Page 73 of The Heart Shot
Me too, Rhys. Me too.
I plopped down next to Jameson, leaving several inches of space which he quickly wiggled over to erase. His smile reminded me of an excited kid, and I couldn’t help but laugh. I flipped the TV on and turned it to reruns ofFriends.
“Break or no break?” Jameson asked as Ross and Rachel talked on the screen.
“Huh?”
“The age-old question forFriendsfans. Were Ross and Rachel on a break?” His eyes twinkled at the joke.
Eep! He knowsFriends!Smitten Elsie squealed in my mind.
“Hmm. Not a break.”
He smiled. “They were always meant to be together.” He nudged me with his elbow.
He’s perrrrfect!Smitten Elsie was enjoying this a little too much.
I had a feeling if my cat could talk, he’d be purring, “he’s puuuurrrfect,” too.
When the food was gone, Jameson took my plate and glass and brought them to the kitchen. Over the back of the couch, I watched as he quickly scrubbed down the plates and dried them with a towel.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I called.
“I wanted to,” he said, returning to my side and pressing a kiss to my forehead. He scooted us into the corner of the couch and then tucked me into his side.I loved those small, seemingly insignificant touches that spoke things that words never could.
“What are you in the mood to watch?” I asked, flipping through the channels.
“Anything you want.”
I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “Be careful what you wish for.”
His whole body shook as he laughed. “Do your worst, Elsie.”
My cheeks warmed at the sound of my name on his lips.I skipped through the channels until I finally landed on something that would be distracting but nottoodistracting. Jameson raised his brows at my choice.
“You said do my worst,” I taunted, crossing my arms, smug.
“Never in a million years would I have expected you to turn on Hallmark Christmas movies.” He playfully nudged my nose, and I melted a little bit more.
“I can change it,” I replied, suddenly self-conscious. Ben always hated these movies. He thought they were stupid, cheesy, and unrealistic. Fairytales for royalty, not people like us.
Jameson snatched the remote from my hand and held it out of my reach. “Nope, too late. You already picked.”
Indignant, I tried to reach for the remote, but his arms were too long, and it ended with me partially straddling his lap before I finally stole it back.
Too late, I realized what I had done.
Our faces were inches apart, and all it would take was for me to swing my leg the rest of the way over to be in his lap. My breathing was suddenly too loud in my ears, coming in quick gasps like I had just finished a workout. Jameson relinquished the remote into my hands but placed his on my waist before they slid to my back and pulled me toward him.
Tension crackled between us, hot and heavy, before his lips crashed into mine.
My hands were instantly in his hair and his skimmed the skin at the hem of my shirt, setting me ablaze. His tongue traced my lip before he bit it lightly, eliciting a small noise from my throat had him smiling against my mouth.
A romantic Christmas movie played on the screen in the background, but all my thoughts were consumed with the feeling of him holding me, his fingers pressing into my skin and tangling in my hair. The way his lips moved in perfect synchronization with my own.
By the time we pulled apart, we were breathless, and I barely registered that the movie was over and the next one had started as my mind spun, high on Jameson’s kisses.
I half-expected Jameson to finish what he started, and I worried that I would have to pump the brakes a bit. But instead of pushing me farther than I was comfortable, he flipped me around, tucking me into his side. My head nestled beneath his chin as he draped the fleece blanket from the back of the couch over us and held me tight, turning the volume up on the TV.
