When We Touch

“André’s wife had it all in boxes. It was left over from their daughter’s room when she was a little girl.”

“I’ll have to thank him.” Stepping forward, I catch the front of his shirt and kiss him softly. “And once the princess is asleep, I’ll give you a special thank you.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Coco, your seahorses need to sleep now!”

Laughter bursts through my lips.

* * *

My little girl is settled and sleeping in her underwater kingdom—complete with a nightlight that projects fish swimming around her walls. Once again, Jackson has disappeared on another mysterious errand, and I’ve run a hot bath in the large, claw-footed tub in the master bedroom.

Leaning back, I close my eyes as the relaxing scent of lavender bath salts drifts higher on pillows of steam. My emotions have been on a rollercoaster the past two days, from happiness to anger to surprise and now here, in this house, with Jackson saying he loves me and treating my daughter like a princess.

It’s all happening so fast, but the happiness ringing deep in my soul tells me it’s right. It’s everything we’ve always wanted.

When we were teenagers, this cottage had been one of our many hiding places, one of the places we ran to be together. It’s where he painted me the first time.

Now it’s completely new, but still as beautiful.

Jackson calls it our home.

Home…

It’s a word I haven’t associated with anything in so long, it sounds foreign. Yet when spoken here, it feels right to me. I know I can trust him. I always have.

I don’t even realize I’m asleep until warm lips press against my temple to wake me. My eyes blink open to meet ocean blue ones, and I rise up to kiss him. I hold his face as his hand slips into the water, cupping my breast, sliding his thumb over my tightening nipple.

“I want you,” I whisper.

With precision speed, the door is locked, his clothes are quickly discarded, and he lowers into the warm water behind me, pulling my slippery body against his chest. I turn to face him, so our lips can meet, and his hands are on my waist, sliding down to my ass.

“You love me?” I say softly, kissing him again.

“I’ve always loved you, Ember Rose.” His deep voice vibrates against my skin, making me smile.

“I love you,” I say, and my words change into a moan as he slips inside, stretching and filling me.

Our mouths collide and we move together, rocking, chasing that irresistible bliss. He’s holding me, moving me, and I grip his shoulders, molding my mouth to his, getting lost in the warmth of his kisses, the feel of his tongue, the heat of his body against mine.

Our flavors and textures are lavender and cedar. Hard and soft colliding and rising, growing thicker and stronger, deeper and more insistent. My mind takes flight as his mouth moves to my ear, and he whispers words of longing and desire as I come apart, clenching and pulling him deeper into me, feeling him come apart with pulses and heartbeats and groans.

Sparkling light is behind my eyes, and our lips unite again and again. It’s lush and decadent and sprinkled with I love yous—a healing agent. Three words we’ve never had the chance to say enough, now filling the cracks, mending the old wounds, binding us together.

As my senses come down and my brain finds its way through the haze, I blink into his eyes. His dark hair is damp and lovely, his lips curve into a smile, and mine echo the movement.

He reaches up and moves a lock of hair away from my face. “I want you and Coco to be happy here. I want you to think of this as your place, as your home.”

“Is it your place now?” The thought had only briefly crossed my mind earlier. “I thought it belonged to your father.”

“It actually belonged to my mother,” he says with another kiss. “He and I discussed it when I came back and again today at lunch. The cottage became mine when she died, but he didn’t think I’d ever come back here.”

“No one did,” I say quietly.

“Not even me.” His voice changes from gentle to serious, and despite our renewed bond, a touch of anxiety trickles through my chest.

He moves us up in the now-cool water and holds my hand as I step out of the tub. Handing me a thick white towel, I watch as he quickly moves his own down his perfectly lined body. He’s so much the same.

Once I’m dry, I drop the sundress from last night over my head. He pulls on a faded pair of jeans, and I see champagne on the small table in the center of the room.