Page 52 of Jett

“Because of Josh.”

I nod. “I meant those words when I said them in front of our family and friends, in front of God. I promised to love and cherish, to be faithful, and I already broke that promise once. I can’t do it again.”

“You asked me if I miss my wife—I don’t. That makes me a bad man, I know.” Jett leans in, his arms encircling my waist, his fingertips softly trailing my spine. “I don’t miss my wife, darlin’, but I do miss you.”

I still. I don’t dare glance up at him. I know it’s a battle I’ll lose because the truth is, I miss him too.

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“I ain’t gonna push you to do somethin’ you’re not comfortable with. I respect that you made a promise you intend to keep. I think it’s bullshit given he broke his promise first—somethin’ I would never do. I would never leave you like that, Raine. If you were mine ...” He shakes his head. “I’d be trying to spend every minute of every day just holding you.”

I look up at him. I fall into those bright blue eyes and I keep on falling. He kisses the tip of my nose, and when I don’t pull away, he angles his head and kisses my lips. It’s sweet and chaste—much more gentle than I ever imagined he’d be capable of, but when I open to him it quickly turns passionate. He lifts me, and sets me on the counter, upending the beer all over the floor. I don’t even have time to protest as the amber liquid splashes our legs and my kitchen cabinets. Jett’s hands grip my hair as he kisses me, and my own fingers roam his chest beneath the cut, and slide under his T-shirt. Hard-won muscle greets me: perfectly sculpted pecs and abs. His hips are between my thighs, and his erection is pressed against my heat. It’s intoxicating. It’s raw and brutal—passion and need—and it’s a complete betrayal. I pull away, sucking in air as I meet those eyes that seem to swirl an even brighter blue.

“I can’t,” I pant.

“Shit,” he mutters, raking his hand through his wheat-blond hair. “I’m not gonna apologise for kissing you. I’ll never be sorry for that.”

A nervous laugh escapes me because I know what he means. How can kissing him, being with him, feel so right and be so wrong? “I don’t want you to apologise, and I don’t want you to stop, but—”

He takes my face in his hands and kisses me again, deeply, ferociously, so hard and hot my head is spinning. I press my hands against his and pry them from my cheeks. “Jett.”

“I know.” He sighs. “I know you can’t let this happen again, and I should go.”

“Do you have to?”

“Jesus, woman. You sure know how to send mixed fuckin’ signals.”

“I’m sorry. I just. I don’t like being alone after ...”

“The attack?”

“Everything. I can’t stand it, actually.”

“You think about getting a room-mate?”

“Oh, I couldn’t. I don’t want to impose. It’s not my place, and you’ve already been good enough to me just letting me stay here.”

“You don’t have any friends you can call to come stay with you?”

“Nope. That’s the price I pay for working so hard to keep Josh in care.” I shrug. “Everyone just sort of stepped away after his accident. I didn’t have time to foster fake friendships, so here we are.”

“You want me to be your room-mate?”

I chuckle, but then baulk when I see he’s serious. “Do you really think that’s a good idea. I mean, you’ve been here an hour and we can barely keep our hands off one another.”

“Sounds like a fucking brilliant idea to me.”

“I’m serious. This ...” I point between us, but he catches my hand and presses it against his chest. “Whatever this is between us, I can’t ...wecan’t let this happen again.”

“And if I promise to keep my hands and appendages to myself?”

“You can’t seriously believe this is going to work?”

“Why the hell not? You can’t sleep on your own, your wrist is still in a cast, and I’m very good with my hands.”

I laugh and he gives me one of those sexy smirks.

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