Love with Me (With Me in Seattle 11)

“I know.”

“I can work on projects at the house, and order all the damn shoes in the world, but none of that feeds my soul.”

“You’ll be back there,” I assure him. “It might happen quicker than anyone thinks. Maybe the attorneys can talk the family into dropping the case, or the hospital will settle.”

“We can hope.” He sighs and tips his forehead to mine. “Thank you. For everything. But especially for this. You’re the only one who gets it. You’re the only one—”

He breaks off, and I want to know what he was going to say. I need to know.

“What?”

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

“What are we doing, Jace?”

He’s quiet for a long moment, and I’m afraid I’ve taken this too far. But suddenly, he says, “Just sleep, Joy.”

Our legs are still tangled. My arm is draped around Jace’s waist, and he’s cradling me to him, playing with my hair as my eyes get heavier and heavier.

“Okay,” I whisper and give in to sleep.

~Jace~

Moving quietly isn’t easy when you’re six-foot-three, and the person you’re trying not to wake up is tangled up with you.

Dawn is just breaking, casting the room in shadows. Joy’s face is buried against my chest, and she’s murmuring in her sleep.

She’s a sleep talker.

I manage to disengage my legs and ease off the couch, replacing my chest with a pillow. Once I’m standing, I pause to make sure Joy continues sleeping.

Nancy snores from her bed, and Carl is curled up with the canine, both oblivious to me and my jumbled thoughts.

I grab my keys and quietly leave Joy’s house. I need to go home. I need to get away from her and think.

I’m not sneaking off because I’ve done anything wrong. No, I just need to clear my head. To think things through and get a grip on these feelings I have for her. If I stayed on that couch for one more minute, I would have crossed a line I swore I never would with Joy.

But it’s becoming harder and harder to keep my damn hands off her.

“I’m a dick,” I mutter and rub my fingers over my mouth. “I can’t just leave her like that. This is Joy, not some one-night stand.

I’ve never even had a one-night stand, and I’m not going to treat Joy like one. This isn’t the walk of shame. She’s my best friend, and my fucked-up feelings can’t mess with that.

She deserves better.

She’s right, my mama raised me right, and respecting women is paramount to me. Sneaking off while she sleeps is not respectful.

It’s fucking chickenshit.

So, I pull into a drive-through to pick up breakfast to take back to her. Yes, my feelings for Joy are changing, and have been for some time now. She’s always been my friend. We’re kindred spirits. But it’s more than that.

She’s more than that.

And it’s messing with me, possibly more than the shit happening at the hospital is, and that’s a lot.

I pull into her driveway, grab the bag of food and tray of coffees, and walk back into her house. She’s sitting up on the couch, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“I thought I heard you leave,” she says quietly. “Thought you were sneaking out on me.”

Guilty as charged. “Nah, I thought we needed more food.”

“You feed me a lot.”

I set the bag on the table and pass her a coffee, which she sniffs. She closes her eyes in happiness and issues a moan, making my dick twitch. Her hair is a mess, hanging around her face in loose, tangled curls. Her eyes are heavy with sleep, and her clothes from yesterday are wrinkled.

She’s never been more beautiful.

“Complaining?” I ask with a laugh as I sit next to her on the couch.

“Of course, not,” she says with a smile and reaches for her breakfast burrito, taking a big bite. Nancy, who has caught a whiff of the food, stretches and comes to beg at Joy’s side. “These are so good.”

“Mm,” I agree, chewing. We fall into silence, eating and drinking coffee. What used to be a comfortable silence has turned into awkwardness. I can hear a clock ticking in one of the rooms. A car drives past.

And with every passing minute, I want to pull her to me and kiss the hell out of her. I want to peel off her clothes and tuck her under my body as I make love to her all fucking day.

But this is Joy.

“Fuck,” she says, setting down her food and hanging her head in her hands. She pushes on her eye sockets, then scrubs her palms over her face. “We’ve made it weird. Why is it so fucking awkward?”

“I don’t know.” I stand, relieved that I’m not the only one who feels this way. I grab her hand and pull her into my arms, rocking us both back and forth. “And I’m sorry for it.”

“I need you in my life, Jace.”

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere.”

Hell, no, I’m not going anywhere.

“But we’ll start to avoid each other because who wants to sit in awkward silence?”

“It’s one breakfast,” I remind her. “You might be overthinking this just a tad.”

“No,” she says, pulling back so she can look up into my face. “You know what I’m talking about. It’s been happening for weeks. I know you, inside and out, and things are changing.”

“We’re going to figure this out.” I pull her to me again. Her body fits perfectly against mine. “We’ll figure it out together. We’re smart people. We’ve got this. The most important thing is, we’re not ever going to lose each other, no matter what.”

“Tell me you feel it,” she whispers, her arms tightening around me.

“I’ve felt it for a long time,” I admit softly, and we fall back into silence, just holding onto each other in the stillness. I don’t know what else to say.

“I have to go to work,” she finally murmurs into my chest. “I don’t want to.”

“I’m meeting with Levi at my place in a little while. He’s going to help me with some of the projects I’m going to start around the house.”

“That’s nice of him.”

Neither of us pulls away. I love the way she feels in my arms. Small yet strong. Feminine.

Sexy as fuck.

“I want to see you tonight,” I say, and she sighs in my arms, then pulls away and pushes her hair out of her face.

“Jace, maybe we need some time apart. To think things through and figure out—”

“No way. I know I don’t need any time away from you,” I interrupt immediately. “Fuck that, Joy. I’m not running from this. I told you we’re going to figure it out together, and that’s what we’re going to do. Not seeing you isn’t the way to accomplish that.”

She chews her plump lip and watches me with wide eyes, concern etched all over her beautiful face.

“I should be home around seven,” she says at last, and relief rushes through me.

“I’ll be here.”

“That’s sixteen feet,” Levi says a few hours later as he holds the tape measure. “This is going to be a lot of painting.”

“I have a lot of time,” I mutter, writing down the measurements. “Might as well paint this ugly bathroom. I think I’ll get a new vanity, as well. And maybe new tile.”

“Hire a contractor,” Levi suggests. “Because tile is a bitch. You can afford it.”

“Yeah, I’ll hire someone for the tile. Wyatt will know someone.”

Our baby brother’s an architect and is hands-on when his homes are built. He has people for this sort of thing.

“Why isn’t he here helping?” Levi asks. Levi is the eldest of us three brothers. He’s a Seattle detective, and I couldn’t be prouder of him.

“Because he and Lia are wedding planning. Again.” I shrug. “He’ll come help another day. We have to go pick up the tuxes on Wednesday afternoon.”

“I know,” he says. “This wall is nine feet.”

“This is a big bathroom, considering no one ever uses it,” I comment, looking around.