Page 109 of Beautifully Messy
“James,” I start, but his head dips, and a strangled noise escapes me as his nose brushes the crook of my neck, his breath warm against my skin, sending a shudder through me. He tentatively presses his lips to my skin. A deep groan rumbles from his chest, reverberating through my entire body.
“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out,” spills out of me. “I was worried what Mason would do if he learned of this. I didn’t want to give him anything more to holdup the divorce or try to change our custody agreement. The family doesn’t know about any of it. Only Jules.”
James inhales deeply and exhales even slower. He cups my face in his palm. And for the first time since I got that text from him, I take a long, filling breath.
“So you came here because Gary needed help?” I ask, trying to understand.
“That was my way in. My mom told me you were spending Christmas here. I had a suite reserved at the resort before Gary called me. I was coming regardless. I was tired of waiting for your call.” He smiles slyly and kisses my temple. “I’m sorry if you weren’t ready. I know this makes me a selfish prick showing up here.”
“Don’t. I needed the push. I can’t let him dictate my life forever.” I lift a hand to cup his face, my fingers brushing over the rough scrape of stubble. “And not calling or the time I asked for, it was never about you. You’ve always given me everything—patience, understanding, space. I… I want to be with you, James.”
His face glistens with tears that catch the afternoon light, turning gold against his skin. The sight squeezes something in my chest. He’s seen me cry and break more times than I can count, but now this strong, sure man is allowing himself to be vulnerable with me. I wipe a tear from the corner of his eye and breathe in his familiar scent.
“I’m sorry, I just—” He sniffles. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear those words again.”
“So does that mean you also want to be with me?”
“Yes. God. Yes.” His words are breathless, edged in desperation.
He slides a hand into my hair at the base of my neck and tips my head back, brushing his lips against mine. For a heartbeat, there is only the warmth of his mouth, the press of his body as our lips meet, soft and tentative at first. A deep rumble emanates from his chest, and my nails rake against his scalp. I tilt my head and dive in deeper, touching my tongue to his. Gooseflesh erupts over my skin, and I revel in his touch, his lips. The spark that’s always been there, burning between us from day one, ignites my blood.
Our kisses are languid—bitter coffee on my lips and the aching promise of something more. No teeth clash, neither of us fumble. It’s as natural as everything else between us. And we stay there, learning each other’s mouths, the feel of ourbodies. I moan, unable to help myself, and it seems to be his undoing. His fingers twist tendrils of my hair between his fingers, angling my head so he can better taste me.
“Mama!” The monitor crackles to life.
I pull away, panting and trying to regain control. James watches me, breathing hard, eyes glazed.
“Okay.” I force myself to step back, the air still crackling with heat. “Let me go get Anna, and we can finish talking about what’s next.”
With my heart hammering against my ribs, I head upstairs. I know what I need to do. I’ve spent too long hesitating at the edge of happiness. I won’t make that mistake again.
***
BythetimeAnnaand I make our way downstairs, the rich aroma of something savory greets us. James stands at the stove, stirring a pot, his broad shoulders relaxed.
An avalanche of affection rolls through me. In mere moments I expect it to knock me on my ass with its totality. I love this man, all of him: the fierce and the gentle, the challenger and the soft landing. The same way he loves all of me. He isn’t afraid when I push back. He never flinches at the sharp parts of me or tries to mold me into someone I’m not.
Anna doesn’t hesitate. She runs straight to him, her giggles ringing as she throws her little arms around his legs. He scoops her up, spins her once, and settles her on his hip, one arm holding her steady while the other stirs whatever smells so delicious.
“I’ve got mixed news,” he says, pausing, his attention caught by my exposed shoulder where the sweater has slipped.
I swallow, forcing a breath so deep it scrapes the bottom of my feet.
“The good news,” he continues, “is that outside is a winter wonderland, and we’re building a snowman tomorrow.” His lips quirk up, tickling Anna. But hiseyes remain steady on mine, gauging my reaction. “I heard from Gary. Their flight into Burlington was canceled. They asked me to stay until they get back. They’ll text Ivy to let her know. She’s supposed to arrive tomorrow.” He lets that sit, then quietly asks, “Do you know if anyone else is arriving tonight?”
I let out a long exhale, looking around the quiet cabin, the fire crackling in the hearth, the snow falling outside, and Anna giggling in his arms. The world has conspired to strip everything away, to leave this.
Us.
It’s me, James, and Anna.
I watch the snow piling high on the deck, silently thanking the universe for giving us this moment in time—a chance to get it right.
“Maybe Jules and Tom. But with the snow, I’d bet they’ll wait.” I meet his eyes, letting him see that the idea of being alone doesn’t scare me in the slightest. “What are you making?”
His mouth curls at the edges, pleased by my reaction. “I know how much Anna loves spaghetti. So I’m making a Bolognese sauce and fresh pasta. Want to help me?”
“You’re making it from scratch?” I raise a brow, eyeing the flour and eggs on the counter.
