Unravel Me

“Who is that?”

“Jamie Cullum.” He climbed onto the mattress. Poised over me, he lowered his head so our noses touched. “We’re going to lie here and forget the world for a while, alright?”

Enclosed within his magnetic sphere I reached up, touching his cheek. “If that’s what you want.”

His jaw tensed, eyes flashing. “You are what I want. Only you. Always.”

He kissed me with the feverish passion of a man who’d finally found the one thing that gave his life meaning. We made out like sex-starved teenagers, rolling around on the bed, yanking each other’s shirts off. Hands and fingers moved greedily over skin, grabbing and caressing. His body was solid, lean muscle next to my soft curves. I had no definitive thought process, only where I should touch him next.

When we finally stopped, I had ended up on top of him, slowly kissing his neck.

“What are you doing with that smart mouth of yours, Amelia?”

“Staking my claim.” I nibbled at his skin. He tensed briefly, then moaned and relaxed. I kissed down his chest, smiling as the reddish-brown hairs tickled my face. A quick squeeze at my waist stopped me.

“Hey.” I sat up.

“I have to get something. Don’t move.”

He kissed my nose before standing up and leaving the room. I grabbed one of the oversized pillows and flopped onto my stomach, listening to INXS sing soulfully about afterglow. Resting my chin on my hand I smiled, looking out into the bedroom. Like the rest of the cottage, this room was warm and cozily draped in rich neutral colors. It reminded me a bit of the color scheme in his living room, only without the cold, sterile aura.

He seemed much happier and at peace here than he did anywhere else. But maybe that was just my wishful thinking. Anytime he let his guard down was a moment to behold. Oh, how I loved when he did. I could only hope he realized how much it meant to me.

I noticed something move out the corner of my eye. Looking to my left I saw Alastair standing by the door, pointing a camera in my direction.

“What are you doing?” I jumped.

Confused, he lowered the camera. I clutched the comforter, trying to tame my furiously beating heart. Dammit. Control yourself.

“You just,” I stammered, “I wasn’t expecting you to be taking pictures of me.”

“I was going to say something but you looked so pretty lying there. Sorry.” His shy little smile made me melt. So did the fact that he was shirtless wearing only his jeans. “Want to see?”

“Sure,” I sighed, sitting up. Settling next to me, he turned the camera so I could look at the preview screen. There I was, stretched out on my stomach clad in only my bra and shorts, hair all mussed up. My pinky finger rested on my lips, which were curled into a lovesick smile. To top it all off, my legs were bent at the knees, feet pointing up to the ceiling. Oh my God.

“I look so…” I wrinkled my nose.

“Perfect.”

“I’m far from perfect.”

He frowned. “I want you to see yourself through my eyes. This is my favorite smile of yours. You have so many different ones but this one…it’s…“ He swallowed hard. “I like to think you smile like this when you’re thinking about me.”

I blinked at him, stunned.

“Too cheesy again?”

“No. It’s, um…you have a favorite smile?”

“I have a lot of favorite things about you. At the risk of sounding too soppy, I’ll end it there.”

Regaining some of his trademark cool-as-ice demeanor, he leaned against the headboard. The guy who once declared he didn’t do relationships certainly knew how to charm a girl. Always a master at disguising his feelings, the mask slid back into place, locking in any trace of emotion that tried to escape. Not what I wanted.

“Can I ask you something?”

He eyed me suspiciously. “Alright.”

“How did you end up with this place?”

The switch from stoic to tranquil was subtle. He stared out in an almost dreamlike state. I was fascinated.

“It belonged to my mum’s parents. They were from Scotland and bought this cottage shortly after they married. I never met them. They died before I was born and left it to her. Years went by before anyone thought to do anything with it. I remember my parents talking about having it renovated so we could spend summers here. Obviously that never happened.” His shoulders slumped. “When I turned eighteen and finally got the keys to the place I drove out here to see it. I’d never been before. It was rundown and needed loads of work to be livable. I hired some contractors, told them what I wanted and here we are.”

Every layer I managed to peel away held an intriguing nugget of information.

“You never considered selling it?”

“No.” His voice tightened. “Not an option.”

“So, you’re part Scottish then?”

A huge smile brightened his face. “Aye. My being a ginger didn’t give it away, lass?”

“At least your attempt at a Scottish accent is better than your American one. What other tricks can you do? Got any kilts in your closet?”

Raising an eyebrow, he grinned wickedly. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“I like you just as you are now; half naked in your jeans, relaxed and playful. This cottage has an amazing effect on your whole being. It makes me happy to see you this way.” The words tumbled out of my mouth faster than I could employ some sort of filter.

“I feel safe here,” he said quietly, not breaking eye contact with me. “For someone like me, that’s rare.”

The strength of his admission hit me hard. This was his sanctuary, a place to lock out the world and be himself. I studied his body language, looking for any signs of withdrawal. He sat calmly, hands resting in his lap. I half expected him to start meditating.

“Is that why you brought me here?”

Staring darkly, he repositioned himself to kneel in front of me. Every muscle moved with controlled precision. I sat up on my knees so we were eye to eye. He still seemed relaxed but there was a hint of danger in his eyes.

“We all want to be understood, to find that one person who needs no explanation when they look at you. I’ve wandered through most of my life shutting out that possibility. And then I met you.” He paused, tracing his finger along my jaw. “Nobody has seen me so completely. We’re two sides of the same coin, Amelia. I am yours and you are mine. Always.”

A pleasurable shiver ran down my spine.

“I told you once that you made me feel so much, it hurt. Even now, in the safety of this cottage, it hurts. I don’t understand it but I know I can’t live without it.” He used both hands to cup my jaw, fixing a stare on me so hot the intensity burned straight to the pit of my stomach. I grabbed his waist, pulling him closer.

“I hate to break it to you, Holden, but you have it bad for me.”

“Is that so?”

“Yup.”