Page 72 of Into These Eyes

Really close.

So close that an arm snakes over my waist and a large, warm hand comes to rest over my heart.

“I hear you need to be held,” Gavin whispers close to my ear.

I’m sure my heart swells to the size of Phar Lap’s. Although I’d thought I was done crying, my tear ducts have other ideas.

“Can I slobber on you again?” I murmur.

“I’d love that.”

Turning to face him, I rest my head in the crook of his shoulder and fist my hand in his t-shirt. He pulls me in tight, tangling his fingers in my hair, his lips and nose nuzzling the top of my head. Absorbing nourishment from the touch of our bodies, we remain silent for a long time.

“Thank you,” I finally whisper. “Anika?”

“Yeah. She told me you’d read some of my letters, and that I’d better get in here and cuddle the shit out of you … since it’s my fault you’re upset.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Hmm. You sure about that?”

“Okay, it’s totally your fault. For being … you . Amazing, incredible, wonderful … there aren’t enough words.”

“And that brings you to tears?”

“Not sad tears,” I explain, letting my fist relax so I can feel his heartbeat against my palm. “You just … overwhelm me.”

“Is that another one of your exceptional compliments?”

Lifting my head from his shoulder, I find the shine of his eyes in the dark. “Yes, it absolutely is. And speaking of compliments, why didn’t you tell me you were an artist? From what I saw, you’re brilliant.”

He shakes his head. “I’m no artist. Pathetic as it is, I’ve only ever drawn your eyes.”

“I think you’re the exact opposite of pathetic.” I cup his face, tenderly tracing his ear with my fingertips. Swallowing over the lump rising in my throat, I choke out, “You’re my Shawshank.”

A soft chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Done with the compliments, then?”

“That is a compliment.”

“I don’t know if being referred to as a prison qualifies.”

“I’m not talking about the place , I’m talking about the heart of that story … hope . My beautiful man full of hope.”

He lets out a long breath, and when he draws in another, I feel the hitch through his entire body. “Christ, woman. I don’t know what to say to that,” he murmurs, “so I’m just going to kiss you.”

And he does. One of those loving kisses that promises safety and comfort.

I sink into him, this contact between us becoming familiar, yet no less potent.

Then he slips his knee between my thighs, and I snuggle right up against him, heat flooding my body as reality seeps in.

He’s in my bed, holding me, kissing me and, from the hard length pressing against me, most definitely wanting me.

And I can’t get close enough.

Just as I’m about to slip my hand beneath his t-shirt, he breaks the kiss and presses his lips to my forehead.

“I had an interesting conversation with Anika earlier,” he says, trailing his hand down to my backside and squeezing.

“Oh? When I came into the kitchen and you both stopped talking?”

His lips smile against my skin. “Yeah. Shed a light on why she’s enforced this torturous rule on us. She doesn’t want to hear her mother having sex.”

“I don’t under—”

“You, Jamie. You .” He reaches between us and holds my hand.

“She told me how lucky she was, that not many kids who lose their mothers get an instant replacement. She knows how hard you worked to make her feel special; how much of your life you sacrificed for her. Just like me, she knows how extraordinary you are.”

“She said that?” I choke out.

“She did. She also said your mother may have given birth to her, but you were the one who raised her, who’ll be there on her wedding day, who’ll hold her children as if they’re your grandbabies.”

I squeeze his hand, not sure how much more my heart can take.

“So, if you think about it, her rule’s probably valid. No one wants to hear their mother having sex, right?”

I shake my head. “She wasn’t just being a pain the arse.”

“Oh, I’m sure there’s that, too.”

I huff out a laugh, my throat loosening. “I never realised she thought of me that way.”

“Feel good?”

Knowing Anika appreciates what I did for her, that she feels like she has a mother, creates a deep, warm pool inside me. “I was never sure if I’d screwed everything up when it came to raising her.”

“You didn’t screw up,” he says softly. “She’s her own person. A little spitfire who doesn’t take shit from anyone. She has a light in her that you didn’t try to extinguish, but nurtured. And it’s pretty obvious that made her quite a handful.”

I chuckle and nod, and suddenly, I want to let him in and reveal a little piece of me no one knows.

“After Mum’s funeral, Dad refused to take me to her grave.

So, once a month I’d sneak away with Anika and take the bus there.

I struggled with the idea that it might not be the best place for a kid, but I couldn’t stand the thought of hiding our mother from her.

She was so little, I knew Mum would fade from her memory fast. I felt like she deserved to have both her daughters remember her.

So, I’d put down a blanket on Mum’s grave, and we’d have a picnic.

