Page 94 of Forbidden Love Still Blooms

"Lori …"

I open the closet, pull out a shovel. "Let me handle it from here."

And I did. I handled everything.

"We never wanted his damn money," I say to Jordan. "We just wanted to be safe. But no one would ever believe that. Mom would be the one behind bars right now if I didn't do what had to be done." I look across at him. He's completely still, perhaps afraid of me. I prefer to think he's realizing the depth of my love for my mother. “I did everything to keep her safe, Jordan. How can I not understand you doing the same for me?”

Jordan exhales like a steam engine.

I say, “She was finally able to get the money from his account with his death certificate. Know what she did with it? Donated it to a domestic abuse charity. She never wants anyone to endure the things we did.”

He's at my side in a blink. One firm hand closes on my wrist, taking the shears. It's easy, I was holding them wrong. I always did. Mom's better with them than me. Jordan pushes them into the hole in the wall, hides them away with the tile. “Never tell anyone,”he whispers.

I nod. “Of course not.”

Jordan slumps, invisible anchors break off his body. I feel it too. The shift as our world comes free of the shackles, and as we both, simultaneously, realize it. “It's over,” he says seriously.

“What does that mean?” I ask.

Looping his fingers in my hair, he forces me closer, propels his chest into me. “It means you're mine." His thumb rides over my bottom lip, eliciting a shiver. Heat blossoms between my thighs, hotter than ever with no bad omens to quell it. “No more secrets, sweet bird. I don't care what anyone thinks about us. The only people who could do anything to hurt us are gone. Dead, buried, locked away … we're free.”

He kisses me tenderly, exploring my mouth like it's our first time. In a way it is. The demons that whispered threats in our ears, lurking just around the corner, are banished. They've been torn out by the root the way Jordan cleared the jagged roses from my backyard.

I know he did it. It happened after he left the hotel. I'm not mad he lied about a work emergency. How can I be when I told so many more lies?

There's no need for secrets now. I gave him my last one, and I won't create any more.

“I love you,” I whisper on his soft lips.

“I love this,” he says, nipping my skin. His palm spreads over my ass, digging in until I mewl, fingers drifting through the material into the cleft. “I love every inch of your body, your breath, your heart, and mind. Lorikeet … you're all I ever wanted without me knowing how much I needed it. I'll never be able to let you go.”

“Good, I don't want you to.”

His chuckle ripples in my ear drum, tickling my brain. “Tell me what you do want, then.”

“I want you to kiss me.”

“Where? Here?” His mouth presses on mine, tongue moving across my roof, making shapes that drive me mad. “Or here?” Gripping my hips he lifts me onto the counter, spreading my thighs, kissing my bare knee. I'd chosen a loose pink t-shirt dress to deal with the June heat today. It gives him easy access to my vulnerable places.

“Wait, not in the kitchen, my mom could walk in.”

“You're suddenly such a shy girl,” he teases, kissing my neck. “You screamed so loudly at the hotel I didn't think you cared.”

He bites my earlobe, my head lolling back as I quiver. “I know where we can go, Jordan.”

“A place no one will bother us?”

“Exactly.”

Jordan levels my mouth with his. Pleasure lances down to my pussy, my legs wrapping around his ribs in response. He lifts me over his shoulder, dangling my knees over his chest like he's some wild man who's stolen me from a village he ransacked. His hand connects loudly on my ass in a sharp slap that makes me yelp. “Tell me where to go, sweet bird. I'll carry you.”

He isn't kidding. I say, “Out back,” and he carries me down the rear steps of my porch, across the manicured grass, around the newly covered hole that's been hidden beneath patches of sod. Without roses to disguise the area, it's obvious it's been dug up recently. I close my eyes as we pass.

The shed sits half a football field away from my house. The sides are the color of rain clouds, a single tall, skinny window facing the trees to the east. Crawling vines and leaves have collected on the roof—I brushed off most of it two days ago, but it wasn't my main concern. The interior was.

Jordan slows as we reach the front door with its dulled silver handle. I go to climb from his body, but he grabs firmer, halting me. “Jordan?”

“I said I'd carry you,” he explains. “Plus, I'm enjoying having your ass so close to my face.” He gives it another slap, causing my entire core to heat up. He uses the same hand to open the shed door. I can't see what he sees, I'm facing the opposite way, but I already know. It's my room, my space, and hours of cleaning it left it imprinted in my head.

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