Come to Me Softly (Closer to You #2)(66)
Author: A.L. Jackson

Without missing a beat, she turned back to Christopher, who was filling her in on his classes, the last he’d have before he graduated in May.

As I stepped inside, Jared rounded the corner from the short hall that led to our room. His hair was all wet, deepened a shade, his clothes fresh. He hadn’t taken the time to shave the coarse layer of stubble coating his jaw.

Need turned me inside out.

God, it didn’t matter when or how many times I found him this way. It was always the same. He struck me with a bolt of energy, somewhere deep inside, in that place I’d always kept for him.

When he caught sight of us, he came to a full stop. His eyes were soft as he traced over my face, softer when they met with my eyes. A flash of doubt sparked in them when they hit my father, before he lifted his chin in acceptance.

The two were calling a truce.

Biting my lip as an uncontained thankfulness flared, I rushed to Jared. I squeezed him around his middle, whispered too low for anyone else to hear, “You didn’t tell me.”

A soft breath left him, and he brushed his full lips across my forehead, over my closed eyes, to my ear. “Whatever you and your dad talked about tonight needed to be said between the two of you . . . without me getting in the middle of it. I never wanted to get in the way of your family, Aly, to put pressure on it. I’m just glad he’s here and you both can forgive the bad blood I brewed between you two.”

My father’s presence weighed heavily behind me. Like he was an unwilling partner to the embrace Jared and I shared.

As I held Jared closer, a frantic murmur of truth expelled from my mouth. “You are my family.”

Relief hit him hard. Palpably. His heart beat erratically, and I held on tighter. Jared shed his own truth at the tick of a pulse throbbing at my temple. “You’re the only thing I have.”

Pride simmered through my consciousness as Jared showed my father around our house. He was so knowledgeable. So capable. Even still, I could feel the flickers of tension coming from him. His movements were subtly uneasy. Of course I noticed it. He was on edge. As if he felt he was always being studied, judged. Not only by others, but by his own self-contempt. It didn’t mean his pride didn’t tug at one side of his perfect mouth when my father complimented him, or that he didn’t go into detail about the kitchen, how much work it had been, and how happy he was with the result. Of course he’d played up my part in it, as if I’d had any bearing on the outcome of that impressive room.

When the oven buzzer chimed, my family gathered together at our little dining table. A couple extra chairs were squeezed in to make it suitable for six. I scoffed when they all went on about the meal, touting that it was one of the best they’d ever had. It clearly was not.

But it didn’t stop the affection that buzzed in the air.

I couldn’t contain my smile.

Christopher was no-holds-barred tonight, rambling on in constant entertainment, as if this moment was his ultimate calling.

Jared razzed him, and Aug laughed too loud, smacking Jared on the back. My mother played along with amused tenderness while my father settled into the fray, content to observe us all with a quiet calm.

It felt so good. Amazing.

Bliss shivered along my skin. I hugged myself, wishing I could hold on to this feeling forever.

Jared squeezed my leg under the table, like he innately knew what I was experiencing, his head cocked as he smiled over at me.

My heart fluttered haphazardly in the confines of my chest. It was warmth. It was joy.

I loved him.

I smiled back at him, my hand stretching out to embrace one side of his face.

God, I loved this man with all my life.

And I would never stop.

SEVENTEEN

Jared

I stood off to one end of the couch, a step behind it. On the fringe of the family room, like maybe I was the outsider. Which made no f**king sense since this was my house, but all of Aly’s family had descended on it and I didn’t quite know what to do with myself.

I lifted the half-empty bottle of beer to my mouth. Cold liquid slid down my throat. Swallowing, I sighed and let my gaze wander over my girl. She sat on the hearth beside her Mom, in the garden, as she liked to call it. An indulgent snort escaped my nose. How f**king cute was that?

I’d build this girl a thousand gardens if she wanted me to.

My attention drifted around the dimly lit room. Dave Moore sat in the overstuffed chair under the window. Christopher and Aug had made themselves at home, all sprawled out on the couch with their feet propped up on the coffee table, facing Aly and her mom. In the fireplace behind them, flames crackled and jumped, igniting the warmth on the walls.

I still couldn’t believe the way the house had turned out. Pride gave a firm tug at my spirit. Every square inch of it was perfect. Because it was perfect for Aly.

God, she looked like she was made to be sitting there on the smooth, flat stones. Dark hair twisted up in a messy pile on top of her head, pieces falling down to frame her face.

All of this I’d done for her.

She kept laughing, loud and carefree, listening to her brothers tell stories. That throaty lilt of her voice twisted through me like a summer breeze. Both she and her mom kept calling them out on their bullshit, reining in their tales that were stampeding out of control.

Another roar of laughter died down, and Karen sighed, sipping from a mug of hot tea Aly had made her. Her eyes traced the room I’d just been appreciating. She locked her gaze on me. “You have done such an amazing job with this place, Jared. I hardly recognize it since the last time I was here.”

A shock of self-conscious gratification stunned me. It unsettled me. My entire adult life had been spent fighting against anything inside myself that hinted at good. All these desolate days offered as penance while my soul sought destruction—my identity given to the dead.

“Thank you.” I had to force it out. Shame twisted through me on a gale-force wind—flashes of my mother’s face, what I had done. They all clashed in a violent fury against the love I’d found in this life, in the light that was Aly.

My hand tightened on my bottle, just as tight as my chest.

God, all I wanted was the light. To stand in it. Bask in it.

Awareness gathered on Aly’s features. She was so in tune with me. She cocked her head.

Are you okay?

She was the only one who understood. The only one who got me, as much of a f**king nightmare as I was, my moods manic, surging from one extreme to the other.

They’d been worse lately. Brewing. I could feel it. Like my demons were staging an assault, staking their claim. With each night, they dug their fingers deeper, spindly tendrils taking hold.