“Some. Other things not so much.”
Jerica frowned. “Well, I do hope that wherever we end up, you’re somewhere in my life, Bridget. I like you, a lot. I told you that before we officially started dating, and I’ll tell you that again, every day if I have to. I really like you.”
The smile came unbidden to Bridget’s lips, and Jerica leaned in, pressing their mouths together. “I like you.”
“I like you, too,” Bridget answered, really wanting to swap out the word “like” for another one. One that held far more meaning. But she couldn’t make herself do it. Not yet at least.
They made it through fifty favors before Karen bustled in and started cooking lunch, the conversation about the future dropping immediately as soon as a parental figure was in the room. Jerica lightened up on the conversation, and Karen probed her about her life and where she’d grown up. Bridget kept quiet mostly, wondering when Karen had become more like a mom to her than her own mother. If she truly thought about and analyzed it, it had happened somewhere around kindergarten, and that first sleepover she’d been allowed to go on.
That had been a fateful night in more ways than she’d ever thought possible at a mere five years old, because here she was, sitting in the Wilsons’ dining room twenty-five years later, more at home than she’d ever been in her own house. She’d help the two of them if she could, but she stayed seated until Karen tossed her a wet rag and told her to clean up the table. Bridget had never felt more accepted.
CHAPTER15
Jerica didn’t realizehow late it was until she glanced at her phone, saw missed messages from friends and family, and then balked at the idea that it was close to midnight. Time had flown by since she’d come up to see Bridget again, and she’d spent all day getting caught up in wedding planning and doing whatever she could to help Karen and Bridget.
Instead of being home and wrapped in her covers sleeping, she was still in the den with Bridget, Sarah, Eli, and Eli’s family. Alcohol flowed freely, and while it had been a while since she’d gotten a refill, she wasn’t sure it was wise for her to drive home either.
Gripping Bridget’s hand, Jerica gave her a squeeze to get her attention and then leaned in to whisper in her ear. “It’s pretty late.”
Bridget immediately looked at her watch. “Damn, you’re right.”
“I don’t think I should drive home.”
Nodding, Bridget turned to look her fully in the eye. “You’re welcome to stay here. You can stay with me if you want or on the couch in the basement. I don’t think anyone wants you driving this late.”
“I’ll have to leave really early in the morning to get home and changed before my shift.”
“Probably safer than driving now.” Bridget curled her hand around Jerica’s. “Besides, I’d like it if you stayed.”
Jerica smiled, warmth spreading through her chest and belly. She loved that Bridget could do that to her. She wasn’t sure Bridget knew the effect she had. She’d have to share that information soon, but not in a room full of people.
“I’d love that, too. But I should probably be getting to sleep.”
Bridget slapped her free hand on her thigh and raised her voice to announce to the room. “I’m going to bed. Jerica, would you help me make sure you I don’t fall face first on my way down the stairs. Beer and crutches is a fun mix.”
Snorting, Jerica shook her head. “Sure.”
Everyone bade Bridget good night, and Jerica stood to follow her to the basement. The conversation picked up right where it left off as they left, the voices of the others echoing through the hall and into the kitchen. It did take some extra maneuvering to help Bridget down the stairs, but she sat on her ass and scooted for most of it, claiming she didn’t want to risk more broken bones.
Perhaps Bridget had more to drink than Jerica had thought. When they got to the basement, Bridget showed Jerica into the bedroom, asking again where she wanted to stay. Stepping in close, Jerica put her hand on Bridget’s hip, pushing her into the doorframe they stood between.
“I want to sleep with you.” She made each word clear as she leaned in and pressed their mouths together. She’d been waiting to do that all night but hadn’t dared in front of the others, not to this extent anyway.
Bridget moaned lightly and tangled her fingers in Jerica’s hair, holding her close as their tongues moved together slowly. Jerica was on her tiptoes as she pushed her chest into Bridget’s, trying to increase every part of their body that was touching. She wanted more of Bridget—so much more.
Jerking back, Bridget eyed her carefully and brushed her thumb across Jerica’s lower lip. Jerica wanted to say something, wanted to say the words that were on the tip of her tongue, but something in the look Bridget gave her held her back. There was an underlying fear in the look, something uncertain. Jerica had no idea how to resolve it, how to give Bridget the power to say what she needed and wanted in that moment, so she held still, hoping the silence would do that work for her.
“I want you,” Bridget whispered, her gaze dropping to Jerica’s lips.
“I want you, too.” Jerica’s lips curled upward. “Are you sober enough?”
Bridget nodded. “I put on a show up there, but I drank less than you.”
“Did you?” Jerica laughed lightly. She hadn’t even noticed, but it would be in Bridget’s personality to be watchful of those things. “I haven’t had a drink in a couple hours.”
“I know.” Bridget swooped in and captured Jerica’s lips again. “I want you.”
“Then have me. I’m yours.”