Page 129 of Caged

He squeezed my hand before bringing it to his lips and kissing it. “Absolutely.”

His smile melted my insides.

“Just remember, I told you first,” he said.

I’d never seen his playful side, but I loved it. “I was unconscious, so it doesn’t count.”

I love all of him. The good, the bad, the scarred, and the sexy.

“So you heard me?” he asked, lifting one eyebrow.

“I did, although I thought it was my imagination,” I admitted.

Before I could say it first, he said, “I love you, Catelyn Maxwell.”

“I love you, Jaden Sheppard.”

He stood and leaned over the table to kiss me. I held my breath as I waited, desperate to feel his lips on mine.

Just before he made contact, he pulled back a little.

I opened my eyes to see him looking at me, mischief sparkling in his eyes.

“You’re not going to slap me again, are you?”

I reached forward, grabbed the collar of his tee, and pulled him in. “Shut up and kiss me.”

He answered with his lips. Unfortunately, neither of us was gentle and we both ended up wincing in pain.

We pulled back, looked each other in the eye, and busted out laughing.

“Maybe we hold off for another day or two,” he suggested.

I didn’t like that idea, not one bit, but he was right. We couldn’t enjoy the kiss if it hurt.

I could only imagine what Jay’s kiss would be like, knowing it had curled my toes when I hadn’t wanted it.

“You’re blushing.” He brushed his knuckles down my lesser-bruised cheek. “Want to tell me what’s going through that brilliant mind of yours?”

I didn’t need to, his grin told me he knew full well what I was thinking.

“No.” I pulled him in for another kiss. “One more.” We settled for a soft kiss; one that felt like a promise of more.

Chapter 49

Jay

Cate called her dad out of the bedroom. We didn’t have to tell him we’d worked out our issues; it was pathetically obvious from the way we looked at each other.

That, and I refused to let go of her hand until it was time to eat.

When I listed off the options, Cate did the predicable thing and chose the Cobb salad. I told her to start while I warmed up the sandwiches and fries.

When I reached for the microwave door, she said, “Heat them in the oven so they don’t get soggy.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I braced for the incoming correction, but it never came. Cate was quiet. Too quiet.

When I turned to see her expression, she said, “Don’t call me ma’am.”

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