I saw you.”

“Am I the same?” I grin. “I can think of a few differences.”

White teeth appear when she smiles, and she traces her fingers along the line of my hair. “Your hair is shorter.” Her bottom lip goes between her teeth. “You’re more polished. You’re a man now.”

My stomach is tight, my whole body tense with lust. I’m a man who sees everything he wants in the world and who’s ready to claim it.

“Come on,” I say, clearing the thickness from my throat. “If we stay here much longer, I’ll have to fuck you again.”

That gets me a real laugh. “You’re a little dirtier than you used to be.”

Standing beside the bed, I pull her straight up against me, her soft curves melting against my hardness. “I’m a lot dirtier than I used to be.”

I feel her body shiver, and her eyes darken. That’s my Ember Rose, the girl who told me I would teach her to kiss. The girl who told me to teach her everything. The girl who eagerly went wherever I wanted to take her…

Remembering those days, the things we did, her innocence makes her more mine than any vows we might have made.

Stepping to the side, I hold her hand. “Get dressed. I’m taking you to my place.”

I watch as she goes to an old armoire. Her ass is round and soft like a peach, and shit if I’m going to be able to get my dick in my pants if she keeps prancing around here naked. She takes out a filmy dress and drops it over her head. When she turns around, she does a little shrug.

“Ready?”

Fuck me. Knowing she’s completely bare underneath is even sexier than her walking around this hotbox naked.

“I have an idea.” My jeans are on, and I’ve pulled the shirt over my head again.

Taking her hand, I lead her down the stairs and out to my truck. We’re moving fast and once inside, she scoots across the bench, leaning her head on my shoulder.

My insides are buzzing with joy, comfort, completion. Instinctively, I wrap my arm around her as I turn the wheel and take us up the street, through the quiet neighborhoods and out of town.

“Where are we going?” she asks, her hand tracing lines along the top of my thigh, an action that fuels my desire.

“I thought we could go to our place.” I’m thinking of washing her in the ocean, making love to her, holding her bare body against mine as the waves roll around us.

Her cheek moves, and she smiles against my shoulder. It isn’t long before we’re there. I pull off the road, parking in the brush, behind a tree and two small bushes like I always did.

She’s out the door before I’ve killed the engine, and I think of a night not so long ago near a lake with a different girl. I didn’t give a shit about following that girl.

Tonight, nothing in this world could keep me away.

Tonight, I’m chasing the girl of my dreams to the place I can never forget.

Her dress is on the dry sand, and her moonlit body moves slowly into the water. For a moment, all I can do is watch as the water rises gradually to her knees, her waist. Her dark hair falls in thick ripples down her back, meeting the water and spreading out around her the deeper she goes.

The moonlight tips the dark water with silver, and the stars are points of light in the midnight-blue sky above. She’s magical, a creature of the sea, an innocent seductress, and I’m bewitched by her beauty.

I quickly shed my jeans and tee and follow her, pushing through the surf, using my hands to help me move faster until I capture her in my arms.

“Hmm,” she turns to face me. She wraps her arms over my shoulders, pressing her breasts against my chest, and I sigh deeply. “It’s been so long since I’ve come here with anyone besides Coco.”

“You bring your daughter here?” I try to imagine the two of them, so similar in this beautiful place. I’ve only seen her daughter twice, but already she feels as much a part of us as anything.

“It’s the best place to get away from the crowds, to have some peace and quiet.”

Leaning down, I kiss the top of her arm, loving the feel of our skin against skin, warm in the cool water. We came here so many times that summer, stealing away in the dead of night. I remember standing at the head of the path, straining my eyes in the darkness for her to appear on that damn bike.

“You would never ride in the car with me,” I muse, sliding my hand down to cup her ass.

Her legs lift, wrapping around my waist and I walk us out further into the waves.

“I was so afraid of us getting caught together,” she says against my neck. “My mother could make people disappear. I was afraid she would make you disappear.”

“No one is making me disappear.” I turn and kiss her lips.

She gasps slightly as my hand moves lower, dipping into her core, testing her wetness. Her voice grows silky, like honey. “But you did…”

Two fingers inside, she moans, and I pull at her lips. “Not anymore. I’m never letting you go, Ember Rose.”

