Take Me To Bed: Bedtime Quickies Collection

“As long as Doreen or the rest of the Fuck Up Brigade aren’t there, I’m sure he’s happy,” I answer with a chuckle.

Jori lets out a laugh as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

I cross my arms loosely over my chest as I smile up at him and he takes my face in his hands, planting the gentlest kiss in the middle of my forehead.

He’s taken to making a habit out of that once I told him that I read an article online that said kisses on the forehead affect the soul. I don’t know if he believed me or wanted me to feel even more loved than he already makes me feel, but at least once a day, he kisses my soul as gently as he can.

That’s the thing about Jori Davidson.

He always wants to make sure that I’m alright, even when he isn’t.

2

I yawn as he stretches his leg out across my lap.

We’ve moved from the center of the living room to the corner. He made sure that I sat with my back to the damn cabinet that houses Hoyt’s remains because he wants me in a good mood.

I can tell he has something up his sleeve.

The way he keeps stealing glances at me, the way he blushes when I return his glance pointedly—something about the way he’s keeping his hands firmly clasped behind his neck while we watch The Texas Chainsaw Massacre for the millionth time.

Yeah; Jori definitely has something he’s hiding from me, but I won’t pry it out of him. He’s never one to keep secrets from me, if he can help it anyway, and I know he’ll crack sooner rather than later.

No reason to poke the dragon’s nest, I reason to myself as I run a hand down his leg letting it rest on his ankle.

Jori’s always been something of a hard ass and he’s made damn sure that the interior matches the exterior. He’s got a number of colorful and large tattoos all over his body, but my favorite is the subtle Red tattoo he has just below his elbow. I’m pretty sure I cried the day he showed me and it made him so uncomfortable.

Not because of how I reacted, because those were tears of joy, but because he made me cry. And Jori always promised me two things; that as long as we were together, he’d never make me cry or raise his voice to me.

He does his best to keep his promises, like I do mine, and we’re doing okay.

Even after the bombshell that he let slip.

Something like that should have caused a sonic blast big enough to tear us apart, but it brought us closer together.

Ever since then, he’s gone back to being the same sarcastic son of a bitch I fell in love with a long time ago. The same one that took me on a trip to Canada, bought me a stuffy that I promised him I’d treasure, gave me my first kiss, and saved me from all of the bad people in my life.

Except for Hoyt.

He tried, but Hoyt wouldn’t let him.

I know that still bothers him because he wakes up som

etimes sweating and shaking. It’s when he asks me if I’m sure I still love him, and I tell him that I do because it’s the truth.

Hoyt’s death affected me more than it did him because for the short while that I was allowed time with my father, I lived with him and the hell beast. Hoyt didn’t know about how Doreen treated me at first, but Jori did. He was the one that would come to my window every night he could and sneak me out. We’d sleep in the tree house behind Millie’s house until morning when he’d sneak me back home and go back to deal with a hell beast of his own.

And he never complained.

Not to me, anyway.

Not as much as he should have at least.

When he lets out his signature laugh, I startle and grin at him.

Nothing in this world makes me happier than seeing him the way he is now.

Safe.