Each time I took her there, I’d tell her different stories about our mother.

I think those memories helped make Mum a real person for her, because as Anika got older, she’d remind me of some silly thing our mother had done, as if it was her own memory.

When that started happening, it made me feel less alone too. ”

As his fingertips sweep tendrils of hair behind my ear, he stares at me with what I think is adoration.

“J, you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever known. I only wish I knew a billion people so you’d understand how much I mean that. I know, coming from me, it doesn’t hold much weight.”

My heart melts for this man. “It means everything,” I whisper, “ because it’s coming from you.”

He kisses me, soft and sweet, with so much meaning behind it, no words are necessary.

“Come on,” he eventually says. “Let’s get some sleep.”

Turning me away, he spoons me, his hand resting over my heart where I hold it tight. I wiggle around a little to get comfy, then have to wiggle a little more so his erection nestles into the cleavage of my butt cheeks. “Is that going to be there all night?”

“I’d say so, since I’m living one of my favourite fantasies.”

I give my backside another cheeky wiggle. “This is a fantasy?”

“Not that,” he grumbles. “Having a particular woman in bed, spooning her while we fall asleep. That’s what I craved the most, what I thought would forever be a just a dream.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath.

“Don’t say anything. Just know how happy this makes me. How happy you make me.” He kisses my shoulder, then lays his head behind mine. “Goodnight, J.”

Feeling exactly the same way, I smile into the darkness and whisper, “Goodnight, Shawshank.”

Waking on my back, the first thing I notice is an arm angled across my torso and a large, warm hand cupping my breast. I open my eyes and look down, loving the way the strength in that hand and arm seem to own my body, yet at the same time, touch me so tenderly.

Shifting my line of sight to the side, I find him asleep, lying on his stomach, face twisted toward me, lips pressed to my bare shoulder.

With his dishevelled hair and relaxed features, he reminds me of the boy in that courtroom.

Back then, my hatred made me see nothing but a monster.

Now, all I see is a loving, gorgeous man. Inside and out.

Amazing what a different perspective can do.

What the heart can do.

While I gaze at the man I’m madly in love with, I’m overcome with the knowledge that, for the first time in my life, I haven’t slept alone.

Letting my gaze drift lower, I study his broad shoulders and the muscles defined by the t-shirt twisted tight across his back.

I want to roll against him, wake him up, feel his weight on me and make lazy love with him. Unfortunately, it’s not to be. Not yet. Because Anika doesn’t want to hear her mother that way.

Grinning, I slip out from under his arm, grab my robe and head to the kitchen, shocked to find Anika already up and sipping from a mug at the breakfast bar.

“Hey,” I mumble as I make a beeline for the coffee machine. After I get it going, I turn back to my sister. “I can’t believe they assigned you to Gosford. That’s two hours away. I’m hardly ever going to see you.”

Anika waves a dismissive hand at me. “I have a feeling you can keep yourself occupied. Soooo … how was it?”

I grab my coffee and take a sip. “How was what?”

She rolls her eyes as if I’m the stupidest person in the world. “Sleeping with him, of course.”

“Oh. It was nice.”

“Nice?” she barks. “Well, fuck. That’s a letdown.”

I frown. “Why would sleeping beside Gavin be a letdown?”

“ Beside him?”

“What are you on about? You’re the one who sent him in to hold me. And thank you for that, by the way. It was exactly what I needed.”

She comes around the breakfast bar and stands right in front of me, her face a mask of confusion. “Are you saying you didn’t fuck?”

I flinch at how crude that sounds coming from her mouth. When Gavin says it, somehow it has me melting. Then the implication of what she’s saying hits me. “We promised we wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, and last night, when I told him you needed him, I said he could forget about the no-sex rule.”

I blink at her, astonished. Gavin could have had sex with me last night, but chose not to.

He’d done something else instead. Something more profound.

He’d shown me love and support when I was in a vulnerable place.

And even though his body clearly wanted to, he hadn’t taken advantage of my emotional state. He’d soothed it.

Can he get any more perfect?

Anika studies me a moment before rolling her eyes. Again. “So, you’re telling me, I put headphones on and blasted my ears for hours for no reason?”

“He just held me, and we went to sleep.”

“Wow,” she says, shaking her head, a surprisingly wistful look on her face. “Well, he’s either not that into you … or he loves the fuck out of you. No telling which one it is, of course.”

I smile at her. And she grins back, her eyes shining. Taking the mug, she places it on the counter, then hugs me.

“I’m so happy for you,” she says. “He really is a pretty great guy.”

“Yeah,” I murmur. “He really is.”