Page 78 of What Remains

“Josie…”

Her name left him as barely more than a whisper. He guided her upward, his movements slow, giving her every chance to stop him. When she met his gaze, she didn’t pull away; she shifted with him, moving until she sat across his lap, facing him.

She hovered close enough now to see the moisture clinging to his lashes, the redness rimming his eyes. He was grieving too—not just for her pain, but for a loss so deep it was etched into his face. They were two broken people, holding the pieces of each other.

Slowly, his hands rose to cradle her face. His thumbs brushed beneath her eyes, wiping away the tears still clinging to her cheeks with a tenderness that made her chest ache. His touch lingered, warm against her cold skin, and she found herself leaning into it before she could think better of it.

Neither of them spoke. No words remained that could carry the weight of this.

She searched his face and found the conflict in the tight line of his jaw, in the sheer depth of a sorrow that mirrored her own so perfectly it hurt to look at. And beneath all of it, buried but unmistakable, something else.

Hope. Fragile. Terrifying. Beautiful.

Her breathing caught.

Her voice was a thread of sound. “So much of me still belongs to them.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know if I have anything left to give.”

“You don’t have to give me anything,” His voice dropped until she could barely hear it over her own heartbeat. “I’m just here.”

A tear slipped free despite everything, and he caught it with his thumb, his hand steady against her cheek.

Chapter 17

Kiss… Stop

He kissed her, softly, carefully. She felt her hand rise to his chest, not to push him away, but to feel the steady yet uncertain beat of his heart—like something that had almost stopped, but hadn't.

The kiss deepened, slowly. His hands slid up her sides, easing her heavy coat from her shoulders. It dropped onto the straw with a faint rustle, unnoticed by either of them. Josie moaned into his mouth, low and needy, pressing herself fully against him. Her breasts brushed his chest through the thin fabric of her shirt, sending a shiver through them both.

A sudden, almost painful heat surged through him, stealing his breath. She knew—he heard it in her softer moan, in the wordless answer of her hips rolling against his. His hands found the hem of her shirt and slipped beneath, palms gliding over the smooth warmth of her back until his fingers reached her bra clasp. There, he stopped, waiting.

She drew back just enough to look at him. Her lips were flushed and swollen from his stubble, her eyes dark. They simply stared at each other—the old barn creaking around them, wind whispering beyond the boards—two people poised at the edge of something neither could take back. Then, with the smallest nod, she leaned in, reclaiming his mouth with a desperation that undid him.

He unfastened the clasp and carefully drew the shirt over her head. Cool air touched her bare skin, and she shivered—from the chill or from him, he couldn't tell and didn't ask. The sight of her stripped away his last restraint. She stood beautiful before him, every soft curve a quiet revelation, and he bent his head to worship her—pressing open-mouthed kisses to her breasts before closing his lips around one tight nipple and drawing it gently into the heat of his mouth.

Josie's moan broke loose, raw and helpless. She arched into him, hands threading through his hair, holding him there as if letting go had become impossible. Restless, she shifted, guiding herself down until the soft heat of her body pressed against the hard length of him, still trapped behind his clothes. His hips jerked, a groan tearing from his throat.

For a few breathless moments, they stayed like that—lost in each other, in the taste and press and ache of finally touching. Straw whispered beneath their boots. Dust drifted through thin shafts of light between the weathered boards. Nothing beyond the barn existed.

Then Seth tore his mouth free, kissed her once moreand forced himself back. Instead of reaching for more, he gathered her close, wrapping his arms around her bare back, shielding her from the cold with his own body. When he spoke against her hair, his voice came out rough, almost broken.

"Josie... I'm not taking you in a barn."

He took a long breath and let it out, his forehead resting against hers. Desire still pulsed between them, hot and insistent, but something deeper held him in check.

"I want you," he said, his voice scraped raw. "God, I do. But not here. Not where any sound from outside could be a threat; not on a cold floor with the wind coming through the walls. When I'm with you, I don't want to be listening for what's coming. I want it to be just you."

His hand rose to cup her cheek, thumb brushing the flushed skin beneath her eye. The look he gave her burned—fierce with longing and just as fierce with care.

They dressed in a silence that felt heavier than the one before, each movement careful to avoid contact in the dim light. Josie found herself smoothing imaginary wrinkles from her shirt, a pointless task that let her keep her eyes fixed on something other than him.

Seth ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat, breaking the quiet with a voice that came out harsher than he probably intended.

"We should get back."