Page 14

JENNA

T he night has filled me with joy. The two people I love most in the world are here together with me.

But Mom is tired, so I help her down the narrow hallway to her bedroom, supporting her slight frame against mine.

Her steps are shaky, uncertain, and my heart squeezes at how frail she's become, especially at such a young age, forty-five.

"I can manage from here, sweetheart." Mom pats my arm, but I keep hold until she's settled on the edge of her bed.

"Let me get your night meds." I grab the organizer from her nightstand, counting out the evening pills while she catches her breath. "Did you enjoy dinner?"

A soft smile lights up her tired face. "He's wonderful, Jenna. The way he looks at you, it reminds me of how your father used to look at me." She accepts the pills and water glass from me.

Warmth spreads through my chest. "Really?"

"Mmhmm." She takes her medication and puts on her nightgown. Then she lets me help her lie back against the pillows. "I haven't seen you this happy in years."

I tuck the blanket around her. "I am happy, Mom. Blaise is… he's everything I never knew I needed."

"Better than pining after young Mr. Kean?" Her eyes twinkle with mischief.

Heat floods my cheeks. "Mom!"

"A mother notices these things." She catches my hand, squeezing with what little strength she has left. "But Blaise sees you. The real you. That's worth more than any crush."

I lean down to kiss her forehead. "Get some rest.”

Mom's approval means everything to me. After all we've been through together, knowing she sees the same goodness in Blaise that I do makes this feeling even more special.

Back in the living room, Blaise sprawls on our worn couch, his long legs stretched out. I curl up next to him, fitting perfectly against his side. His arm wraps around me, pulling me closer.

"Your mom okay?” he asks.

“Yep. She sleeps pretty well, all things considered.”

"You take such good care of her."

"She's all I have." I trace patterns on his chest. "Well, had. Now there's you too."

He stiffens for a moment, then relaxes. "Lucky me."

His reaction unsettles me a little bit. Is he having second thoughts? I tilt my face up to his. "I mean it. These past few weeks with you… I've never felt like this before."

He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m glad. You and your mom seem to be doing alright. What happened to your dad again?”

"I was just a baby when he died, but he worked here like Mom did." I snuggle closer.

“So he worked for the Keans?”

“No, the Ifrinns. Mom always says he was the bravest man she knew. Speaking of bravery…" I poke his ribs. "My hero, helping put out that fire the other night."

He catches my hand, bringing it to his lips. "Just doing my job."

"Well, your job got you a promotion. Soon, you'll be running the whole security team."

"Planning my career path already?" His eyes crinkle with amusement.

"Maybe." I grin up at him. "Someone has to look out for your future."

"And that someone is you?"

"Obviously. I make excellent life choices."

His laugh rumbles through his chest, and it soothes the concern I had earlier. "Like letting a guard sweet talk you into a picnic?"

I feel the heat of a blush on my cheeks. “Yes.”

Blaise shifts. "What were the Ifrinns like?"

I lift my head, studying his face. "You ask a lot about them. Why so curious?"

"Just trying to understand where you come from." His green eyes lock with mine. "The history of this place, now that I’m moving up."

I trace the line of his jaw. "Most people don't know there was another family before the Keans."

He tenses, almost imperceptibly. "That’s sort of sad. An entire family forgotten?”

He’s right. It is sad. “Not by us. The Keans rebuilt the home. Mom worked in the garden just as Mrs. Ifrinn liked until she got too ill.”

“You knew them too?”

“A little. Mom and I lived here then, just like now. The Ifrinns were good people. Kind. Like the Keans."

"Were you close with them?"

My brow furrows, wondering why he has such an interest in the Ifrinns. "Why does it matter?"

"It doesn't. I just…" He pauses. "You're important to me. I want to know everything. If they’re mostly forgotten, it sounds like they didn’t leave much of a legacy. You can tell me the truth. Did you not like them?"

Something in his tone catches my attention. There's an edge there, hidden beneath the warmth. Like he's searching for specific answers but won't ask the questions.

“Like I said, I was a kid. I didn’t know them well, but my impression of them was that they were nice.”

“Hmm.”

I get the feeling he doesn’t believe me. “I know the Keans better. They’ve been so wonderful to everyone. They took over after that horrible tragedy with such grace. Ronan's father made sure everyone kept their jobs, took care of the staff's families."

His jaw clenches. He must feel the same annoyance that someone would be after such an upstanding family.

"And now they're under attack.” I shake my head.

“I don’t think that was a real attack. I think someone is just fucking with them.”

I stare at him wide-eyed. “Really?”

He nods. “That was designed to make a lot of noise and smoke, but that’s about it.”

“Still, who would do that? After everything the Keans have done for this community.”

He strokes my hair. "Shh. The Keans are well-protected. Especially now."

I take in the man I love and admire. "Thanks to you. You're their hero."

“You give me more credit than I deserve.”

“Modest too.” I give him a quick kiss. "What about your family? You've never mentioned them."

He tenses again. "Not much to tell. Pretty standard childhood."

"Standard how?" I shift to face him better. "Where did you grow up?”

He shrugs. "I told you before. Boston, for the most part.”

I bite my lip, sensing his withdrawal. "And your parents?"

"Gone."

"I'm sorry." I squeeze his hand.

