Chapter 15

Grace stood flabbergasted, her mouth slack with surprise. “Jacob?” Her voice cracked and she brought her fingers to her lips, touching where he’d so bruisingly kissed her. The Jacob Pratt that Grace remembered was a slender boy of sixteen with a head of copper curls and a heart-melting smile, not this man standing so close she could feel the heat of the sun still on his bronzed skin.

Payne nodded his head and his lips turned up in that boyish smirk she so fondly recalled. “Jacob,” his name a strained whisper, a prayer, through her warm fingers. “I thought you were dead.” Grace wrapped her arms around his neck and his arms wound around her waist, pulling her close into his hard chest. She tilted her head back, peering up at him through her lashes and his lips once again found hers.