Page 73 of The Way We Fell

“Best. Birthday. Ever,” he whispers against my lips. “Ten seconds and I want you naked and spread out like a gift.” He pats my hip and tilts his head towards the stairs. I break into a jog as I navigate my way to my bedroom in the dark, shedding my clothes as I go.

It might be his birthday, but the three orgasms he gives me before we finally fall asleep have me wondering if it might secretly be mine, too.

Chapter thirty-seven

Katy

Afewdaysafterhis birthday, Jay takes me on my very first camping trip. When he saidcome away with me, I jumped to say yes. And then to say no. I found myself torn between my head and my heart: desperate to be with him, to spend a long weekend with him as my undivided focus, whilst at the same time, conscious that his sister—my best friend—still knows nothing of our relationship. And that shecan’tknow about us. So we have to lie, and that means keeping our secret from everyone.

As far as my best friends know, I’m visiting my parents on the south coast, and Jay is camping, alone. Ruth is flying out to Austin today, to visit her cowboy, but sometime, she’ll have to find out. All of our friends will. We can’t keep this a secret forever. I want a life with Jay. I want him today, tomorrow, and always, and I’m terrified of what will happen when that tomorrow comes and she finds out.

But it’s not tomorrow yet. So, for now, today, we’re in Jay’s Astra, bouncing along a dirt road in the New Forest. The small hatchback is packed to the gills with camping equipment, and he’s more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him with one hand on the wheel, elbow on the door sill, and the other hand on my thigh. He turns to me with the most dazzling smile and my heart—and my ovaries—skips a beat.

He might have been starting secondary school when I was learning to walk. He might have seen some of the most horrific things in his army career. He might be guarded and aloof, putting in endless emotional overtime to adjust to civilian life and overcome the post-traumatic stress following his injuries. But the way this man smiles at me, the way he holds me, the way he makes love to me—the way he loves me—makes me believe it’ll all work out. We’ll get our happy ending.

Fuck, if he keeps smiling at me like that, he’ll be getting a happy ending of his own. Maybe before we even reach the campsite.

Another fifteen minutes later—plus two stags, some wild ponies and a whole flock of geese in the road—Jay pulls the car onto a secluded patch of land hidden by a cluster of towering oak trees, and parks up beside the wordsplot 37etched into a large wooden sign. He’s lighter than I’ve ever seen him, with a spring in his step as he rounds the car and opens my door, offering a hand to help me out. He tugs me into him, holding me close and inhaling deeply as he rests his chin atop my head.Dear lord, please let us be this way forever, amen.

With his thumb and forefinger, he tilts my chin up and I meet his eyes a split second before his lips descend, capturing mine in the sweetest kiss. I never imagined Jay Bevan would become the man I can’t live without, but here I am—hopelessly, helplessly, desperately all up in my feels for him, and for the way he kisses me with the kind of reckless abandon I thought only existed in a steamy novel.

“Come on,” he whispers, resting his forehead against mine and tapping me on the hip. “Let’s get the tent up.”

“Are you asking me to help you pitch a tent, Mr Bevan?” I turn and walk towards the open tailgate of the car, swinging my hips as I go. I hear the low groan rumbling from Jay’s chest and I cackle.

“You’ll be the death of me, Keller,” he calls, before following me.

“And you’ll love every second,” I retort. I pull bags and boxes from the car—a cooler of beer, one full of food, my duffel bag, Jay’s backpack, our sleeping bags. I’m reaching in for the tent when Jay grabs me around the waist, pulling me from the vehicle and lifting my off my feet, swinging me around.

“Damn right I will,” he mumbles, burying his face in my throat and nipping lightly at the sensitive skin there. “For every second of my life.”

“So you’ve never camped before.” There’s only the sound of rustling leaves and Jay’s voice, and the rich baritone sends shivers down my spine in spite of the warmth from the fire.

“I don’t think you can call two hours in a tent in my grandparents’ garden in Surreycamping. I ran inside as soon as I got cold. Dad was waiting for me with a cup of hot chocolate. Clearly, he knew I wouldn’t stick it out.”

“Yeah, no. We’re not counting that.”

“Then no, I’ve never camped before.” I squat in front of the fire, holding my hands out and watching the flames cast an orange glow over my fingers. Jay is a few feet away, cautiously keeping his distance. His gaze is fixed on my fingers, head moving as my hands do—like he’s ready to leap into action if I manage to get too close. I pull back instinctively.

“So… you could say I’m popping your camping cherry.”

“If you wanted to, you could say that.” I roll my eyes, biting back a chuckle.

“I like the idea of being your first.” Jay’s voice drops to a quiet rumble, a velvet, seductive sound dripping with innuendo, and it has me clenching my core, rocking on the balls of my feet at the fireside.

“Sorry, love, you’re only about seventeen years too late.” I stand and turn to face him, cocking my hip. I watch as his eyes fix on my lower body, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

“Seventeen, huh?” I watch as he counts in his head. “Wait—you were fifteen?”

“Don’t say it like it’s so scandalous, love.”

“It fucking is, Princess. You know that’s under-age, right?”

“Arrest me, officer.” I swing my hips as I walk towards him, wrists held together and outstretched. “It was only about four months before I turned sixteen. How old were you?”

“Seventeen, I think.”

“You think?”

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