Did that mean he’d really left or was the reality of it that he’d been taken away? Because of my own stupidity? Wanting to play house so desperately that I’d put us both in danger?
Blame raced through my veins.
God. What had I done? And what had he suffered for me?
Shock rippled through the line. “What?”
I rubbed at my forehead. “That’s what he said.”
“Why?”
“I guess because we broke in here that night?” I whispered, almost a question. “I . . . I thought we were free and clear, but I think Jace took the fall for me.”
“Shit . . . are you kiddin’ me?”
“No.”
She laughed.
“Why in the world are you laughin’?”
“Because I’m getting the feeling that man is so much more than either of us ever gave him credit for.”
Thirty-One
Jace
God damn it.
What had I done?
Fucked it up in a way there was no chance I could reconcile, that was what.
But there’d been no stopping it. No stopping how I felt or what I wanted.
No stopping what I was going to take.
Keep.
Devotion pumped through my blood, right along with the sinking reality that there was so much I couldn’t change. So much that she still didn’t know that would ruin her if I stayed.
I’d barely been able to admit to her that I’d gone to prison, the reason I’d been sent there frozen on my tongue while she’d stood there in all her belief and innocence somehow thinking that it might have been her fault.
As if slipping inside this place would land me in prison for three years.
I was only supposed to be here to fix what I could. What would she think if she knew?
She would hate me, which was why I’d been pleading with her for forgiveness even though the girl didn’t have the first clue what I was asking her to forgive me for.
Would she?
Could she look past the greatest treason?
Fuck.
I didn’t know.
All I knew was there was no chance I could pack it up and walk away when all was said and done.
I toweled off.
The smell of her was still on my skin despite the shower I’d just taken.
Liked she’d been etched there.
Written on me.
Dropping the towel to the floor, I looked in the mirror where I wore her name on my hip like a scar.
A brand.
A reminder of who I was. Why I was. The sacrifice I’d made.
Bottom line? All of it had been my fault. Right from the very start. It hadn’t mattered that Joseph was responsible. The one who’d committed the act. I was the one who’d led him there.
Fed him all the bullshit that had made him into the man he’d become.
Then I’d turned my back when he’d needed me most.
I scrubbed both my palms over my face, cursing at myself to get it together.
I was stronger than this.
But that was the thing about Faith.
Having it made me weak.
And she was making me weaker. Making me believe all the bullshit she’d made me believe back when we’d been kids.
Look where that had gotten me.
Exhaling heavily, I forced myself into my clothes—jeans and a tee. The bedroom door creaked as I stepped out into the hall, my ear inclined toward her room.
Silence echoed back.
Realizing she was no longer on the second floor, I bounded downstairs, heading for the kitchen, when I caught the sight framed in the big window that overlooked the side of the house from the living room.
My chest tightened.
Faith was out there. In the rose garden. Her fingers brushing over the petals and her face lifted to the sky.
Like she was seeking any wisdom that might fall from above.
I stood there watching her.
The girl my dream.
Something that had become an impossibility when it was getting harder and harder to stop from wanting her to be my everything.
Considering I was the source of her torment, I should give her space.
Time.
Guess I’d never exactly been known for what I should do, because I was slipping out the front door, quietly crossing the porch, and moving that way.
I knew she felt me.
Could feel her energy rippling back.
Warmth and light and grace.
They hit me like stones.
I was a bastard.
Such a bastard because I couldn’t stop myself. Couldn’t stop myself from edging up behind that sweet, sweet body, from setting my hands on her slender waist, from pulling her back against me.
Against my aching body and my hammering heart and my dick that was already hard for her again.
One taste, and I needed more.
I nuzzled my nose in the flesh of her neck, my face lost in the soft fall of chocolate waves.
Vanilla and roses.
She released a sigh, and she sank back into me. Her hands came to settle over the top of mine where I held her tight across her belly.
My voice turned rough. “This . . . this is the picture I held of you for all these years. You standing right here, in these roses, whispering that you loved me. It was what got me through the days. Remembering the things you’d told me. Who I could be. Who you saw when you looked at me. I wanted to be that guy, Faith. God, I wanted to be him. I wanted to follow that light in the darkened sky.”
“You could have been.” There was pain in her voice.
“Will you let me be him now?” I murmured into her hair. A plea. Begging with this girl for that forgiveness.
“This is all happenin’ so fast.” Fear cracked through her murmured words.
“I’ll give you all the time you need.”
She snuggled a little deeper into my arms, hugging me tighter to herself. Relishing in the connection. “Why do you make that sound like you’re stayin’?”
“Because that’s what I intend. If you let me.”
“God, Jace, you’re ruining me.”
I let my hands sweep down her thighs. “I’ll ruin you in the best of ways.”
Deeper and deeper.
Couldn’t stop.
Didn’t want to.
I needed her to know how much I wanted her.
I half expected her to go rigid and push me away, especially when I’d just promised her time. But I figured with what had just gone down in her kitchen, I would take the chance.
God knew that was what Faith and I needed.
A chance.
Even if it was going to be a fighting one.
She released a little laugh, her amusement gliding into the humid, summer morning. “You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you, tough guy?”
A chuckle rippled from me, and I could feel it slide right through her, a tremble under my hands.
My lips moved against the delicate shell of her ear. “Oh, good girl, you have no idea what I’m dying to do to you. What I’ve been dreaming of. I’ve had plenty of years to think it through.”
Couldn’t help but put it out into the atmosphere.
My intentions.
Dragging her back to where we’d once been and all the places I wanted to go.
I’m going to take you. Fuck you and love you and make you scream. Drive you mad until you realize that you’re mine. That you’ve always been. That we were always supposed to be.
Those were the words I held back. With the rumble that thundered at my insides, I knew it was the truth.
A motherfucking promise.
I was going to make sure it was the truth.
The problem was, I had no idea how to broach the issue of Joseph.
How we were going to deal with that ghost.
With that loss.
Some piece inside me wanting to shatter with the idea of her still loving him.
God, I wanted to claw my eyes out, thinking of the two of them together. And somehow . . . somehow I still couldn’t even picture it.
Something shy worked its way into her posture, but when she peeked back up at me, her full lips were quirking up at the sides. “You did a pretty good job of it back in the kitchen.”
I brushed my fingers through her hair. “I was just getting started.”
That feeling filled up the air. Like it was breathed from the sky.
Pouring down from the place she’d just been looking.
“Is that what this is? A start?”
“Seems to me, we’re only picking up where we left off.”