finding Reese.: a SAFELIGHT novel vol.2 (SAFELIGHT Series) Page 14

  “Are you okay with this? With me leaving? Be honest.”

  I look into his eyes in the mirror and brush my fingers over his tight hold.

  “I’ll be fine, Stud. I have so much to do, I doubt I’ll miss you,” I reply with a wink.

  Liar. You big fat liar. The cold hard truth is I’m not fine, but I can’t tell him that because he will cancel his assignment in a heartbeat. While I’d love to spend my days, nights every waking moment beside him, I need him to let him go so our relationship has a chance to grow. Sometimes we make sacrifices for the greater good, and it’s in those sacrifices we show what we’re made of and what we’re capable of achieving.

  I can’t tell if he’s aware of my lies, and if he is, he says nothing. Our eyes stay put in the mirror, a mess-load of unsaid words floating between us. Will I miss Stryder Martynus? Of-fucking-course. It will take some getting used to falling asleep at night without his arms holding me, or his whispered words of affection that make my heart and soul fly when my eyes flutter open in the mornings. It will be tough sitting at the dining table without his hand brushing against my leg, or our mutual feeding routines reminiscent of our times in Whistler. What I’ll miss the most is the requited love and undeniable connection we share.

  Stryder rests his chin against my shoulder and pouts. “You won’t miss me? Ouch.” I cradle my head against his and nestle into his warmth. He kisses the tender spot beneath my ear and breathes, “You can say you won’t miss me all you want, but this body of yours knows mine, and it will crave my touch every single day.”

  I scoff at his words, but my heart thrills at the confidence behind them. He’s right in more ways than one. I will miss him, and my body will miss him more. Turning to face him, I let my thumb brush the soft skin of his lips. Stryder mumbles something unintelligible, and judging by the pained groan he lets out, I know it has to do with my affections.

  “Oh, Stud. Your mornings will be the hardest. Pun intended,” I tease with a wink.

  Stryder chuckles and shakes his head at my words. “Oh, Catalina . . . you and that mouth. I’ll miss all of you, from your sass to your body, and everything in between.”

  He opens the bathrobe to expose my neck, his gaze falling on the star pendant hovering above the slope of my breasts. One of his fingers lifts the pendant to his lips and kisses it. “You are my North Star, Catalina. God, I’m going to miss you.”

  I clear my throat and force a smile. He needs to hear reassurances which will hold him over while he’s away; while Stryder is sweet and kind, he’s also filled with insecurities just like me. I have to tell him something that will ease his mind allowing chance, destiny, fate, or whatever the hell you call it to take the lead.

  “When you get back I want us to go away, just you and me, to somewhere beautiful and far away. Is that something you’d like to do with me?” I ask with an awkward smile. Stryder lets out a huff and brushes his knuckles against my cheekbone.

  “I thought you’d never ask, Catalina. I’d love to,” he replies, eyes bright. “Tell you what. There’s this place in the Caribbean I think you’d like a lot. I’ll take care of all the details. “I can tell he’s excited, and right now I’m thankful I let my heart do all the talking. He stands tall; the confident man I’ve grown to love is back with that sensual, passionate look on his face. “I can’t wait to have you all to myself. Just us on a private beach with the warm sand beneath our toes, and the pale of the moonlight reflected on your skin . . .” he finishes with a hum.

  I push him away softly, and giggle when he closes his eyes and licks his lips. This man, I swear. He has the innate ability to create the most delicious of scenarios in my head. Sometimes distractions prove to be useful most especially when there are goodbyes involved.

  “Come on, handsome. I need to get dressed so we can be on our way.” My voice cracks at the last word, and Stryder lets out a ragged sigh. Just when I think he’s letting me go, his strong arms hug me again.

  It’s hard to explain how this feels, but bittersweet comes close. Our hearts beat frantically against each other’s chests; not driven by desire, but by the innate awareness where we belong. This is how we should always be, standing together and braving the uncertainties that life throws our way. Love, true love, truly changes you. It’s not just an intense feeling or a sense of attachment; it goes far beyond that. Real love is not only sharing a connection with someone or having remarkable sex don’t get me wrong, though, we enjoy those things too. Finding love is a game-changer.

