Sunlight (Haven River Ranch)

“Jax.” My voice was barely louder than a breath across the pillow.

He didn’t stir. His mouth was parted as he slept on the other side of the bed, and though there was only a foot of space between us, it might as well have been a mile.

We hadn’t spoken after the rodeo. I couldn’t speak to him, not yet. I’d needed time to wrestle with bad memories first. Of fists flying. Of a nose crunching. Of blood gushing.

So when we’d made it home, I’d retreated to the bedroom and changed into one of his T-shirts. I’d taken to sleeping in them, since none of my own pajamas fit. Then I’d climbed into bed, feigning sleep when he’d eventually joined me.

For the first time in months, he hadn’t held me close.

It was cold without him. Too cold.

Careful to keep my movements as gentle as possible, I slipped from beneath the sheets and padded across the dark room, easing into the closet, and felt along the hangers for one of his flannels. I shrugged it on, the hem skimming the middle of my thighs, then pushed up the sleeves as I inched out of the room, silently closing the door once I reached the hall.

I waited, ear pressed to the wood, listening for any sound. Only when I was certain he was still asleep did I tiptoe across the hallway to the nursery.

There was a lamp with a pink shade in the pile of gifts on the floor. I carried it toward a wall, plugged it into an outlet, and cast the room with soft light.

When Indya had asked if she could throw me a shower, she’d told me I had to register. I’d never registered for anything before and didn’t want to just pick random items, so I’d spent countless hours browsing nursery ideas.

I’d found a photo of a room with dove gray walls and a white crib framed with a pale-pink canopy. The designer had decorated one wall, floor to ceiling, with butterflies. I loved butterflies, so I’d registered for butterflies and a pink canopy and a white crib with a matching changing table.

The furniture I’d planned to buy myself, but Indya had surprised me. It was a gift from her and West.

Nearly everything on my list had been purchased, along with countless other items I hadn’t even known we needed. I still wasn’t sure what was so magical about a Diaper Genie, but the canister was in the nursery’s corner beside the unopened box with the crib.

I sat down on the white faux-fur rug that the housekeepers had given us and crossed my legs. Then I ran my hand along its smooth fibers.

It was all here, the makings of a beautiful nursery for my baby girl, but I hadn’t been able to set it up. Every day for the past month, I’d walked past this room, stealing glances at the gift bags full of clothes and blankets that needed to be washed and folded. Except I always found an excuse to stay out of the room.

Didn’t expectant moms love this stuff? What was wrong with me that I had zero desire to decorate a nursery?

The nearest bag was just inches away from my knee. There was a pair of lavender pajamas inside, the cotton adorned with silver stars. But I couldn’t make myself reach for it. I couldn’t take it out of that bag and start making piles of laundry.

So I just sat there with the light from that pink lamp to keep me company until a tall, muscled body appeared in the doorway.

Jax was only wearing a pair of tight black boxer briefs. He studied me for a moment, like he was assessing whether it was safe to cross the threshold. But then he came inside and sat behind me, his long legs stretched beside mine as he pulled my back against his chest, like he was my personal chair.

I relaxed against him, soaking in the heat from his naked chest as the silence wrapped around us.

“Why don’t you want to set up the nursery?”

“Because I’m scared I’ll love it,” I whispered. “And have to leave it behind.”

Jax buried his face in my neck, breathing deep. “Get it out of your head that you’re leaving.”

“You said this was temporary.”

“It’s never been temporary, baby. I only said that to get you under this roof. But make no mistake, you’re not going anywhere.”

I leaned away as he straightened, his gaze locking with mine. There were promises in his blue eyes. Words I wanted to hear, but was I ready for them?

“This is our house,” he said.

God, I wanted that. A home. A life.

“Tell me you hear me, Sasha. Say it. Out loud. This is our house.”

He might as well have asked me to jump off a cliff. To free-fall and trust that he’d be at the bottom to catch me.

Maybe it was finally time to trust. To say fuck it and just fly.