Happiness flickers across her face, but her mouth forms a little O. She’s focused, needing me. Leaning into her, I seal my lips to hers, replacing my fingers with my dick. I hold her thighs and pull her to me, letting the motion of the waves assist in bringing her flush against my pelvis.

A moan is consumed into my mouth. Her muscles flex, her thighs tightening over me as she rocks. It’s the closest thing to heaven on Earth, and it doesn’t take long before we’re soaring.

My release comes quickly, blanking my mind. I hear her moans of pleasure. Her core clenches rhythmically as she comes undone, and I wrap my arms tighter around her, holding us together in this reunion.

The water swirls around us. I hold her, and we drift together. I’m lazy and satisfied and already thinking about the future. I know what I want, and I’m ready to make it happen.

“Tell me about your daughter,” I say, kissing her ear. “How old is she?”

Her head lifts, and her eyes are round. “I had her four years ago.”

“What’s the status of her…” I try to think of a delicate way to put it. “Father?”

Ember’s eyes cloud, and something like worry fills her expression.

Reaching up, I slide a piece of hair behind her ear. “What’s wrong?”

“Does it bother you?” She’s studying my face, watching me closely.

“What?” A little wave crashes between us, sending salt into my mouth. I spit it out.

Her eyes flicker away, but I’m not having any more hiding. I give her a little shake. “What are you afraid of?”

“My mother said men don’t like other men’s children.”

Heat tightens in my chest. It’s becoming a regular occurrence whenever Marjorie Warren comes up. I’m mentally piecing together what happened after I left… The only unanswered question is why.

“Come on,” I say, leading us out of the water. We walk up the shore to our clothes, the light breeze cooling our heated skin, and I think about my words. “Your daughter is as beautiful as you. I’d like to get to know her.” Ember looks up at me, and I can tell she’s not convinced. “I expect the two of you are a package deal.”

She reaches down and quickly drops the sundress over her head. “I won’t leave Coco behind.” I don’t miss the edge in her voice as she says it, almost like a challenge.

Jerking my jeans over my hips, I catch her around the waist as she tries to pass, pulling her to me. “I would never ask you to.” Leaning forward, I kiss the corner of her mouth. “I’d like her to come with you. Is that possible?”

Her shoulders drop, and she relaxes in my arms. “It should be.”

Releasing her, I scoop up my tee, shaking the sand out of it before dropping it over my head. “Tell me about her. Were you…” Unexpected jealousy hits me as I say the words. “Is her father someone you cared about?”

We reach the truck, and I help her inside before jogging around to climb in the driver’s side. She tells me the story as we drive back to the cottage. Her voice is quiet, cautious, and I hang on every word.

“I’m embarrassed to say it was a drunk hookup, but it’s the truth.” She looks down at her hands, twisting in her lap. I want to reach out and cover them with mine. “I don’t know what I’ll tell her when she’s older… about her dad.”

“Wait to cross that bridge. If she knows how much you love her, she won’t hold it against you.”

She glances up at me, and her lips press into a sad little smile. “I only went out with one guy after you left…”

“Mason Green,” I say, remembering the picture my father showed me.

The photo that killed all my dreams and changed the direction of my life.

“My mother wanted me to try. She said it wasn’t good for me to pine away after a boy who wasn’t coming back.”

My fists tighten on the steering wheel, but I don’t say the words in my head. “What made you believe her?”

She does a little shrug. “I guess I already feared it was true when you left. I knew I was only a kid. You were a man, smart and educated. It was easy for me to believe you wouldn’t come back.”

I feel as if I’ve been punched in the chest. “Was it?” Looking at her, I can’t keep the frown off my face. “I thought you knew how I felt.”

She chews her lip, and I can tell she’s thinking something she’s afraid to say. We drive through the neighborhoods of Oceanside Village in silence. We continue past her storefront, making the left turn headed north into the woods where my mother’s cottage is located.

“We’ll be more comfortable sleeping here,” I say, holding the door for her as she slips out of the cab.

She’s right in front of me, her head only reaching the center of my chest, and I cup her cheek. The shadows are thicker here, the moonlight more ambient. I press my lips gently to hers, and I feel the tension leave her body. When I pull away again, our eyes meet, and we’re back.

