Reparation - Page 82/85

“I'm gonna treat you so bad,” he warned her.

“Exciting.”

“I'm gonna fuck you so hard,” he added.

“Even better.”

“You are never going to want to fuck anybody else, ever again,” he continued, dropping her on the bed and then yanking his t-shirt off.

“Too late for that.” She scrambled onto her knees.

“You are never going to want to leave me, ever again,” he finished, his hand gripping her high on her throat, fingers and thumb pressing underneath her jaw. She managed to nod.

“Never again.”

“Now, you are going to shut the fuck up, and you are going to show me just how much you love me,” he informed her. She smiled.

“That could take a long time,” she warned him.

“Good thing we've got all the time in the world.”

Oh, Satan, still so clever.

~16~

“Do I have to propose now?”

“No, Jameson.”

“Good. The words make me physically ill.”

Tate rolled onto her back, turned her heads towards Jameson.

“Do you want to propose to me?”

“Do you want the truth?”

“Always.”

“No. Jesus, Tate, I barely know you. I don't even know your full name. What's your middle name?”

“Elliot.”

Jameson turned his head towards Tate.

“Serious?”

“Yes. Not all of us are as blessed as you, Santiago.”

“Shut up.”

“Alright.”

“I missed you, baby girl. So goddamn much.”

“Good. I missed you, too.”

“You always miss me. Why do you keep trying to get away?”

“Because you scare me.”

“You scare me, too, but you don't see me running.”

“I know. You're braver than me.”

“Sometimes I wonder.”

Tate reached over and pressed her hand against his arm.

“Jameson.”

“Hmmm?”

“You asked me to be willing to try. You said you were willing to try. That's what this is. I just want to be with you, and once in a while, know that you want to be with me, too.”

“I always want to be with you, Tatum.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I know how you hate titles.”

“Because we transcend titles.”

“That was really beautiful, Jameson.”

“Thank you.”

“We transcend ...,”

Jameson grabbed Tate's hand, brought it to his chest and placed it over his heart.

“We just work. Let it be, Tate. Seven years, a bottle of xanax, Pet, Nick, several countries, and a lot of miles – yet we're still here. Time to stop running, baby girl.”

“Yes.”

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you.”

“Will you ever fuck anyone else?”

“Not without telling you first.”

“Brat.”

“Fair is fair.”

“Will I always be your favorite?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Yes, Jameson, you will always be the best.”

“Good.”

Tate cleared her throat, drummed her fingers on his chest.

“And what about me?”

“Don't be fucking stupid.”

“You're stupid.”

“Watch it.”

“What about me?”

“What about you?”

“Jameson.”

Jameson pressed his hand flat over her fingers, stilling them.

“I'm not the one who has trouble admitting what we are to each other. I shouldn't have to tell you what I think of you, or how I feel, because I've made it perfectly clear.”

“Your idea of perfectly clear and mine are two very different things.”

“Tatum Elliot O'Shea, sometimes I think you are the stupidest goddamn person I have ever met. Sometimes I think you're crazy. Sometimes I think I hate you. Sometimes I think you're a psychotic bitch, sent from hell to drag me back. But always, ALWAYS, I think you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Tate smiled up at him, her eyes filling up with tears.

“See?”

“What? Jesus, are you crying again?”

“Almost sweet.”

“Say you love me again, that usually cheers you up.”

“Get fucked, Kane.”

“Close enough.”

~17~

Tatum leaned between the front seats of the Bentley, staring out the windshield. Why they had chosen to drive to Arizona was beyond her, and Jameson refused to fly back with her and leave Sanders to make the drive. So there they were, driving across the country. She reached out to fiddle with the GPS and Sanders slapped her hand away.

“Please stop. Last time you touched it, we wound up lost in Albuquerque for hours.”

“Honest mistake.”

They had stayed in Tucson for a week. She saw Nick every day. He wasn't exactly happy, but he wasn't exactly mourning her, either. She was glad. Even Jameson came down and shook his hand once. She hadn't even asked him to, he had just done it. When she asked him why, he explained that even though he was Satan, he could recognize and appreciate a gentleman when he saw one.

Ang was beyond excited when she said she was coming home, and he got even more hyped up when she informed him that she had made up with Jameson. She pointed out that there had been a time, not too long ago, when he had been trying to drive them apart. He pointed out that she never bothered listening to him, anyway, so why was she bothering now? Satan obviously made her happy, and Ang only ever wanted that for her.