The Promise of Rainbows (31 page)

“I thought we were speaking of kissing,” she said, smiling at him.

“We were. I imagined kissing you
while
we were watching a movie. Like a teenage date.”

It did feel rather like they were teenagers sometimes. Their hands could only stray so far before they were forced to separate. Stopping the flow of passion between them was becoming increasingly difficult. Susannah had been struggling with her feelings. Was it wrong that she was doubting the wisdom of waiting after all these years? Jake made it
really
hard to want to wait. She knew it was wearing on him. By the end of the night, there was often a downright grimace on his face. Hers too.

“Okay, let’s watch a movie,” she agreed. “What sounds good to you?”

“I’m assuming action movies are out,” he said, earning him a look.

“Why ever would you assume that? Just because I’m a girl, doesn’t mean I don’t like action.” She flushed at the sight of his grin. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“I know,” he said, reaching for her hand. “Come on. We’ll pick out something together.”

They settled on
Casablanca
since it had both action and romance. Susannah had seen it many times, but watching it with Jake was different. After all, he’d actually been in a war. The thought made her worry—what if this set him off?

“Does this movie bother you?” she decided to ask, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

He immediately turned to look at her. “Why would it?”

“Well…it’s about a war.”

His laughter dissolved any tension in her belly. “Trust me, sugar. This movie is the furthest thing from my experience in Iraq.”

“Good,” she said, turning back to the TV.

Humphrey Bogart was wearing his iconic white suit while walking through Rick’s Café, eyeing Ingrid Bergman with mistrust. Susannah tried to focus on the movie, but it was difficult with Jake’s warm body next to hers. His thumb was making circles on the top of her hand, and it was swirling something inside her. Shifting closer, she settled her head against his shoulder. His breathing stilled, and she felt it: the slow, steady beat of desire rising between them.

Helpless to resist, she raised her head. His was already descending to kiss her. Their mouths met, and like usual, they both tried to keep it light. Soon it was impossible to deny the heat. Her mouth opened, and their kisses grew lusher. Wetter. She heard herself moan when he stroked her tongue with his. Rising so she could press both of her hands against his chest, she caressed the hard muscles there. So far, they’d kissed while clothed, but they hadn’t taken it any further. Sure, Jake had run his hands over her body, but she knew he was waiting for a sign from her before pushing that boundary.

Tonight she was going to give him that sign.

When his hands slid up to hold her waist, caressing the indention there, she lifted her blue cashmere sweater. Their gazes met, and his eyes flashed with heat and desire. His hands stroked her bare skin and traveled up her ribcage until he was touching her breasts. His mouth found hers again, leading her in a deep, arousing dance while he showed her how sensitive her breasts actually were. She moaned into his mouth again, and he pulled back slowly.

“I want to take your bra off,” he whispered against her cheek. “Is that okay?”

She nodded and felt his hands come around her back. The material went tight and then came loose. Holding her breath, she waited for his hands to touch her again. He slid them around, igniting all sorts of fires inside her. When he raised the bra slowly above her breasts, still keeping her sweater on, the sensations running through her were so intense she had to close her eyes.

He was watching her, she knew, and she almost felt too vulnerable. His fingers caressed her nipples, rubbing them, sending electricity straight down her belly and beyond. Oh, she liked this. She really liked this.

“Susannah,” he said softly.

She opened her eyes and gazed into the deep cobalt blue of his own.

“I want to take your sweater off,” he said, his jaw tight from tension. “I promise to stop when you tell me. Will you trust me?”

She raised her arms slowly in response. He slid the sweater off, and her bra too, and then settled back to look at her. The fire was warm, so she wasn’t cold, but she found herself shivering all the same. Having him see her like this made her feel vulnerable and hopeful all at once. Trusting him with her body was big for her, and from the delicate way he was touching her, he knew it.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, tracing the mounds. “Everything about you is beautiful. I truly am the luckiest man in the world.”

And then he lowered his mouth to her breasts and gave her a new taste of pleasure. He took his time, heightening her desire. The suction of his mouth became her sole focal point. When his hands gripped her waist to bring her closer to his mouth, she couldn’t contain her moan.

“Oh, Jake,” she breathed out.

He kissed her again, and she put her hand to his chest, wanting to touch him too.

“Would it be all right if you took your shirt off too?” she asked, her words as hesitant as her touch. “Or would that be too much?”

She was always worrying about making him too uncomfortable. She hated that her values made him feel so frustrated.

“Too much and not enough,” he ground, immediately unbuttoning his shirt. He was shrugging out of it when he froze. “Ah…I have a scar. On my shoulder. From combat. It’s why…I don’t take my shirt off in public. I hope it doesn’t bother you. I can keep it on if it does. I know it’s not…pretty.”

He’d been injured? Her breath seemed to freeze in her lungs. “I didn’t know,” she said, tracing his face.

“I’m glad you didn’t find the article they published about it.” His mouth flattened into a straight line. “It may have made events out to be bigger than they were. It’s only a shoulder wound, but it’s still…a sight.”

While she wanted to know more about whatever bit of heroism he was underplaying, that could wait—right now she needed to touch him. Sliding her hands inside his shirt, she eased back the fabric and helped him remove it. His pectoral muscles were beautiful and defined, but he’d been right to warn her. The scar looked to be about four inches long.

“I was hit with a high-powered rifle,” he told her, watching her carefully.

Leaning forward, she kissed the long ridge of that white line dotting his skin.
He could have been killed,
was all she could think.

