Page 88 of Chasing Wildflowers
Asking Jameson to move in with me was a no-brainer. I knew I never wanted to wake up without him beside me.
My nightmare, the one where Byron finds me, is gone. Replaced with Jameson being shot right before my eyes. Jameson is always right there, when I wake up, his strong arms and soft words reassuring me that we are safe.
Byron’s father doesn't know he came back, so there’s no danger of revenge. He never wanted Ceciley found anyway. Not when her disappearance protected his family’s reputation. Now that she is officially dead, the cops will never look for me either.
I am finally,completelyfree.
Because of Jameson.
I’ve forgiven him for everything. I understand why he did it, and I love him too much to let that stand in our way. He continues to be nothing short of amazing. He still brings me flowers, takes me on dates, opens my door, and reminds me daily how much he loves me; both with his words and his body.
God.
His body.
All taunt muscles and sharp lines, built for sin. Those big hands. Sometimes gentle, sometimes pinning me down while he drives into me, make me feel owned in the best way.
His filthy words can make me forget my own name, and when he’s inside me, filling me, stretching me…the rest of the world ceases to exist. And that piercing? It’s my undoing every single time.
Life is pretty damn perfect.
We pull up to the shelter, a five-story red brick building in the middle of downtown, with tall windows glinting in the morning light. My heart thrums with excitement, a low hum beneath my ribs.
“I hope you have an amazing first day, Wildflower. I will meet you for lunch at that little cafe you wanted to try,” Jameson says.
I turn toward him, my smile widening. “I love you, Jameson.”
“I love you too, baby.” He gives me a soft kiss, careful not to mess up my lipstick. But still swats my ass when I get out.
I step into the crisp winter air and head inside, my pulsing drumming in my chest with excitement.
Kathy, the manager of the shelter, greets me with a warm smile as I step into the lobby. “Good morning, Lane.” The scent of fresh coffee drifts from somewhere nearby, mingling with the faint smell of baby powder from the daycare down the hall.
“Good morning.”
“I’m going to take you around and introduce you to our staff and our current residents. After that, I’m going to leave you in the very capable hands of Maggie to show you the ropes,” she says, leading me down a hallway lined with bulletin boards and hand-painted murals of flowers.
I liked Kathy instantly when I met her for my interview. She’s in her late forties and, like most of the staff here, she is a domestic violence survivor who now helps others. I told her a little of my past, the same version I originally gave Kam. Thankfully, a place like this understands the need for privacy.
The shelter itself is extraordinary. A bright, sunlit daycare for the children. Volunteers teaching classes on budgeting and basic home repairs. A weekly AA meeting for women clawing their way out of addiction. The air hums with quiet hope.
Later, I slide into a seat across from Jameson at the café, the smell of coffee and warm bread curlingaround us. “Sorry I’m late. I was helping out in the daycare and lost track of time.”
His lips tilt in a warm smile. “You don’t have to apologize, Wildflower. It sounds like you are having a great first day.”
I pick up the coffee he has waiting, the warmth seeping through my chilled fingers. “It’s hard seeing the women who’ve just arrived. They still have that empty look in their eyes, but the shelter gives them so many resources. You can see hope coming back to the ones who’ve been there longer. And the babies…” My voice softens, almost a squeal. “They’re so cute.”
His gaze holds mine. “Is that something you want someday, Wildflower? Babies?”
I haven’t thought about it in years. I wanted a big family when I was younger, but once Byron became abusive, that changed. I couldn’t imagine bringing a child into that kind of environment. After I left, I didn’t want a relationship, let alone kids.
But now…
“Yeah. I think I do.”
The corners of his mouth lift, his eyes lighting. “How soon can I put a baby in you?”
I laugh, heat rising in my cheeks. “Slow down. Don’t you think we should get married first?” I ask, half joking, half not.