"It’s been awhile now." His jaw tightens. "Listen, it's getting late. I should head out before your mom needs anything."

"You don't have to go." I press closer, trying to recapture the intimacy from earlier. "Stay. Talk to me."

"Nothing interesting to share." He kisses my temple, but it feels distant. "Some stories aren't worth telling."

The warmth from dinner fades, replaced by a chill I can't explain. Every attempt to know him better hits a wall. He knows everything about my life, my mom, my work, my dreams. But his past remains a mystery, locked away where I can't reach.

"Everyone's story is worth telling," I whisper against his chest.

His arms tighten around me for a moment. "Not mine."

Blaise's silence wraps around us like a heavy blanket. I trace the ink visible at his collar, wanting to bridge this sudden distance between us. His skin burns hot beneath my fingertips.

"Hey." I tilt my face up, meeting those mesmerizing green eyes. "You don't have to tell me everything. Just… don't shut me out."

His breath catches. Something dark and unreadable flashes across his face before he captures my lips with his. The kiss starts gentle, almost hesitant, but quickly blazes into something more. My fingers curl into his shirt as he pulls me closer, practically into his lap.

My heart pounds against my ribs. Every brush of his lips, every stroke of his hands sets my skin on fire. I've never felt anything like this, an all-consuming need that makes me forget everything else. The questions, the mysteries, they all fade away under the heat of his touch.

"Jenna," he breathes against my mouth, and my name sounds like a prayer and a curse wrapped into one.

I press closer, wanting to dissolve into him completely. His fingers tangle in my hair, tilting my head back as his lips trail down my neck. A soft moan escapes me. The intensity of my feelings for him overwhelms me. I feel like I won’t be able to breathe without him.

His hands slide down my back, leaving trails of fire in their wake. I arch into him, lost in the storm of sensation and emotion. Nothing has ever felt this right, this perfect.

When he pulls back, I know he’s going to try and leave, but I’m not ready. “Come with me.” I stand and reach for his hand. I guide Blaise down to my bedroom.

"Your mom…" he breathes against my ear.

"She's asleep. Her meds knock her out." I twist the doorknob, tugging him inside.

Blaise pushes the door shut and pulls me against him. His mouth claims mine, hungry and demanding. My fingers fumble with his shirt buttons while his hands slide under my top, skimming bare skin.

“So you liked what happened on the picnic,” he murmurs against my neck.

“Yes. I want this. Want you."

His thumbs trace circles on my hips. "But we don't have to…”

Does he not want to? “I know I’m not as pretty?—”

“You can shut the fuck up about that.” His hands cup my cheeks.

“You’re beautiful, Jenna. Beautiful and sexy.

” He kisses me again, and I press against him, feeling the hard length of his erection.

He groans low in his chest, and suddenly, I'm airborne, tossed on the bed.

He quickly follows, tugging his clothes off quickly and then lying over me.

“Do you think you can do this without screaming my name when I make you come and waking up your mother?”

A laugh bubbles up in my chest. "I think I can manage.” I arch a brow. “How about you?”

“I guess we’ll find out.” His eyes glitter in the darkness as he hovers over me.

My hands slide up his chest, feeling his heart thundering beneath my palms. This moment feels stolen, secret, special. Just ours.

Blaise's lips trace a path down my neck, his touch feather-light. Every brush sends sparks through my body. I bite my lip to keep quiet when his hands slide under my shirt, finding my sensitive nipples, squeezing, rubbing until I’m writhing and moaning beneath him.

"Shh," he whispers, and I can feel his smile against my skin. His weight presses me into the mattress, grounding me as my head spins with desire.

I arch into him, gasping softly as his hands wander. He swallows my sounds with kisses. The thrill of secrecy, of potentially being caught, adds an edge to every touch. My nails dig into his shoulders when he hits a particularly sensitive spot.

"Easy, love," he breathes against my ear. "Don't want to wake anyone."

The reminder only makes everything feel more illicit, more intense. I pull him closer, desperate for more contact.

He trails kisses down my neck and lower. His lips wrap around my nipple and suck.

“Oh, God.” I press my hand over my mouth as sensation shoots straight to my core.

I give a little whimper when he stops and continues down, cascading kisses along my stomach and lower. He pushes my thighs open, and I wonder what he’s doing.

He slides his hands under my backside, then looks up at me from between my thighs. “Hold on, sweetheart.”

I realize what he’s about to do, and I’m shocked and excited and embarrassed all at once. “Blaise.”

He gives me a sexy, cocky smile and dips his head. His tongue slides between my folds and oh… my… God. One hand fists in the sheets while the other covers my mouth as the most delicious and torturous sensations pulse through my body.

His mouth is wet and warm as he licks and sucks until I’m a whimpering mess. I feel like every neuron is vibrating, coiling tighter and tighter until my world comes apart. Pleasure floods my body and it’s so, so good.

I feel boneless as Blaise kisses his way back up my body. “Ready for more?”

More? He sinks into me, and I gasp at the invasion and am shocked how my body once again pulses with energy around him. As he moves, I hold on to him, opening myself to him. Not just my body but my heart, my entire soul.

Emotion and sensation mix and I know, without a doubt, we’re meant to be together. Two parts of a whole. Forever.