Page 32 of Wrapped Up In You
Hayden’s strokes stuttered and his entire body stiffened as he threw his head back in ecstasy. I didn’t have time to appreciate the beauty of him before my own orgasm barreled through me. I slammed my eyes shut, my load spilling between us, mingling with his, hot and sticky between our bodies. It felt like it went on forever, spasm after spasm coursing through me, even after he collapsed on top of me.
He rolled off me, settling his head on my shoulder and tossing one leg over my thigh as we both came down from the rush of our orgasm. The silence stretched between us, and I began to worry. It wasn’t like Hayden to go so long without speaking, and I worried my declaration a bit ago had been too much for him.
“You okay?” I threaded my hand through his hair, nervously awaiting his response.
“This is all just happening so fast,” he said quietly. “One second, I’m floating on cloud nine, and the next, I’m terrified it’s all going to come crashing down.”
I continued to run my hand through his hair, playing with the strands. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m scared too.”
He finally pulled his head up to look at me, disbelief etched into his features. “You are?”
“Of course I am. You’re talking to the guy who never makes a move without analyzing it from seventeen different directions. This is happening fast for me too.”
“How are you so okay with it, then?”
“It’s actually pretty simple. I mean, it’s really not. It’s complicated as hell.” I ran my hand along his cheek. “But what it boils down to is that when I think about going back to my regular everyday boring life, and I imagine it without you in it, I find that far scarier than all the rest of it.”
“Oh shit, Lucy. When did you get so romantic?” Finally, I saw the hint of a smile turning up his lips, and relief flooded me.
“It’s not romance, Hay. It’s just the truth.”
18
HAYDEN
Jonathan came up behind me and pressed a kiss to the center of my neck as I stood in front of the sink, brushing my teeth. We’d showered, taking as much time to clean each other as we dared before the water turned cold again. He’d been tender and sweet as he washed me, saying very little as he took care of me. It made me feel treasured.
“I want to spend the day with you,” he said, meeting my eyes in the mirror.
“I told you I’d stay today.”
“No, I mean, I want to get out of the house. Go into town and explore. Maybe grab a bite to eat.” He wrapped his arms around me from behind and rested his chin on my shoulder. “It looks like the driveway is mostly melted. We shouldn’t have any problem getting one of our cars out.”
“You want to take me on a date?”
His smile was shy like he was a teenager asking out a date for the first time. It was endearing. “I guess you could call it that. Is that okay?”
Warmth spread from the center of my chest, radiating outward and across my face in the form of a wide smile. “I’d love to spend the day with you.” I turned in his arms and kissed him deeply but pulled back before it could turn dirty. “How soon do you want to go?”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
We finished getting ready, Lucy dressed in crisp jeans and a sweater over a button-down while I wore joggers and a hoodie—staples of my personality—and a ball cap backward over my overgrown hair I’d meant to have cut before the holiday but had forgotten. Again.
I was once again struck by how different we were, but I was trying not to hyper-focus on that and simply enjoy the time I had with him for as long as he wanted me.
We made the twenty-minute drive in his Audi without incident. The roads were fairly clear, though the trees were still blanketed in snow, and with the sun shining, the landscape was nearly blindingly white against the pure blue sky.
Since the cabin belonged to Jonathan’s side of the family, I’d only been up here one other time and hadn’t really explored the town other than to pick up grocery staples. My breath caught as we pulled onto Main Street. It looked like something straight out of a greeting card. The storefronts were clad in brick, stone, and wood, each one unique, with windows displaying post-Christmas sale items. Evergreen garlands hung from one side of the street to the other, with red bows adorning them, zig-zagging the length of the street. I hoped we would be here long enough for dark to fall so I could see everything lit up for the holiday.
After driving the length of Main Street—the equivalent of about one city block—Jonathan found a parking spot near what looked to be a small café. We popped in and ordered coffee and pastries, which we ate at the only table in the shop, tucked into a corner near the back.
“Tell me a story about your childhood. Something about the cabin or this town. We’ve talked about your dad, but I’ve never really heard you talk about anyone else in your family.” I was careful to avoid mention of his mom specifically, as I’d only ever heard him bring her up one time and suspected that was a sensitive topic, but I knew he had other family, and I wanted to know more.
He thought for a moment, nibbling on a bite of his cinnamon apple muffin that was leaving crumbs everywhere. Every couple of bites, he’d sweep the crumbs into a neat little pile with his hands. He did this so efficiently, almost absentmindedly, that I was sure it was just something he did without thinking, like it was hard-wired into his DNA to make sure all messes were promptly taken care of.
“Grandpa Sam was my father’s polar opposite. They drove each other crazy, but I found him absolutely fascinating. My mother died when I was four, so it’s been just me and my dad for as long as I can remember. As you’ve pointed out”—he raised an eyebrow at me—“my father and I are quite similar, so I found it endlessly fascinating to see someone so…different from us. Grandpa was brash, cursed like a sailor, and laughed louder and more often than anyone I’ve ever met.”
He sipped his coffee, then continued, “He owned a chain of shoe stores in the city that did moderately well—well enough that he was able to build the cabin out here when I was eight or nine, I think. After that, I’d come out here with him a couple of times a year, usually once in winter and once or twice in summer, sometimes for a weekend, sometimes longer. We’d hike or fish or just hang out at the cabin, playing board games, watching movies, or reading books. I hated the fishing but didn’t really mind the hiking, and I always enjoyed listening to his stories. I think it was the only time in my life I was allowed to be a kid. I could spill stuff, leave clothes on the floor, and track dirt into the cabin, and he never batted an eye.”