I take her hand and continue to the house. “So you didn’t date,” I say, hoping to continue the story.

“After we graduated, Mason left to go to the mission field. I didn’t want to go to college, but I wasn’t sure what else I’d do.”

I unlock the door, and we step inside. She gasps, and I smile. “I know, right?”

“It doesn’t look anything like it used to.” Her voice is a whisper as she walks carefully around the living room, touching the back of the couch, the pillows. “It was only a shack when we came here.”

“Dad had it completely redone.”

She nods. “I remember when it was happening. I… I never could bring myself to come back. Not after…”

“I know.” I do know. We shared several firsts here. I painted her here. We can revisit those times later. “So you went to culinary school?”

That gets me a laugh, musical and soft. “No.” She shakes her head. “I never went to culinary school. I did hair. I sold makeup, I sold leggings, I was a teller at the bank for about five minutes…”

“Jesus, you’ve done everything in Oceanside!” I laugh because my insides are warm with love.

“Not true,” she laughs, leaning into me for a quick kiss. “I never painted houses. I never worked at the hardware store, and I never made poboys.”

“What got you interested in cakes?” I push a lock of damp hair behind her ear. “How did that start?”

“When Coco had her first birthday, I’d planned this whole Little Mermaid theme.” She sits on her knees on the couch, and I walk around to sit in front of her. “I wanted a cake with blue raspberry and strawberries and cookies for the clam shells…”

“What happened?” Her energy telling this story pulls me in.

“Everybody looked at me like I was crazy. If it wasn’t a basic round, two tiered sponge, nobody knew how to do it.”

She’s already talking over my head, but I don’t want her to stop. “So?”

“So I found a cake baking book and I did my research and I made it myself.” She sits back, a smug look on her face.

“And it was good,” I finish for her.

She leans forward as if letting me in on a secret. “It was really good.” Her nose wrinkles, and she’s fucking adorable. “My aunt Agnes—”

“The lady who owned the five and dime?”

“Yes!”

“She always gave me free candy.”

A sly smile curls Ember’s lips. “Cinnamon.”

I can’t resist. I lean forward and kiss her. “Tell me more about the cakes.” We’re catching up so fast, our conversations flying from one memory to the next seamlessly.

“Aunt Agnes believed in me from the start. She said I had a natural gift for baking. I started baking cakes for birthday parties, which led to special occasions, and eventually weddings. It started as a hobby until I read a magazine article about Peggy Porschen…”

I frown and shake my head, and she explains. “Peggy Porschen owns this super-famous bake shop in London. It’s gorgeous. It has flowers everywhere and chandeliers and the whole front entrance is pink with a huge rose garland above the door…”

“I understand your interior design choices now,” I tease, but she’s serious.

“It’s everything I aspire to be. I’m going to work my ass off, own my own shop, and take care of Coco and me… And maybe I can bring some business back to Oceanside.”

Sliding my finger along the line of her cheek, I don’t say aloud that I plan to be the one taking care of her and Coco. I love her dream, and she can bake as much as she wants. But now that I have her in my arms again, no one is taking her away from me—past or present. Ember Rose is mine from now on.

A shadow crosses her face, and my chest tightens. “What’s wrong?”

“My mother says it’s a ridiculous pursuit, especially as a career path. She doesn’t believe anyone will pay enough for cake to support a family.”

“I don’t like to agree with your mother, but in this part of the country, where everyone bakes…”

She nods, grasping my forearm. “I know, but Aunt Agnes was looking ahead to the future, to where we are now. Things have changed so much so fast!”

“You’re right.” I nod, lacing our fingers. “In the city, a cake shop like yours could easily support your little family with plenty left over. Here, you might have to get more creative with your business plan.”

“Tabby wants to set up a website for online orders, and as time passes, I’m getting more orders for things like birthday cakes, special occasion cakes… Women our age don’t bake as much. It’s becoming a specialized thing.”

“It sounds like a great idea, and you’re a natural. Right?”

Her chin drops, and she looks up at me through her lashes. “You’ve never had one of my cakes.”

Leaning forward, I kiss her nose. “I’ve tasted other things of yours, and they’re very good.”

