Page 55 of Finding Carly
Carly sighed. “I know.”
“I just need you to be careful, angel. Remember what you’re learning in your self-defense classes. I don’t want you to go back to being terrified of people, but I need you to be aware of your surroundings at all times.”
“I am. I will,” she said. “If something happens…you’ll come find me, right?”
“Nothing in this world would stop me from not only finding you, but making whoever dared fucking touch what’s mine pay.” Jag knew he sounded a bit bloodthirsty, but Carly didn’t even blink.
“Okay.”
“You can’t ever give up fighting though, angel.”
“I won’t.”
“I mean it. No matter how bleak things seem, don’t lose hope in me. Or my team. Or Baker. Or your friends. I will turn over every single damn rock on this island to get to you, but you can’t ever give up, understand?”
She nodded, then got a thoughtful look on her face.
“What? What’s going through your head right now?” Jag asked.
“Most guys would probably tell me not to think like that at all. Would tell me nothing’s going to happen, that I’ll be fine.”
“First, I’m not most men. Second, I wish to God I could tell you that you’ll be fine. That I’ll keep you safe. But I’ve learned that what we want to happen isn’t always whatdoeshappen. I want you to be prepared for anything, and if I sit here and tell you that all is well, that you’re safe, that nothing bad will ever happen to you, I’m doing you a disservice.
“Life is fucking hard. It’s not all birthday parties, doughnuts, and pretty pictures on Instagram. It’s falling down and skinning your knees, it’s losing people before they’ve gotten to live out their lives, it’s cancer, chronic diseases, and bullies getting away with being assholes. I need you to be strong enough to weather those storms, both with me by your side and when you’re on your own. As a couple, we’re only as strong as we are individually. I can’t be with you every minute of every day, no matter how much I want to. If shit happens, I need you to fight, angel. Fight for yourself. Fight for me. Fight forus.”
Tears formed in Carly’s eyes as she stared up at him. “I will.”
“Promise?”
“Promise. I know you go into horrible situations on missions. Dangerous ones. With bullets flying and stuff. I need you to promise the same thing. If you get captured, or shot, or whatever, please hold on until you’re rescued or see a doctor.”
“I promise,” Jag said. This conversation felt like they were taking vows. And in a way, they were. He cleared his throat once again. They’d had some pretty emotional conversations tonight, and he was ready to move things into more pleasurable territory.
“You good?” he asked.
“Yeah. You?”
“Yup. You want to watch TV? I could put on a movie. Make us some popcorn or some other snack,” he suggested.
“Or…?”
“You have something else in mind? A card game or something?” he teased.
She laughed. “Or something.” Carly reached up and palmed the back of his head and did her best to force him closer.
Jag smiled, resisting. “You want something, angel?”
“Yes. You,” she said simply.
“I’m yours,” Jag told her, then let her lower his head.
They made out on the couch for what seemed like hours. When Jag was with Carly, nothing else mattered. Not his past, not the present, and definitely not what might await them in the future. It was only the two of them, lost in passion, in each other.
When Jag’s hand eventually slipped under the baggy T-shirt she was wearing—he’d never get enough of seeing her wearing his clothes—he stilled when she stiffened beneath him. He stopped immediately, lifting his head to stare down at her.
“I’m sorry, I just…I like your hands on me, Jag.”
“But?” he asked, sliding his hand back out from under her shirt. The brief touch of her warm skin made his palm tingle, but he’d rather cut off his hand than make her uncomfortable even for a moment.
