Page 116 of Wild As Her
And in that soft, glowing cabin, surrounded by quiet woods and stars, I fall a little more in love with him. Because he deserves everything too.
In the morning, I wake up to birdsong and Jack making coffee. He looks over his shoulder, grinning when he sees me wrapped in a blanket, bare feet cold on the wood floor.
“Mornin’, baby. I put the cinnamon in just like you do.”
I grin at how sweet he is. “Mornin’, Jack.”
He hands me a mug. I sip, watching steam curl into the air.
“We don’t have to leave until noon,” he says.
“Good,” I reply, curling into his side. “Because I’m not ready to go back yet.”
We stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other and everything we never thought we’d have. No cameras. No pressure. Just Jack and me, building something beautiful in the middle of nowhere.
And for the first time in a long time, I believe in forever with Jack. All we need is each other.
Chapter 31
Jack
The Good Ones by Gabby Barrett
By the time I pull into Cami’s driveway, I’m bone tired and more than a little dazed from the chaos of the day. Love greets me at my truck and wiggles her whole body when she sees me with happiness. I love that dog.
She’s standing in the kitchen, barefoot in jeans and a soft t-shirt that’s falling off one shoulder like she hasno ideahow sexy she looks. Her cheeks are pink. Her hair’s pulled up in a messy bun, little pieces curling around her ears. She’s stirring something in a pot on the stove like it’s just a normal night.
I could come home to this every night. Every single damn night.
“Hey, baby,” I say, shutting the door behind me.
She turns and smiles. Not her usual cocky smirk. Not the I-just-mouthed-off-and-you-love-it grin.
It’s soft. A little nervous.Shy.
“Hey,” she says. “You hungry?”
“Always,” I say slowly, stepping forward. “Is that… my favorite?”
She nods. “Biscuits. Fried chicken. Mashed potatoes with the good gravy. And… peach cobbler for dessert.”
I blink. “Okay. What happened. Am I dying?”
She laughs, cheeks flushing deeper. “No.”
“You burn something down?” I tease.
“No, but thank you for thinking that’s my version of affection.”
I step a little closer, trying to make sense of her. “Did you drink Poppy’s moonshine again?”
She doesn’t answer.
Instead, she walks right up to me, looking like she has hearts in her eyes, fire in her chest, and wraps her arms around my neck like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
And then she kisses me.
Her hands tangle in my hair, her body pressed against mine, and I kiss her back because I’ve been dying to for months. Years. Always. I grip her waist and pull her closer, her mouth sweet and warm and finally mine.
