“I wanted to celebrate this night.” He hands me a glass and we clink the delicate crystal. “Having Coco here changes everything.”
My throat tightens. “In what way?”
Stepping to me, he puts his hand around my waist. “Earlier today I was afraid you were having second thoughts. By bringing her here, you proved me wrong.”
I set my glass aside and wrap my arms around his waist. “I’m sorry.”
The story I got today might be new to me, but Jackson is three years older.
“I never knew our parents were together when my dad and Minnie died.”
He moves slightly and puts his own glass aside. Strong arms go around me, and he carries me to the bed where he sits and holds me against his bare chest.
“I always thought you knew. You were old enough to remember what happened.”
Nodding, I try to remember that night, but all I remember is my dream… water filtering in through the windows, coming up from the floor…
My whole body is tight, and fear echoes through my chest. “You were there?”
“I was in the car with my dad chasing after them.” Jackson’s voice is grave, like he’s speaking memories of pain. “She told me goodbye when she tucked me into bed.”
Pushing out of his arms, I move so I can see his face. “She left you behind?”
“She said boys needed their fathers more than their mothers. She said I’d see her again one day.”
Tears heat my eyes, and I reach up to place my palm against his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
He turns his face and kisses my palm. “It was a long time ago. It’s in the past.” Wrapping his arms around me, he pulls me to him, smoothing my hair with his hands. “We’re here now. We’re together.” I feel him kiss my head. “That’s what matters.”
Snuggling down against him, I let his scent of warm woods and citrus calm my fears. I listen to him breathe and allow my heart to slow in time with his. My mother wants to cling to the past, but my present is here.
We’re moving forward together.
* * *
The scent of bacon and eggs wakes me the next morning. I open my eyes in a sunlight-filled bedroom with the warm indentation of Jackson still beside me in the bed. Rolling forward onto my stomach, I bury my face in his scent on the pillow. My though
ts return to last night, making love in the tub, making love in the bed…
Early this morning, making love again.
Voices in the kitchen pull me from my daydreaming and I hop up to investigate. I round the corner and quickly step back before they see me. Jackson stands in front of his stove in those sexy faded jeans and a white tee. Sitting in the crook of his arm is Coco.
“I don’t like tomatoes in my eggs,” she says quietly. “Or onjions.”
My hand covers my smile at her mispronunciation.
“These can be for mommy and me.” His voice is gentle, patient. “What do you want in your eggs?”
“Cheese.”
He waits a beat. “That’s it?”
“Uh-huh.”
She wipes her cheek against his shoulder then rests her head there, a golden-highlighted curl, dropping down. Her small hand is on his back, her bare feet dangle past his waist, and when he leans his head against hers, my insides melt.
His voice is a little quieter. “Do you like bacon?”