Tears swam in my eyes, like something in me was breaking apart. Walls. Chains. The duct tape that had kept me together for a decade. “This is our house.”

“I’ve got you, babe.” He folded his strong body around mine, enveloping me in his arms. “I’ve got you.”

I heard him. But what if I believed him too?

I burrowed into his embrace, breathing in his comforting scent.

Jax shifted to splay his hand on my belly just as the baby kicked. He’d felt her move before, and like the other times, a laugh of pure wonder filled the room. “Think she’s telling us to set up her room?”

“Yeah.”

But neither of us moved. Not until my legs were asleep and the pinch in my lower back forced me off the floor.

“You sit.” Jax pointed to the gray velvet rocking chair in the corner, a gift from Curtis. “Read me instructions as I build this crib.”

I went over and sank into the plush cushion, gently gliding as he started opening the box.

It was time, wasn’t it? If this was our home, if we were building furniture, sharing a life, it was time to start telling secrets. Real secrets.

Jax deserved to know my truths. Before he made promises, before those words, he should know what he was getting into.

“Jax?”

“Yeah, darlin’.”

“Tell me to tell you a secret.”

He stilled, standing tall. “Tell me a secret.”

“You know what I love most about working at the resort? Everyone thinks I have my life together. That I’m organized and in control. It’s my big secret. I’m actually a hot mess. I have next to nothing to show for my life. You moved everything into this house in five trips. Walking. I’m broke and paying off a mountain of debt from school. I don’t have many friends. No family to come visit me in the hospital when the baby is born. At work, I portray the woman I might have become if my parents hadn’t died. But it’s a lie. You ask me to tell you my lies. I’m the lie.”

It was a confession months in the making. It came out in a rush, but it clawed at my throat, like I was breathing fire. Like every instinct was screaming, “Fake it!” so I had to keep faking it.

But what if I stopped? What if I was just . . . me?

Jax’s eyes were soft as he stared. Too soft. I’d cry if he looked at me with pity, so I dropped my gaze to my lap and the swell of my stomach.

Wasn’t it supposed to feel better when you bared your soul? Wasn’t it supposed to be a relief?

I wanted to pull it all back inside. I wanted to rewind time and keep pretending. Keep faking.

Except that was not the example I wanted to set for my daughter. If I wanted to be her secret keeper, then I’d have to teach her how to tell them. I’d have to show her how to be vulnerable.

So I closed my eyes and let the walls come crashing down.

“What if I mess her up?” I whispered.

“You won’t.” Jax crossed the room, kneeling in front of me. Then he took my hands, bringing my knuckles to his mouth. “What did I tell you earlier?”

“A lot.”

“I said I’ve got you. I do, Sasha. I’ve got you.”

But I heard something else entirely.

I’ve got you.

I love you.

The tears were instant. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“It’s my fault.”

I shook my head, pulling my hands free to wipe my eyes dry. “No, it’s not you. Something happened a while ago. Tonight just brought back some bad memories.”

“What?” His entire body went taut.

I couldn’t sit still and tell this story, so I inched forward, bracing my hands on the chair’s arms to shove myself up. But it wasn’t easy to climb out of the chair, so Jax stood and pulled me to my feet.

He shifted to the side, watching as I bent to pick up a gift bag, the present with the lavender pajamas.

I took them out, running a hand over the soft fabric as he took the chair, elbows braced on his knees as he waited.

We were almost there. We were almost through the worst of my past. It was almost time to talk about Eddie.

I opened my mouth, about to say his name, but stopped short.

Not yet. Not quite yet. Eddie needed to know first. About Jax. About the baby. After all we’d been through, he deserved to know first.

So Jax would get that last secret.

Later.

For now, I’d start by explaining the fight.

“About a year ago, I came home from work one night and went to get a bowl of cold cereal, but I was out of milk. I decided just to run to the convenience store two blocks over from my place and get a gallon. The neighborhood wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t the worst in Sacramento either. I walked fast. It took less than five minutes to get there. I grabbed my milk and left. I was about halfway home when I heard a strange noise.”

