"It's safe to say I'm not tidy at this moment." She carefully pulled her arm out from under Peter's head and stood up. Jake didn't back up and they were pressed almost body to body.
"No, you're not."
"Neither are you," she said, running her hands over his rough jaw. He felt earthy against her soft fingers and she wished they were alone. She leaned up and kissed him. Jake responded with a longing that took her by surprise. The kiss was carnal and deep and when he stepped away she shivered with desire.
"Rissa, is there something you're trying to tell me here?" he asked.
"Well, maybe I am."
"I'm not going to make any more guesses where you're concerned any longer."
"I'm sorry about that last morning in Vegas. I guess I freaked out."
"Our wedding night was incredible."
"Yes, it was. I don't want that to be our only night together."
"It won't be."
"Good, then we're on the same page."
"Larissa, we're not in a meeting with the library board."
She flushed. "I know. But it's easier to talk about it in business terms."
He shook his head. "Are you saying you want to be my wife, in every sense?"
"Yes," she said softly and cuddled closer to the man she'd given her heart to.
* * *
Jake felt he'd been through the ringer. He was used to blithely skating through life. Keeping his emotions in a nice safe place that was only breached by his siblings, parents and cousins. Over the past twenty-four hours he'd come to realize that Peter and Larissa had found their way into his heart.
Peter was naturally easy to love. The boy was a blend of Jake's rambunctious go-get-'em attitude and Larissa's quiet intelligence. It was an odd combination and it awed Jake to think that part of him was going to live on through Peter after he was gone.
And he'd realized he didn't want to lose this family he'd found, the family he'd created when he was still so self-involved that he'd never noticed. The family that he knew he'd never be able to survive without.
Larissa yawned behind her hand and her shoulder slumped with fatigue. She looked as if she was about to collapse. "Why don't you take the Suburban and go home and rest?"
He liked to think that he'd helped her through this crisis. And it had been a crisis. He could handle any major problem at D&D's, but nothing had made him sweat like watching Peter struggle to breathe. It had made him realize how fragile this life was. It had reminded him of all the reasons he'd started hiding his feelings when Vicky had disappeared. Only now he knew that hiding wasn't the solution. Celebrating life and remembering the reasons why it was good were important.
"Thanks, but I think I'd better stay here in case Peter wakes up."
"Don't you trust me to take care of him?" he asked. He had to wonder. She'd scarcely left him alone with Peter since they'd been at the hospital. Her quiet strength surprised him, but it shouldn't have. Larissa was a survivor.
She closed her eyes, hiding from him. As always, she was a mystery to him.
"Of course, I do. It's just I don't…"
"You don't what?" He wondered sometimes what she saw in him. She'd always been the one person that had slipped past his guard. The one person he could tell his dreams to who didn't make him feel like an idiot. The one person he'd always wanted to impress. And he had the feeling that sometimes he came close to doing that.
"I don't want him to need someone else," she said in a rush of honesty.
He understood. Sometimes it was easier to be everything to someone than to share the responsibility. "I'm not some stranger, Rissa. I'm his dad."
"You're right. I'm still not used to trusting men in general."
"Me in particular?" he asked. Hell, he sounded like a sap. Why did it matter if she didn't trust him? Because you love her, a voice inside him said. The thought staggered him.
She pivoted to face him. He couldn't read her expression, but he didn't care anymore. Now he was concerned with hiding his own weakness from her. He'd always been the strong one and he wasn't going to let anything—not even Larissa—change that. "I trust you, Jacob Danforth, more than I'd ever thought I could trust any man."
Her words went straight through him. The mantle of responsibility felt heavy on his shoulders and he vowed that he'd never do anything to make her doubt the faith she'd placed in him. God, he needed to be alone with his wife. He needed to know that his son was safe and healthy and then take his wife to bed and reaffirm the bonds they'd tentatively forged in Vegas.
"Come here, woman," he said.
"Why?"
Because I need you, he thought but didn't dare say. "Just get over here."