The Things We Leave Unfinished Yarros, Rebecca (reading like a writer .TXT) 📖

his forehead to rest against hers. “I will fly. I will fight. I will write you every day and dream of you every night.”

She tried to keep the pain from overtaking her, shoving it back with the reminder that they still had three days. “That won’t leave you much time for taking up with another girl,” she teased.

“There will never be another girl for me. Only you, Scarlett. Only this.” He pulled her closer. “I just wish I could’ve taken leave today.”

She scoffed. “They gave you last weekend for Constance’s wedding, and the day to see us off. I can’t really complain.”

“Would you call that a wedding? It felt more like a funeral.” He grimaced.

“It was both.” Constance had followed through, as if there had been any doubt, and married Henry Wadsworth last weekend. Lord Ladder Climber officially had his foothold in British society, Constance had protected the land she loved so much, and her parents’ financial future was secure. “It was an overpriced celebration of a business deal,” Scarlett said quietly.

They lay there for another moment as the sun rose higher, the light in their bedroom turning from a dusty pink to a brighter hue. They couldn’t put off the start of the morning any longer, though Jameson did talk her into taking a shower with him.

Twenty minutes and another orgasm later, he wrapped her in a towel, then tied one around his waist and began to shave. She leaned against the doorframe and watched. It was a routine she never grew tired of, mostly because he usually did it shirtless. Once he was finished, she headed toward her bedroom to get dressed for her day, just as William let out his first cry of the morning.

“I’ll get him,” Jameson said, already walking toward William’s room.

Scarlett dressed, listening to the sweet sounds of Jameson singing to their son as he got him up for the day.

With Constance’s wedding last weekend, and her upcoming travel, it had made sense to acclimate William to a bottle, which came with the added benefit of getting to watch Jameson feed their son, which she did about ten minutes later. The bond between the two was undeniable. Jameson was the recipient of William’s biggest smiles when he came home, and the one he favored when he was fussy. Even now, William held the bottle with one hand and tugged at the buttons on Jameson’s uniform with the other. She didn’t mind the blatant favoritism, though, especially knowing that it might be a year or more before they would see each other again.

Would William have any memory of Jameson? Would they have to start all over again? It was hard to believe that such a primal bond could be weakened by something so indefinite as time.

“Would you like me to fix you some coffee?” Scarlett asked as Jameson cradled their son in a kitchen chair.

“I’ll grab some at the station, thank you,” Jameson answered with a smile, glancing up at her before turning his adoring gaze back to their son. “He really has the best of both of us, doesn’t he?”

Scarlett slipped her hair over one shoulder and looked down at William. “I’d argue that your eyes are a great deal more handsome than mine, but yes, I think he does.” Their son had her black hair, but Jameson’s sun-loving complexion. He had her high cheekbones, but Jameson’s strong chin and nose.

“Stanton blue,” Jameson remarked with a grin. “I hope all of our kids have them.”

“Oh? Were you planning on more children?” she teased as he tugged her down onto his empty knee.

“We make such pretty babies that it would be a shame not to,” he said with a quick, gentle kiss.

“I guess we’ll have to see about that once we’re all in Colorado.” She wanted a little girl with Jameson’s eyes and reckless ways. Wanted William to know the joy of having a sibling, too.

“I’m going to take you fishing,” Jameson promised William. “And I’ll teach you to camp under stars so bright that they light the midnight sky. I’ll show you the safest places to cross the creek, and when you’re old enough, I’ll teach you how to fly, too. You just have to watch out for the bears until I get there.”

“Bears!” Scarlett’s jaw dropped.

“Don’t you worry.” Jameson laughed as he wrapped his arm around Scarlett’s waist. “Most of the bears are scared of your grandma… The mountain lions, too. But she’s gonna love you.” He glanced at Scarlett. “She’s going to love both of you just as much as I do.”

Reluctantly, Jameson handed William to Scarlett and they all stood.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said, wrapping his arms around his wife and son.

“Good.” She lifted her face for a kiss. “We’re not done discussing the phonograph.”

Jameson kissed her soundly, then laughed. “The record player goes.”

“As I said,” she replied with an arched brow, “we’re not done discussing it.” Scarlett wasn’t superstitious, but most pilots were, and taking the record player home to Jameson’s mother felt like inviting bad luck.

“We’ll talk about it when I get home,” he promised. He kissed her again, hard and quick, then brushed his lips over William’s and walked out the door.

“We’ll talk about it means Mummy is going to win,” she told William, tickling him gently.

He gave her a belly laugh that she couldn’t help but return.

…

Jameson rolled his shoulders, attempting to ease what had become a permanent ache in his muscles. Their objective, a target on the German border, had been accomplished, and though the three bombers they were escorting had come under fire, they were currently over the Netherlands and whole. That’s what he called a good day.

He glanced at the picture he still kept tacked beneath the gauge and smiled. It was the same one of Scarlett that Constance had given him almost two years ago. He knew she thought it was bad luck to take the record player home, but he had all the luck he needed in