  We understand each other, and we’re considerate of our needs, not only by our actions, but by the way they nurture our relationship. I’ve been in love once before, and I know it grows and evolves with time, but like a plant it can also wither away. I don’t want that to happen to us. I love Stryder with all of my being, and I’ll be damned if I let this die. In the past it was easy to resort to self-sabotage, but this love has changed my way of thinking, and this love will have a happy ending. I’ll be damn sure of it.

  “Hey, where’d you go?” Stryder mumbles into my ear, interrupting my thoughts. I dry my tears against his sweater and melt against the hardness of his chest and strength of his arms. He squeezes me tightly. “I love you.”

  Three words: subject, verb, and object. Only eight letters, yet they yield the power to make my heart sink to the pit of my stomach, and ricochet back to its rightful place.

  “I’m right here. I was thinking . . . that’s all. I love you too.”

  Stryder breaks our hug and holds my face with his hands. Tilting it, he massages my cheeks with his thumbs. “I know you’re not okay with this, and you’re trying damn hard to hide it. I know because I’m right there with you, hiding how I truly feel. Watching you pretend to be indifferent when you’re anything but kills me. I can see it in your eyes. Our careers bind us, and my client is hell-bent on working only with me. Plus, there are things I have to do and I know going away is for the best. Cat, you’ll be on my damn mind every day, from the moment I wake up until I pass out at night.

  “I can’t stop thinking of you because you’re the blood that runs through my veins, and life isn’t life without you in it. You better wait for me because at the end of the day, baby, you own me.” Using one hand, he gestures at himself, from his head all the way down to his shoes. Stryder then rests both of his hands over his heart, and confidently says, “This is all yours, Catalina.”

  My heart somersaults at his words, and the sob I’ve been holding back unravels, tears streaming past my cheeks. “I’m yours too, Stryder. I just- I didn’t want to worry you with my emotional bullshit, that’s all.” I don’t know why, but hearing myself say that makes me laugh. “See? I’m a basket-case,” I declare amidst giggles.

  There we stand in the middle of the bathroom laughing and crying and wiping our eyes, enjoying these last moments with no concern for the time. I reach for his chest and take hold of his hands, and intertwine them with mine. We bow slightly toward each other as our lips meet for a sweet kiss that tastes like ‘see you later.’

  As if on cue, Jackson knocks on the door, calling our names, and we reply in unison, “Come in!” We look at each other and laugh while Jackson parades into the bathroom with an ear-splitting grin on his face.

  “Well, aren’t you two just fucking adorable standing there holding hands? Are you ready to go? We have to get going if we want to make it to the airport on time,” Jackson says, looking at his wristwatch−his old-self back, and in rare form.

  “Yeah, we are, sort of . . .” Stryder replies and then turns to face me. “I’ll leave you to get dressed.” He kisses the tip of my nose and then leaves the bathroom to collect his luggage. Jackson walks towards me with a half-smile, his eyes focused on mine. I take a deep breath and exhale shakily.

  “You’re going to be just fine, Pardo. Before you know it, he’ll be back,” he says matter-of-factly.

  I return his smile and nod. “I know . . . It’s just hard.”

  In his best Michael Scott im
pression, he replies grinning, “That’s what she said.”

  I laugh until my abdomen hurts, and Jackson gives me a peck on the cheek before he walks out of the bathroom so I can dress. Once ready, I retrieve my purse and climb into the backseat of Jackson’s truck.

  “Dude, why am I not allowed to drive my own truck?” Jackson complains, on our way to the airport. “Catalina, earmuffs back there.”

  I raise my hands to my ears pretending they are indeed earmuffs, but I can hear everything.

  “Listen, my ankles are pretty much healed and so are my legs. My dick works just fine, so I don’t understand why there’s a problem with having my hands on the wheel. I’m just saying.”

  I bite my lip, trying to contain my laughter while Jackson glares at me in the sun visor mirror. I stick out my tongue, and he rolls his eyes in response.

