Page 25

CHAPTER 24

Morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and golden, stretching across the rumpled sheets. Cammie was still asleep beside him, her breathing slow, steady, peaceful. One hand curled near her face, the other tucked beneath his arm like she belonged there—like she knew it.

Jeeves lay still, not wanting to wake her, not wanting to move and break the fragile perfection of this moment. His eyes traced the slope of her shoulder, the curve of her jaw, the way her hair spilled like ink across his pillow. It felt surreal—like something he’d imagined on the darkest nights but never believed he’d actually have.

His gaze drifted to the ceiling, its faded paint barely registering as his thoughts were far from the room. They were with her—still tangled in the way her voice had sounded the night before, raw and soft and brave when she’d whispered, “I love you.”

Those three words. No hesitation. No pretense. Just truth.

“I love you.”

He’d said it back with the weight of everything he was. The memory of it was still echoing in his chest, settling in a place that had been hollow for too damn long.

He turned his head slightly to look at her. She slept facing him, her cheek nestled into the pillow, lips parted just slightly. There was a kind of peace in her he still didn’t understand—how she could sleep so easily next to someone like him. How she could love someone who’d spent most of his life navigating shadows.

He’d never believed love was something he’d be capable of. Not really. He was a man forged in dark corners of the world, carved into shape by grief, guilt, violence, and sacrifice. He had seen too much. Done too much. And for a long time, he wore that like a shield—proof that he was safer alone.

But then she’d walked into his life—full of grace and quiet strength and this blinding, relentless light that chipped away at his armor without even trying. She didn’t demand pieces of him, didn’t try to fix what was broken. She just saw him. And still chose to stay.

She’d looked at him like he was worth loving.

And that changed everything.

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch careful, tender. How did she do it? How did she make him feel more like a man than a weapon?

He didn’t have all the answers yet. But as her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled at him—sleepy, peaceful, his—he knew one thing with absolute clarity.

She was the light that had found him in the dark.

And he would never let go of her.

And as he watched her slowly wake, he knew with a certainty that startled him—he’d do anything to protect this. To protect her. Not because she needed it, but because he did.

Because loving her wasn’t the weakness he’d once feared.

It was the strength he never knew he had.

Unwilling to wait until she was fully awake, he gently pushed her to her back and climbed over her. Their mouths merged, tongues tangling just for the pleasure of it. He reached for the condom that still sat on the bedside table, tore it open with his teeth as she nipped at the sensitive skin of his neck. With trembling hands, he rolled the protection on then was inside her, where he belonged. Where he never wanted to leave.

She opened for him. Wrapping her legs around his hips, her heels hooked behind him. His need took control. He wasn’t gentle. He was fierce. And she met him thrust for powerful thrust.

Her walls pulsed around him, and she came with a rush. He didn’t stop. He pushed through her release and brought her to another one. She was mindless. Screaming his name. Moaning her pleasure. And he reveled in every sound. Every quiver. Every surrender she gave to him.

He couldn’t stop the inevitable. He thrust deep and emptied himself inside of her, words of love falling from his lips.

If he could wake up every morning just like this, he’d be content . . . forever.