Burying Water (Burying Water #1)(91)

She pulls the blanket to her nose. “Smells like your apartment. Like the woodstove.”

Like the night we curled up together in front of the woodstove, in the blanket, I want to remind her. But I don’t think she has forgotten. I sure as hell haven’t.

The last lights on the restaurant shut down, leaving only one dim security light shining down on the side entrance. A moment later, the waitress who served us appears, pulling the door shut behind her and darting to her car.

And we’re now completely alone.

I can’t hold back anymore. “Are you ever going to leave him?”

“Yes, I am going to.” Her gaze drops to her hands. “It’s just not that simple anymore.”

“Yeah, it is. Pack your stuff up and file for divorce on grounds of his cheating on you.”

“You mean like I cheated on him?” she whispers.

“This is different and you know it, Alex. He doesn’t give a f**k about any of them. But you and me—” I cut myself off.

Silence fills the car.

“Why’d you want to meet up with me tonight?”

Alex’s mouth opens to say something but she stops, as though she can’t get the words out. “I miss you so much, Jesse.”

My gut tells me she was going to say something else, but it doesn’t matter. What she did say makes all the long nights lying in bed alone, bitter that she gave up on us so easily, disappear from my thoughts. It makes my heart start pumping and all my resolve vanish. I reach over and grab her around her waist with both hands, using my strength to lift her over the console and onto my lap, blanket and all. Not caring about Viktor or the ring on her finger or anything else except having this girl’s mouth on mine again.

She doesn’t resist, climbing onto my lap to straddle my thighs, her dress sliding up around her hips. I bury my face in her neck, inhaling her scent. I’d kill to cover my pillows with it again.

I don’t even notice the cold anymore, too focused on her as she undoes my fly. The hesitant girl from the hotel is long gone, and this one is tugging my pants and boxers down, her chilly hands warming up as they reach inside. I slide my hands under her dress to find the lacy tops of her nylons—the sexy kind that stop high on her thigh instead of going all the way.

My favorite kind right now, because they mean easy access.

And I can’t wait anymore.

Hooking one arm around the back of her waist and shoving aside her panties with a finger, I sink into her.

And let out a pained groan as she lifts her body off me. “We need a condom. Viktor refuses to use them, and who knows what he has been with.”

“Seriously?” The guy not only f**ks around on her but risks her life like that? Not that I should be talking right now because I was ready to go bareback with her, but at least I know I’m clean. I fish a condom out of my back pocket and throw it on in record time.

She slides me into her again.

And then I don’t give a shit about Viktor or anything else.

I pull up alongside the BMW as Alex adjusts her clothes, wishing I could just take her home with me. “What now?”

She pauses to take a deep breath. And sadness slithers back into her gaze. “Now . . . Have a Merry Christmas, Jesse.” Leaning in, she lays one last sweet kiss on my lips, before exiting my car.

THIRTY-TWO

Water

now

“The hummingbird.”

“Good morning, Dakota,” I offer, placing her coffee down on the counter in front of her. I have no clue what she’s talking about.

She waves a sheet of paper. “That’s your spirit animal.”

“A bird?”

She smirks. “A tiny, tireless bird who will fly thousands of miles to get to its nectar, who will appear dead at night, and then full of life in the morning. They’re the only birds who can fly backwards, did you know that?”

I shake my head, transfixed.

“In the spirit world, the hummingbird represents so many things—hope . . . persistence . . . miracles . . .” The passion in her voice is contagious, and I feel my own excitement swell. “Vitality . . . resilience.”

There’s that word. The one Jesse wrote in my journal. The word that calls to me.

“This,” she thrusts the paper out, “is what I see when I look at you.”

My jaw hangs open as I take in her creation—a medley of swirls and pen strokes, the detail intricate and precise. It’s a black-ink sketch of a hummingbird in flight, only its feathers are curled to form droplets of water.

In a word, it’s beautiful.

“Dakota. This is . . .” I can’t stop staring at it. “It’s incredible. Thank you.”

“You should get it right here.” She taps the back of my left shoulder.

I nod. “That’s exactly where I’m going to get it.”

“I think Jesse will like it.”

I feel her steady gaze on me and I hazard a glance to see the small smile she hides behind a sip of her coffee. I haven’t admitted anything to her about Jesse and me yet.

“I picked up dinner at Poppa’s last night and overheard Tina talking about how the sheriff’s son and the Crazy Tree Quilt Lady’s cousin were seen cuddling at the rodeo.”

I blush. Of course. This town really does love the sheriff’s son.