All this time had passed, but that noise still echoed in my mind, as real as if I was still standing on that dark street corner. Maybe it was normal not to forget the sound of pain and violence.

“I saw these two men fighting. Well, it wasn’t really a fight. One was on the ground while the other kept punching and kicking him, over and over. I dropped the milk, and when it hit the sidewalk, it sounded like a ball bouncing before the lid flew off and it splattered. It’s weird how you remember sounds, isn’t it? How they stick with you?”

That was what had sent me racing away from Jax at the rodeo tonight. Not the blood. Not the speed with which he’d moved, as fast as a lightning strike. I’d run away from the sound of flesh striking flesh.

“I tried to break up the fight. I tried to stop the guy who was pummeling the man on the ground.”

Jax’s jaw clenched, his hands fisting as the muscles on his arms flexed.

“Not the smartest move,” I said, picking up another gift bag, this one full of ointments and lotions, none of which I knew how or when to use.

“In the fray of it all, I was shoved away, and I tripped over the curb. I fell backward and hit my head. I blacked out. Woke up to sirens as the cops drove up.”

“Sasha.” Jax hung his head. “Is that why you freaked when I got bucked off that horse?”

“Part of it.” I walked to the changing table, a white piece that matched the crib, and began unloading the bag of baby products into the top drawer. “It was a drug deal gone wrong. I hate drugs.”

“Me too.”

I folded the bag once it was empty, starting a pile for them on the table.

“I shouldn’t have hit Calvin.” Jax stood. “I’m sorry.”

“You already said sorry.”

“I own my mistakes.”

“I know.” It was what I loved about him.

He was honest and good down to the marrow of his bones.

Had he heard Lily say basically the same thing about mistakes at the hospital months ago? Maybe they had more in common than he wanted to admit. Maybe, despite her mistakes, she’d taught him the right things.

He walked over, pushing my hair off my temple. “It won’t happen again.”

I leaned into his touch and drew in a long breath. And there it was, the relief I’d expected earlier.

There was more to that story. More he needed to know.

Later.

After I sent one last letter.

Then Jax could have all my secrets. All my lies. All my truths.

“Do you still want to build the crib?” I asked.

“Not especially.” He bent with fluid grace and swept me into the cradle of his arms.

“Jax, I’m too heavy.”

“Pfft.” He walked to the door, turning sideways to whisk me out of the nursery and across the hall. Then he carried me to bed, laying me down as he hovered above me.

It was like a slow dance, the way he removed the clothes from my body. I’d told him all those months ago I didn’t want to dance, but he’d found a way to do it anyway.

When we were both naked, skin against skin, he knelt between my legs, drawing my hips up his muscled thighs. Then he thrust inside, driving deep. Our hands were threaded at my sides as he rolled his hips, bringing us together in a slow rhythm.

His eyes stayed locked on mine as he fucked me thoroughly. Beautifully. My orgasm came over me like an ocean current, tugging me under until I was riding a wave that rolled through every bone, every cell.

When Jax came, his body was tense and trembling, his head thrown back.

“Sasha.” My name was a groan and a prayer. Another sound I’d never forget.

When we were both spent, he collapsed beside me, hauling me close, my back to his front. He laid his hand on my belly and kissed my hair, murmuring something as I drifted to sleep.

Murmuring the something I wasn’t ready to hear. Not yet.

Not until I wrote another letter.

A goodbye letter.

Dear Eddie,

You were wrong to hurt that man. You were wrong to sell those drugs. I know you don’t want to hear that, but you were wrong. We have to start owning our mistakes. Mine was not holding you to yours.

I wanted to tell you in person or at least over the phone, but I have some news. I’m pregnant. I’m having a baby girl next month. We’re going to name her Josephine.

I love you. I’ll always love you. But this is my last letter for a while. I hope we find a way back to each other someday. Maybe this time, we could be friends. I’ll be here. I’ll always be here for you. Even if it hurts. I’ll be here.

Sasha