“Oh, Susannah,” he said, weaving his fingers into her hair with a groan. “I knew you were the sweetest girl in the world, but I never expected you to react like this.”

She kissed the scar again, in benediction, and placed her hand over his warm chest, where his heart was racing. “I’m so glad you came home safe. It was like God was answering my prayers before I even knew to say them.”

He expelled a rush of air from his chest, and she took the harsh sound as her invitation to kiss his wound again.

“I wondered for a long time why I made it back and Booker didn’t, but right now, I think I made it back because I had to meet you.”

She laid her forehead against his chest as those words rolled over her. Then she raised her head and looked him in the eye. “I love you, Jake.”

His face scrunched up, a sure sign he was fighting emotion. “I love you too. I’ve wanted to tell you all week.”

Her lips trembled, and she made herself smile. “I wanted to tell you too, but I thought it was too soon.”

He shook his head. “Love isn’t dictated by time. So let’s agree not to let time slow us down from expressing how we feel.”

“That sounds mighty wise if you ask me,” she said as the energy of their love filled her. She was expanding inside, her heart growing with each beat.

“Tell me again,” he whispered, caressing the line of her cheek with his thumb.

“I love you,” she said, the words strong and true.

“And I love you,” he responded in that same sure tone. “Always and forever.”

This time, when their mouths met, there was something new in their connection. The press of their lips seemed to be a bridge to something else, something permanent, something that could never be taken away.

They slowed down so they could be present for each touch of their lips, each dance of their tongues. His hands caressed her breasts while her fingers lovingly traced his scar, as if to erase all the pain and bad memories it held.

When their passion started to blaze out of control, Jake pressed back and kissed her cheek. She knew it was time to stop—although she wished otherwise. She made her hands fall away from his hot skin. As he shrugged into his shirt, she followed suit, dressing quickly. He didn’t help her. Didn’t touch her again. It was for the best, she knew. Though she wanted nothing more than for him to keep on touching her and her him, but she knew where that would lead.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, rising from the couch.

Every night he took off into the kitchen after they separated. She listened to the water run in the sink and knew he was putting a wet towel to the back of his neck. Usually his nape was damp when he returned to her with two glasses of ice water. He’d tried to joke about the ice before, but it had fallen flat. They were both too hungry for each other to laugh about it.

She waited for him, but he took longer than he had on previous nights. Her heart hurt for it. When he finally returned, there was tension around his eyes even though he gave her a smile.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, something she found herself saying every night. “It’s not fair to you.”

He sat beside her after putting their glasses on the coffee table. While he didn’t pull her close, he did situate his body next to hers.

“I’ve told you not to feel bad. Honey, it’s just the way it is. I would rather be with you than anything else in the world, so don’t give it another thought.”

Not once had he ever tried to push her. Not once had he snarled at her out of frustration.

“Do you want me to go?” she asked quietly, noting that the movie credits were now rolling on the screen. The ending of the movie clearly hadn’t captured their attention.

He took a hold of her hand. “No. Let’s sit by the fire for a spell. Do you want me to sing?”

On a few other nights, he’d brought out his guitar after they’d cut their passion short, and she wondered if playing helped soothe him some. “I love to listen to you sing.”

And so he sang to her with love in his eyes, as her mind ran through all the reasons why loving him with her body couldn’t be a bad thing.

Chapter 23

Jake found himself opening up more in his sessions with Louisa. He was the one who came up with the idea of flying his old Army buddies to town for a spontaneous get-together, but her encouragement was what helped him get there. She was all for the idea—she said something about how connecting his past with his present would be a powerful way to integrate the healing he was undergoing. He didn’t know much about the integration part, but he was feeling happier each day—something he wanted to share with his old friends.

He called each of his friends and started off the same way: “I need y’all to meet my girl.” Each time, he barely managed to finish the sentence before receiving the same response: “When?”

A week later, he picked his buddies up from the airport and drove them out to Redemption Ridge.

Monty was the first to exit the vehicle when he pulled to a stop out front. His shrill whistle made everyone rub their ears. “Holy shit, man. I thought your last place was nice, but these digs…”

“Your whistle still sounds like a missile getting ready to make impact,” Darren said, rubbing his ear. The diamond earring he’d gotten after leaving the service twinkled in the sun. “This place is mighty fine, Jake.”

Monty made the sound again, giving Jake the chills. The reason Monty had started making it as a joke in the first place was to relieve their tension during missile strikes by the enemy.

“That’s not a sound a man can forget,” Jake said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, it’s just as impossible to forget how perfect Monty’s hair always looks,” Randy said with a snort, scanning the grounds with the other guys. “Although it’s long enough to braid now.”

“Bull-sheet,” Monty said, running his hands through his dark curls. “The wife likes it. Trust me, Jake. If Susannah is the one for you, you’ll do anything to make her happy.”

Jake studied his friend some more. Monty walked to the back of the SUV to help Darren with their carry-ons, moving much more gracefully with his prosthetic than the last time Jake had seen him. His friend had been depressed for a long time following his injury, and he’d struggled with feeling like less than a man without his whole leg. Thank God his new wife seemed to have helped him see himself in a new light.

“Susannah
is
the one, I think,” he told them, knowing it was true in his heart.

Darren patted his massive chest like he was imitating a heartbeat. “I’ve never seen you look so dopey-faced, Lassiter,” he joked.

“Dopey?” Randy fired back, wrapping his arm around Jake’s shoulder. “I’d say he looks like Dudley Do-Right.”