  “Your ankles, legs, and dick have nothing to do with it. You’re still taking pain meds which clearly state you are not allowed to drive. Until you are done with them, you will not drive. Lei capisce?” Stryder answers nonchalantly, with his eyes focused on the road.

  “Io capisco, old man. Gah!” Jackson grumbles and crosses his arms across his chest. “I’m not an invalid, asshole.”

  As the truck traverses the winding roads of Casper, I sit back and contemplate my new life. They say time can change a person and make old things new. I agree wholeheartedly, but I hope my life doesn’t change again, and I pray with all of my heart this works out in the end.

  “Text me as soon as you make the connection to L.A., okay?” I ask Stryder as we unload his bags from the truck. He stands on the sidewalk of the drop-off area and looks at me with sad eyes. He opens his arms, and I walk into them crying. “Be safe, Stud. That’s all I ask,” I whisper in between breaths.

  His arms hold me in place, ignoring the airport transit officer urging us to wrap it up. He scowls at the officer, and says through gritted teeth, “Give us a moment, all right? This isn’t easy for either of us.”

  The officer replies, “Farewells are never easy, my man. You’re holding up traffic. Don’t force me to write you a ticket.”

  The incessant honking horns of annoyed drivers make us rush, something neither of us is prepared to do. I choke at the officer’s words, and wipe away my tears trying to keep my cool. I cup Stryder’s cheeks with my gloved hands and kiss his lips softly, trying to let his taste linger there for as long as possible. Breaking our kiss, he speaks.

  “Catalina, I love you. Be strong and know that you are loved by me, okay? I have to go.”

  I let go and jog towards the truck door trying to appease the transit officer and the upset drivers blasting their horns at us. Lifting the door handle with a shaky hand, I raise the other to wave goodbye. He blows me a kiss, then turns on his heel to walk through the sliding doors that will separate us for an entire month. I watch for as long as I can until he disappears from my view. Sliding onto the driver’s seat, I drive away knowing I’m leaving behind a piece of my heart.

  Crying while driving is something I’m not accustomed to, and like clockwork, Jackson reaches out for my knee and squeezes it tightly. I sigh, but keep my eyes on the road. From the corner of my eye I see his goofy smile that gets me every time. Despite my wet cheeks and stuffy nose, I smile. He cocks his head against his shoulder, and exhales as if relieved.

  “What would you like to do today?” he asks. “I don’t want to go home. I’m starting to think the ranch is my prison, and I fucking hate that. Let’s do something fun.”

  Keeping my eyes on the road, I consider his words, but when I see a coffeehouse up ahead I wiggle my butt against the leather seat. As I’m pulling in Jackson shakes his head, and chuckles.

  “Caffeine for the addict . . . Is this your idea of fun, Catalina? Let me inform you it is not.” When I nod, he lets out a huff and looks at me with wide eyes and a flared nose. It’s more than obvious he’s teasing me. “Girl, you need to get out more. Mmm-hmm.”

  “Shut up, Jax. You underestimate the power behind a nice, hot cup of coffee. It rights many wrongs in the world . . . just a few sips of the stuff and I’ll be as good as new. Trust me on this one,” I declare with a wink.

  Once parked, Jackson opens his door and jumps out cursing loudly when his foot hits the snow-covered pavement. I run to the passenger side, and place my hand on his shoulder. My heart clenches when I see the pained expression on his face.

  “Are you okay, Jackson? Anything I can do? Why’d you do that? What were you thinking?!”

  Jackson opens his eyes and laughs at me. Is he mocking me? What the hell?

  “You spewed out so many questions my brain kind of exploded. I’m fine,” he replies with a smile.

  When he sees the irritated look on my face, he laughs harder, so I push him playfully, and we walk into the coffee shop with linked arms. The young lady behind the counter blushes, and her hand rises to cover her mouth in surprise. It takes me a second to understand her reaction. When you know Jackson Reese on a personal level like I do, it’s easy to forget he’s a celebrity and well-known in these parts. I look over at him; he’s sporting the biggest smile, and watching his features light up makes me very happy. This is the Jackson Reese I met and grew to love with all of my heart. I take a step back and let him work his charm.

