Page 81 of Rescuing Josiah
She shrugged and crossed over to him. “I don’t care even a little bit. Our story has already been pretty perfect.”
“It would also turn out to be a pretty cool plot twist ifyouwere the secret millionaire or billionaire,” he teased, wonderinghow it was even possible to feel this level of lightness and hope after so many years trapped in the dark.
Her eyes lit up and she giggled. “Reverse secret millionaire or billionaire, you're right that would be cool. Alas, I am not. Not even close. Although, as my parents’ only kid, I will inherit a bit when they die. They’re good with money and they don’t like extravagant things so I will get a lot, but quite honestly, I'd rather have them forever than their money.”
Which was exactly the way it was supposed to be. And the same way he was with his parents, although his inheritance would be split four ways.
If he’d had his choice, he would have eased his way back into a relationship with his parents rather than them just turning up the way they had. Maybe started with some texting, then when he felt up to it, some phone calls, then some video calls, before he was finally ready to meet face to face.
Instead, he’d had to jump into the deep end. Which had turned out to be what he really needed anyway.
“So if you're not a millionaire or a billionaire, how did you afford a place like this? These views are magnificent, and we’re right in the middle of the city, plus there are three bedrooms and two bathrooms.”
For a moment, the bitter threatened to outweigh the bittersweet, and as though she somehow sensed that his mood was dropping, Chelsea leaned into him, wrapping her arms snuggly around his waist and resting her cheek against his chest. There was a slight tug on his wound as he likewise wrapped his arms around hers, but the physical pain helped to anchor him. Stopped him from giving into the emotional pain and letting it drag him back down.
“My team and I pooled our money to buy it. It was our retreat, our place to hang out when we were on leave. When we were shipped out, we rented the place out to give us extraincome. We spent some fun times here. Laughing, talking, just hanging out.” Memories flashed through his mind, images of his friends lounging around the living room, pizza boxes scattered about and empty cans. “Good times.”
“I'm glad you have those memories of them,” Chelsea whispered. “When the bad ones try to choke them out, hold onto them. Remember your friends the way they would want you to remember them. Alive, strong, healthy, and happy.”
“Happy,” he echoed. For so long that word had been foreign to him, so far out of reach he had completely given up on it. Until one stubborn brunette with storm gray eyes and the biggest of hearts set her sights on him. “We always planned that if something happened to one of us, the rest of the guys could decide what to do with the place. Some of them had already gotten married, and were starting families, so at some point we probably would have sold it and split the cash. For the last six years it’s been rented out, I sent the money to the widows left behind. Wanted to help ease their burden however I could.”
It hadn't been enough. Josiah knew he should have been man enough to face them himself, express his sorrow that he hadn't done enough to save their loved ones, and apologize for still being alive when the men they loved weren't.
“Of course you did. You may have hidden this big heart of yours, but I always saw it.” Chelsea’s hand pressed on his chest against his heart, and warmth seemed to seep deep down inside him, thawing that heart he’d hidden even from himself.
“If you don’t want to live here, then we can still sell it, split the money with the guys’ families, and then buy something else, but … I'm hoping you might want to build our future here. I’ll buy out the other’s partners for fair market value.” This place was full of happy memories, and he wanted to add to them with Chelsea. Wanted to build a lifetime of joy in a home that had meaning to him. A way to honor his fallen teammates in theright way, by remembering them as the vibrant people they’d been and not dead bodies with empty eyes lying in the hot desert sand.
“I can't think of anywhere I’d rather build our future than right here, surrounded by the memories of the people you loved and lost.” Chelsea beamed up at him, tears shimmering in her eyes, but this time he didn't have to ask to know they were happy tears.
“It was pure luck that the last rental contract ended right before we went undercover. I’d intended to talk to the real estate agent about looking for new tenants when we got back.”
“Not luck, the universe giving you what you needed, a safe place to start over.”
Josiah was never going to think of the world in the same romantic ways that Chelsea did, but he knew having her around would always mean his world was full of love and light, of joy and peace.
“I know we were told that sex was absolutely off the table for at least a couple of weeks, but if you don’t make love to me now, I'm pretty sure I'm going to die,” Chelsea said, and the complete and utter seriousness of her words made him laugh.
“No one ever died from lack of sex before, Chels.”
Arching a brow at him, she planted her hands on her hips. “You really want to risk it?”
More laughter tumbled from his lips, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so many times in such a short space of time. Years. Before he lost his team and his world became cloaked in darkness.
Now light was trickling in. It wasn’t flooding in yet, there had been too much damage done, and he’d need to work hard to clear away the darkness, but for now, there was enough light for him to see not only his surroundings but what lay ahead.
A lifetime of happiness with this woman who was daring him to deny her sex.
Sex he had no intention of denying, because he needed her more than he needed to breathe.
“Are you going to be a good girl and let me do all the work?”
“Not a chance, you're hurt too.”
“Hmm.” Backing her up until she bumped into the closest wall, Josiah planted one hand on the wall beside her head and leaned in until his lips were millimeters from hers. “That’s a shame,” he murmured as his free hand dipped down the waistband of the ankle-length, floaty white skirt she wore. “Because if you don’t agree to let me do all the work, I'm not sure I can give you what you want.” Nudging a finger between her legs, he dragged it along her already soaked panties.
Hips bucking of their own accord, seeking more, Chelsea gave him her best puppy dog eyes. “Wouldn't be fair to let you do all the work when we’re both hurt. I don’t want you to break open all your stitches.”
“Such a shame.” Keeping his touch featherlight, he continued to sweep his fingertip across her center, brushing against her bud with each soft caress.
