Old Fashioned - Becker Brothers

“I told him I wanted a divorce the next day,” I said. “Not to his face. I didn’t stay, because I knew he wouldn’t let me go if I did. I got a lawyer, made sure everything was on paper just in case anything happened, you know? And I wrote him a letter and got on a plane with Paige to go see my parents and my sister for Christmas.” I shook my head. “My dad called Randy, and I don’t know what was said, but honestly, Jordan, I think the only reason he signed the papers and granted the divorce was because I agreed to stay in town, to not move Paige away, and he knew…” I sniffed. “He knew that if I stayed, he’d still have power over me.”

Jordan softened, pulling me into him again on a sigh and resting his chin on the crown of my head. “He will never hurt you again. I promise.”

Tears finally broke free at his words, because I knew that he meant them with every fiber of his being. I knew that if it came to it, Jordan Becker would go to war for me, for Paige, for us.

And I wasn’t sure I deserved it.

He held me for a long while before I sat up straight again, swiping the tears from my face and letting out a long, slow exhale. “Anyway, enough of this,” I said, forcing a smile. “You wanted to talk about something.”

“Sydney…”

“Please,” I said, nearly crying again. “I really don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

He frowned, but nodded in understanding. “Well, what I had to talk about can wait, too.”

“No, please, you wanted to talk first, and then I sprung this all on you, and—”

“Hey,” he said, his knuckles finding my chin. He tilted it up, those blue eyes searching mine while I traced the rim of gold around his iris. “I am always here for you. Okay? Always. You are not a nuisance, and I want to be this person for you.” He swallowed. “I want to be your everything.”

My chest tightened, a mixture of the most intense longing and desire I’d ever felt swirling in a tornado with all the anxiety and warning sounds my body could release all at once.

“Jordan…”

But before I could speak, his lips were on mine, the warm swells both comforting and demanding as he took the words I was going to say and swallowed them whole.

I pulled back, breathless, fingers trailing down his chest before I grabbed his hand and stood. He followed me down the hall to the guest room, where we could be alone without the possibility of waking Paige since my room was next to hers.

When I closed the door behind us, the only light came from the horizontal slits in the closed blinds, and they cast streams of white across his face, his chest, his arms, his hands where they reached for me and pulled me in again, the next kiss tender and sure.

Just like that, we were done talking.JordanSomething about the way the night settled over both of us in Sydney’s dark guest room was different than any time we’d been alone before.

The moment that door closed behind us with a quiet snick, the moment her hands reached for me in the dark, and mine reached for her, and our mouths connected, comfortable and instinctively, it sent a charge through me like an electric current. I felt that energy spread like warm oil, slicking up every joint, seeping into every crevice, filling me up whole.

I cradled her face in my hands, my eyes closed as I tasted her, memorized her, my heart aching from what she’d confessed in the other room. The urge to protect her and keep her safe tore through me in the next moment, and I pulled her into me, crushing her in my embrace as I strengthened the kiss.

Sydney gasped, and as soon as her mouth opened I was walking her backward, kissing down her neck and over her collarbone until the back of her knees hit the bed.

“Lie down,” I whispered, and she reached blindly back, hands finding the bed as she sat and stared up at me, her chest heaving.

Without a word, I reached down for the hem of her sweater, peeling it up and over her head as she lifted her arms to let me. Then I kissed her, pushing her back until she was flat on the bed, and I kissed down, down — over the swells of her breasts, the muscles of her abdomen, the smooth skin above the band of her leggings.

My fingers dipped beneath that band, and Sydney lifted her hips, helping me peel them down her thighs and calves until they rested at her ankles. I kept my eyes on hers as I pulled them the rest of the way off, letting them fall to the floor.