Page 11 of Bursting With Love
“Jack,” she whispered. She reached up to touch his cheek, and he held tightly to her arms, forcing them back down. “It’s okay,” she said.
“No, it’s not okay.” He needed to ease the guilt of wanting Savannah.
“We all have hurt in our lives, Jack,” she said.
He felt her muscles flex beneath his palms as she reached her fingertips up and touched his arm, so tender and loving, even while he had her arms confined against her will.
“You don’t know about hurt like I do,” he said.
“Maybe not like you do, but I do know how much it hurts to lose someone you love and how, no matter what you do, you can’t let that love go. I know that it eats you up inside, and you feel like the person’s right there with you but you just can’t reach them,” she said.
He pushed away. “How? Wha—”
Savannah shrugged. “I’ve watched my father grieve for my mother my whole life, and I’ve grieved for her, too,” she admitted.
Jack let out an angry breath and growled, “You know what you saw, not what he felt.”
THE HURT AND anger in Jack’s voice sliced through Savannah’s heart like a knife. Her father was an expert at masking the pain of missing her mother, but the longing was evident in everything he did and said. Jack’s pain was raw, visceral, as if his wife’s death left a gaping wound and every breath carried a painful reminder that she was gone. She’d felt how his body had gone rigid when they’d kissed, as if he were scared of the kiss itself, and how his rock-hard body had competing impulses. There was no denying his instant arousal when their hips had come together.
“Your version of hurt is stubbing your toe on the streets of Manhattan,” he said.
Savannah narrowed her eyes. “You can be a real bastard, you know that? Watching my father grieve—and never knowing my mother—sucked ass. And pain comes in all forms”—like finding your boyfriend in bed with another woman or having to prove yourself every day in a chauvinistic industry—“none of which are fun.” She took a step forward and looked up at him. The bottom of his chin was peppered with stubble except for an area about an inch long and a quarter inch wide, where a thin white scar had laid claim. Even though she wanted to call him out for acting like an asshole, her heart wondered if it was his pain speaking. She wanted to touch that scar, heal the pain, and reveal the real Jack Remington. Instead, she said, “Thank you for saving me from the bobcat.”
Savannah focused on the ground before her as she made her way back to the camp—her need to pee forgotten—Jack’s kiss still fresh on her lips, his harsh words battling with the pain she’d seen in his eyes, and her confused heart thundering someplace in between.
Chapter Five
SATURDAY MORNING, AIDEN was up with the sun, chattering in his high-pitched voice. Savannah lay in her tent, thinking about the evening before and wishing she could transport home like they could on Star Trek. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. No matter how much she loathed the idea of pretending nothing had happened, or admitting that it had, she had to join the group and face Jack. She touched her lips, remembering the way her body shivered while he kissed her—partly from the fear of seeing the bobcat, but mostly from how good it felt to be wrapped in his big, strong arms with his hot mouth devouring hers. Stop it. No men, remember? She couldn’t even stick to her resolutions for forty-eight hours. That had to be some sort of a record.
She still had to pee, too, which meant that not only would she have to face Jack, but she’d have to go back in the woods alone and possibly run into the bobcat again. Last night her fear had morphed into some sort of sexual hunger, and she’d been so wrapped up in their kiss that she’d forgotten to ask him if that bobcat might come back. One thing is for sure. No more peeing in the woods alone at night. She gathered her confidence, changed her clothes, and stepped out of her tent.
“Savannah, I waked up early!” Aiden shouted.
Savannah winced. She needed an announcement about her whereabouts like she needed a hole in her head. One quick scan of the site told her that Jack was not around.
“Good morning, Aiden. How’d you sleep?” she asked.
It always amazed her how much energy children had in the mornings.
“Good. We heard a big cat last night and I was scared, but Dad said it was just a bobcat, and I’m not afraid of bobcats. It’s not like they’re lions or tigers. My dad could scare away a bobcat. Mom told me all about them this m—”
