He lifted his head to stare at me, his eyes wide. “Kids?” he said, his voice all gravelly. “With me?”

“Yes, Jake. I think so. I hope with you, if I can, but I don’t know. I don’t want to push you. We can’t deny your past, but we need to let it go. You need to let it go. Your past is your past. And your mistakes were those of a little boy, and I know you know that now.”

He nodded.

Kids? Where is this coming from?

I hadn’t thought about the future much, other than what the hell were we—Jake and me. But suddenly the subject of kids was tumbling from my mouth, and Jake fixated on that one word.

What did that mean? Did he want to make more of a life with me? Would he go back to the old Jake? Would he be able to leave Shirley in the past where she belonged?

“Do you still want to take me from behind?” I asked on a whisper.

“I do. So fucking bad,” he said, and grabbed my hand. “But you’ve already had so much taken away from you. I don’t want to take all the power too. Do you get that? I’m trying to be considerate.”

“Jake, don’t you see that you doing that, being that way, is not being yourself. That you not acting like yourself takes something away from me?” I ran my hand over his short hair, the tiny bristles like smooth velvet on my palm.

“Remember when you told me all that stuff about you?” I asked. “You thought I’d go running for the hills, but I didn’t blink. I held your hand and supported you. I’ve fallen for you from the beginning, just as you are, Jake. All of you—your demanding side, your guilt, your big heart. Ever since the night I met you in jail, you stirred something to life in my heart, but I didn’t know it yet. And then you came blazing in with all your crazy ideas, and I was done.”

“Aly, I just can’t believe it.”

“You can.”

Jake knelt closer, then reached up and kissed me. His tongue swiped the roof of my mouth and he bit down on my lower lip. Without letting go of my mouth, he brought my hands around my back and pulled me tight, securing me in place as he sucked my nipple through my shirt.

A desperate moan rose up in my throat. Jake brought his hands to the neckline of my tank and he ripped it right down the middle, then unclipped the hook on the front of my bra and brought his mouth back down on my bare breast. When he made contact with my skin, my nipple went hard in his mouth, and I shoved my breasts further in his face.

“No, Aly. I’m in charge.” It came out as a growl, a command, a no-arguments-allowed demand.

Yes!

His tongue slid down my belly. It was tighter than before, since all I did was use my core for balance.

“Love this,” he whispered as his tongue grazed along my belly button. In a moment of rage, I’d forced Bess to take me to get a belly-button piercing. I had no idea what possessed me. I’d always been such a good girl, and I still was.

But I had discovered there was a tiny naughty side hidden inside me, and I wanted to feel sexy, no matter what. I liked being smart and sassy. It reminded me of the interrogation room where I first met the marvelous man currently kneeling between my legs.

Jake’s tongue flicked the small silver circle with a few dark blue beads before he slid off my workout shorts. Now there was nothing between his tongue and my clit. I’d thought about getting that pierced too, but chickened out.

Guess I’m only a little dirty.

“This good, babe?” he asked, his scruff dragging along my inner thigh.

“Yes! Yes, Jake,” I said, loud enough the neighbors might have heard.

A load moan floated from my lips as Jake settled right where I needed him. Flicking my spot with the tip of his tongue, he pushed his finger deep inside me, and I pushed against him, wanting more.

He swirled his rough mouth around my soft lips, the friction from his beard increasing my desire, tickling me in all the right spots. It made up for the loss of his longer hair, which used to tease and taunt me.

I came fast and hard on a whimper as Mav’s head brushed my leg, and tamped down the scream burning up my throat. The pup was probably being protective, worried that I was hurting. We’d need to leave him downstairs from now on during our naughty time.

“Jake,” I said on a sigh, catching my breath.

He focused on my eyes as he stood and dropped his shorts, leaving him ready for me—his perfect V on display, his erection reaching for me, a drop of pre-come slipping out. He snatched me up fast and tossed me onto my stomach on the bed, then climbed behind me and entered without warning.

Thank goodness I’d gone on birth control after rehab. It seemed appropriate with us temporarily living together, but hadn’t made a difference until now.

“Yes,” I said on another moan. “Don’t go easy on me.”

He stretched my arms above my head and held them tightly while he drove into me hard. I wriggled a little under him, thinking how delicious it was to feel so much sensation. My whole body tingled as I ran my right toes along the bed, thankful they were there. Then I clenched my inner walls around Jake and was pretty thrilled he was there inside me. A moment later he came on a shout, then toppled on top of me and didn’t move.

And that was the most delicious feeling of all.

Later that evening, we sat on the deck watching as fireworks erupted above the stadium. We’d skipped getting together with everyone for the holiday, and Jake opted to grill instead. He’d ordered me to sit on the chaise with wine while he made dinner, but I refused. Wearing my prosthesis, I moved around the kitchen without too much trouble, assembling a pie and baked ziti while sipping wine. It was the most normal time I’d spent since the incident, and it felt good.

Really good. Normal, even.

While we ate, I asked about the gym, the deal with the baseball team, the construction, and for a few hours, I felt like Aly. Jake had been giving me small updates over the last few weeks, but I wanted to hear it all. He smiled when I asked about his work with the baseball team, and he downright glowed when he explained Fizzle Cubed was on schedule for its grand opening.

He asked my opinion about the equipment in the basement, if it was quality or shitty, explaining he was thinking of adding a PT department to the new joint.

“How could I say anything was shitty? I have my own private rehab, Jake,” I said as blue and red bursts overtook the sky. We moved to the outdoor sofa for the fireworks display. Jake sat and wrapped his arms around me as I leaned back into him.

“Babe, it’s helpful for me to know.” He pinched my side, and I laughed like I hadn’t laughed in a long while.

Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was Jake, or both.

After I gave him my thoughts about the equipment, he asked about the townhouse. He fired questions into my ear, questions too difficult to discuss face-to-face.

“Do you think the stairs are too much? I see you’re not sliding down them on your ass as much, but seriously . . . maybe we want a ranch?”

“Jake, I’m not going to stay here forever,” I whispered into the night sky, watching as multicolored bursts popped overhead.

He sat quietly, not reacting at all.

Convinced he didn’t hear me over the booms, I focused on the fireworks, then gasped as I was whipped through the air. Jake had twisted out from underneath me, lifted me up, and set me back down on my rear. Then he knelt in front of me.

Admittedly, I was confused for a beat—all that sudden flying around—until I realized what he was about to do.

“No! No, Jake! Not now. Please.” I yanked at his shoulders for him to get up, and he quickly schooled the hurt rushing over his features.

“No! Jake, don’t do that. It’s not that I haven’t sort of thought about this very moment, before all this.” I waved my hand at my leg. “Just not now. I have to get a plan in my head. I’m not even sure if I should still stay here, freeloading off you.”