  “What can I get you, Mr. Reese?” asks the blue-eyed brunette behind the counter. I watch in amusement and notice her body is shaking so much that her bangs quiver over her eyebrows.

  “I don’t know, babe. What do you recommend? I’m not much of a coffee drinker, but can we get my girl here a coffee? Light and sweet with regular sugar, right, Cat?” Jackson informs the barista in a deep voice, and then winks at me in confirmation.

  The girl looks somewhat deflated by Jackson’s term of endearment for me; she tilts her head, avoiding eye contact with me.

  “Yes, please,” I reply, and walk towards the other counter to wait for my cup of liquid happiness. The barista asks my name, but Jackson answers for me.

  “This is going to be a mouthful, okay?” When the girl nods, he continues. “Her name is: She saved my life. She’s my best friend and I love her very much.”

  She looks at Jackson with wide eyes, and worries her lip as she busies herself writing the ridiculously long name he gave her with a black marker. When she’s done she exhales upwards, her bangs flying up and down then back to their spot.

  “And for you Mr. Reese?” she asks softly, as if he were a regular patron. Their eyes connect and she blushes again. Good Lord. Resting both of his gruff palms against the granite countertop, he leans in to get a better look at her name tag.

  “Surprise me, Ashley,” he purrs, as I bite back the urge to laugh my ass off. The man is shameless, but nevertheless it’s interesting to watch him in conquest-mode.

  Another barista puts my cup on the counter, not bothering to call out the name, but smiles when I sip and mumble my approval. I debate whether or not to sit on one of the couches by the large picture windows, yet there I stand sipping my coffee watching Jackson flirt with the barista.

  “Do you like chocolate, Mr. Reese?” Ashley asks shyly while worrying her lip.

  “On my stuff? Yeah, I sure do,” he replies without skipping a beat.

  The sip I’d just taken sprays from my mouth, and dribbles down my chin like a toddler’s milk. Leaning against the wall I laugh long and hard, making the other patrons look at me like I’m a loon. I cover my mouth with my free hand, trying to keep my wits in check, but I can’t stop laughing, and Jackson is laughing with me. He hands over the stack of napkins Ashley gave him to clean up the mess from my coat, chin, and hands.

  The other barista comes out with a mop, and starts cleaning the spray of coffee by my feet. Through my tears of hysterical laughter, I notice Ashley is the color of beets. I want to walk away to find a waste bin to throw away my dirty napkins, but I can’t move an inch. Jackson stands there, his ass leaning against the counter and his arms crossed with the smuggest look on his
face.

  “Was it something I said?” he asks with a straight face, which in turn makes me laugh harder. Other patrons look at me, shaking their heads.

  “Oh, Jackson Reese, you’re going to hell for that one,” I mutter before walking away.

  There is an isolated couch in the corner of the shop; I perch myself on it. As I wait for Jackson to join me, I look out the window and think about Stryder. His flight should be about to take off. My heart tightens in my chest as I’m reminded we’ll be away from each other and I’ll be left to my own devices with Jackson. My musings are interrupted when my phone chirps with an incoming text.

 

  I exhale a shaky breath, and through teary eyes I reply.

 

 

  I scramble for the ear-buds in my purse, and look up the song. I’ve heard it before, but never paid attention to the lyrics and when I realize what he means I smile. I can’t breathe either.

 

  I press ‘send’ and hold my cell against my chest. I wait for a few minutes and when he doesn’t reply, I gather he’s up in the air far away from my reach. It is funny how your life and perceptions can change right before your eyes, how love makes you whole and empty at the same time. It’s during times like these that you become thankful and embrace the happy moments you lived because they’re what you cling to during sad times. There’s this emptiness in my soul brought on by his departure, and I keep having these moments of realization, reminders that love is powerful and it can change everything about you. Loving Stryder is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I’ll never tire of admitting that. I’m still lost in my thoughts when Jackson sits beside me, raising his legs on the sofa, like at home, with a paper cup in his hands.