“Jackson!” She slaps my arm, which makes me laugh. “I don’t make coochie cakes…” She pauses, and I see her thinking. “Only penis cakes.”

“What?”

She laughs loudly at my surprise. “Betty Pepper orders penis cakes!”

My eyes go round, and I stand, pulling her to her feet. “Are you telling me you’re a dirty Betty Crocker?”

She snorts loudly, and it makes me laugh. Scooping her off her feet, I throw her over my shoulder and start for the bedroom. “I’ll give you penis cake…”

“Jackson! Put me down,” she laughs, but I head down the hall to the bedroom. As we pass the smaller room I’ve been using for a studio, she starts wiggling out of my grasp. “Stop. Wait!”

I set her on her feet, and stand beside her as she looks into the room. The sketchpad is where I left it propped on the easel. Light from the doorway falls directly over the charcoal drawing I did of her, and the effect is dramatic.

Every curve and shadow seems more pronounced, and she walks slowly toward the image of her. It’s a replica of my painting. Her legs are strategically crossed to cover her private parts, but from the waist up, she’s exposed.

Her dark hair flows in ripples around her shoulders, and her beautiful breasts are on full display. I took my time on them, sliding my fingertips under the curves, over the nipples…

She reaches out and holds her hand above the lines and shades of her face. “When did you do this?” Wonder is in her voice, and my stomach tightens.

“Do you like it?”

Her chin lifts and she looks up at me. “It’s so good. It’s… like the other one.”

Stepping behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist, leaning down so my chin is on her shoulder. She places one arm over mine.

“I couldn’t get you out of my head any other way. I had to draw you.”

“You still paint?”

We’re both speaking as if we’re in church, hushed and reverent. We’re in the presence of my dreams, both of them married together on paper in front of us.

“I haven’t painted in a long time. About ten years.”

“But you sketch?” She steps out of my arms, turning to face me and hold both my hands in hers.

“This is the first sketch I’ve done in about as long.”

Small lines crease her brow. “Why did you stop?”

Now it’s my turn to look away. “I lost my inspiration when I lost you.”

“And now you’ve found it again?” It’s a quiet question, a question so full of meaning. It’s the question of what will happen next.

“That depends…”

Mentally, I’ve already made a place for her and her daughter here. I have unfinished business, we have truths to sort out, but the outcome doesn’t change. Ember belongs with me.

Lifting her fingers to my lips, I kiss the top of her hand. “I’d like to paint you again now, with all of your changes.”

Her nose wrinkles. “Ten years older?”

Lowering her hand, I reach out and slide my finger under the strap of her dress. It drops down her arm, exposing her breast. My lips heat, and I lift my hand to touch her. Her breath catches in a soft gasp as I cup the weight, sliding my thumb over the tightening nipple.

“They’re larger,” I say in the same quiet voice.

I lift my other hand to do the same, lower the strap, expose her breast. Only this time the entire dress drops to the floor. The blood rushes below my waist, and my cock rises.

My eyes are fixed on her body, her beautiful curves in my hands. Her hips are more rounded. “You were only a girl when I painted you last time. Now you’re a woman.”

When I look up, I see her eyes are dark. Her lips are parted, then the bottom one is clutched below the tips of her white teeth. “I want you inside me.”

Fuck. My hand drops between her legs, and she moans softly as I touch her.

“You’re so wet.”

“Please…” she hisses.

I don’t have to be asked twice.

I quickly shove my jeans to the floor, allowing my cock to spring free. She grasps it, pulling gently, sliding her thumb over the damp tip, blowing my mind. I can’t wait to carry her across the hall to my bed. I grasp her hips, lifting her off her feet, and push her back against the nearest wall.

“Oh, God!” she gasps as I lower her body, sinking my throbbing dick deep into her clenching heat.

We’re instinctual and hungry. My hips thrust up as her thighs push against my pelvis. Her breasts bounce, and she moans, digging her fingers into my shoulders. I can’t hold out any longer as the fierce orgasm spirals up my thighs, tightening my pelvis, and shooting out of me.

“Ember,” I groan against her neck, pulsing deep.

In that moment, all uncertainty is gone. This is my future—us, here, together. It’s the only thing I want.