I closed my eyes, blindly seeking the featherlight touch. “I’ll go up with Cam as planned. He leaves on Christmas Eve or the day before.”
“Christmas is a big deal at my house too.” His finger dipped, following the line of the sheet. “Jack still believes in Santa, so I need to be there with him in the morning, but I want to see you. Maybe you can spend Christmas Eve with me and then I can come up to your house on Christmas? I’d drive you up later that morning. I mean, if you want me there, that is and your parents are cool with it.”
My eyes popped open. “I’d love for you to come up.” A big, goofy smile crossed my face at the thought of spending Christmas Eve with his family and then Christmas night with mine. “But I don’t want you to make an unnecessary trip.”
“You can always stay the night with me.” He tugged the sheet down, exposing the length of me. “If that’s cool with your parents and you.”
“It’s cool with me and they’ll be okay with it because it’s what I want.” I bit my cheek as his gaze left mine and traveled down. A muscle flexed in his jaw. “Do you think your mom and dad will be okay with it?”
“Of course.” He sounded distracted.
“It’s our first.” I giggled, flushing as I let my head fall back against the pillow. “That sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”
“It doesn’t.” He rolled on top of me, and I felt his hardness nudging me as he settled between my thighs. “And it won’t be our last.”
My breath caught as I arched, clutching his hair. “This or spending Christmas together?”
He chuckled as he reached between us, wrapping his hand around his thick base. “Both.”
“Oh.” My ability to form comprehensive sentences had flown out the window. He slid into me in one deep roll of his hips. “Jase.”
He groaned as he gathered me close and then shifted onto his back, staying inside me. Astride him, I braced myself with my hands flat against his chest. “Yes?” he said, grinning.
“You are so bad.”
His hands circled my hips. “And you haven’t seen anything yet.”
Chapter Thirty-two
Tiny flakes of snow had begun to fall the moment we’d left Shepherdstown. It was in the late afternoon, and the chilly air seemed to seep through every crevice in Jase’s Jeep and no matter how high he had the heater cranked, it didn’t get warm enough.
Jase held my hand as we drove in silence. My knuckles were still swollen from when I hit Erik, but the rest of the scrapes and bruises had healed for the most part.
The first couple of nights after Erik had snapped had been the hardest. Thank God Jase had attached himself to my hip, being there when I’d awoken from a nightmare and staying up when I was too antsy to fall back asleep. He’d put those wee hours in the middle of the night to good use, distracting me from the dark memories that lingered from those hours spent with Erik.
I glanced over at him, and my heart did a little flip. He loved me. He was in love with me. My brain still whirled with all the possibilities of what that meant in the long term for us.
Squeezing his hand, I smiled reassuringly when he glanced over. Worry deepened his eyes to a steel gray. When he’d woken up this morning and asked if I’d do this with him before we went over to his parents for Christmas Eve, I’d been shocked but glad that he was taking such a huge step.
“You okay?” I asked.
Locks of brown hair flipped out from the gray knit toboggan. “It feels weird that you’re the one asking me that.”
“True.” From the knee injury to Debbie’s death and Erik’s breakdown, all his concern had been focused on me. “But I’m asking you.”
“I’m . . . I don’t know.” He paused as he turned right, cutting through a gas station. “I’m sad. Confused. Weirdly happy, like I’m proud of myself, and that sounds stupid.”
“It’s not stupid. You should be proud of yourself.”
A quick smile appeared and then vanished. “I guess I’m just feeling everything.”
Which was understandable. It had been years since Kari’s death, but this was a first for him. I squeezed his hand again.
By the time we arrived at the cemetery, a light dusting of snow blanketed the grounds. Based on his parents’ directions, he turned right into the cemetery and followed the curve until the large, bare oak tree came into view.
Kari’s gravesite would be near the tree—five gravesides over to be exact.
He parked on the shoulder. Only then did he pull his hand free to turn off the engine, but he made no move to exit the vehicle. Instead, he stared over, toward the tree. Branches swayed in the gentle wind.
A knot formed in my chest. “You really ready to do this? Because we can do it another time.”