The Son & His Hope (The Ribbon Duet 3) - Page 98

I didn’t need anything more.

All I needed was this very moment where Jacob kept me prisoner with my necklace and the forest cradled us from civilisation.

My heart pounded as Jacob licked his lower lip.

“You are the simplest, most sweetest person I’ve ever met,” he whispered. “You are… fascination and fearlessness all wrapped up in gratitude.”

I swallowed hard as his body brushed against mine.

“If you were anything like your mother, Hope Jacinta Murphy, then I would still be afraid to try. Too shit terrified to be your friend. You don’t love possessions or money or superficial things. What you love is life. You love the one thing that can be taken away so damn easily, and that makes you the bravest person I know.”

I wanted to reply.

To burst into tears.

My chest swelled with so, so much emotion. So many feelings that had no words or descriptions. Jacob had stripped me bare and kept me safe all at the same time, and I no longer just loved him.

I needed him.

I needed him to be free like me.

His head bowed, and the faintest graze of his nose on mine zigzagged a lightning bolt deep into my belly. His grip on the chain around my throat tightened, pulling me closer against him.

I swayed into him, parting my lips, offering up everything.

And I waited.

I waited and prayed and got on my knees for him to accept what I was ready to give him, but he just sighed torturedly, smiled tormentedly, and pulled away. Letting my locket go, he gave me a look born from heartache and hope.

Hope.

Like me.

There was hope he might one day love me…even if it was the tiniest speck.

But even if he could…his heartache would rule him forever.

“Sorry.” He cleared his throat from sand and ash and turned away.

* * * * *

“You did well today,” Jacob said, breaking the silence that’d kept us company along with the crackling fire, occasional scurry of something furry in the bushes, and an owl hoot or two.

“Thanks. It was fun.” I snuggled deeper into the sleeping bags we’d spread on the yoga mats close, but not too close, to the fire.

All day, I’d locked down the desire he’d invoked by clutching my locket. I kept my eyes far from his, threw myself into camp tasks, and pretended I wasn’t a shaking mess every time he came near.

Even the chore of gathering firewood with him sent goosebumps decorating me. A guided tour of this piece of paradise made my stomach clench. A simple dinner of packet pasta and squished blueberry muffins made my heart swoon at the domesticated bliss.

I fell into the daydream that we were a couple, and the tent we set up didn’t require the two separate nests on either side of the central pod.

That we’d sleep in one.

Together.

Touching.

Kissing.

Confessing that this friendship wasn’t enough anymore…for either of us.

But that hallucination was dashed as Jacob finished erecting the tent with ease and practice, then stepped inside the three-room shelter. The air changed, his back stiffened, and his attention locked on the right wing as if it were a portal to hell.

He froze in the gathering twilight, seeing monsters I couldn’t imagine.

Ice slithered down my spine.

Had this tent belonged to his parents’? It was too big for a solitary traveller, but it was well used.

Used by a family perhaps.

A trio who’d become a duo.

I backed up, climbing over the zipper door, leaving Jacob to his ghosts and horrors.

Whatever had happened in that tent had irrevocably changed him, but I didn’t know how.

Curiosity chewed at me, although our tentative connection whispered I had no right to ask.

I didn’t say a word when Jacob decided to put our mats and sleeping bags by the fire instead of in the tent, and we skirted the topic of death with fire-roasted marshmallows until my fingers were sticky and sugar dusted my lips.

Jacob interrupted my thoughts. “Reckon you could survive a night out here on your own?”

His voice, rough and gravelly at this time of night, threatened to tear my secret from my chest.

I love you.

Shaking my head clear, I clutched my hands together for support. “Not without someone preparing a backpack for me with everything I need.”

He laughed quietly, his eyes mirroring burning flames.

Why did he have to be so handsome? So brilliant? So wild?

My heart physically hurt. It wrapped itself up in a blanket of thorns, bleeding with need just to tell him.

To say thank you.

I love you.

Don’t be afraid.

Ugh.

I glared at the sky where gleaming stars mocked me from above.

“You adapted well enough.”

“I had a good teacher.”

He cleared his throat. “You’re a good student.”

My body locked down, the sleeping bag unable to eradicate the chill in my bones for denying what I most needed.

I needed his arms around me.

His lips on mine.

Get a grip, Hope.

You are his friend.

F.r.i.e.n.d.

Friend.

“It’s so quiet out here.” My tone was waspish and loud as if the wooded serenity was an inconvenience and not a privilege.

Tags: Pepper Winters The Ribbon Duet Romance
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