Barefoot in the Rain

by Roxanne St Claire

  “That’s okay.”

  But he had one hand on the front door and one hand on the knob, enclosing her in the space between. He felt warm from sunshine and work, a smell that reminded her so much of when he’d come home from practice to find her holed up in his room, seeking shelter.

  Softening, she looked up at him, fighting the urge to brush aside the lock of hair that had fallen over his eye.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said, in barely more than a whisper and far too close to her ear.

  She started to shake her head, but he was so close, so strong, so familiar. She nodded instead. “Let’s talk outside.”

  They headed down the narrow front walk in silence as Jocelyn dug for the keys in her purse.

  “Lacey’s probably wondering where I’ve been all this time,” she said. “Or did you tell her?”

  Behind her, she heard him blow out a breath, making her turn as they reached the driver’s door of Jocelyn’s borrowed car.

  “You did, didn’t you?”

  “I told Tessa—”

  “Oh, great.”

  “Very little, Joss. Nothing about… history. I told her you were here and that your dad is sick and that you’re figuring out what to do.”

  She nodded. “I’d have to tell her that much, anyway,” she said.

  “You keep a lot of secrets, don’t you?”

  “Yep, you’ve been talking to Tessa. She who hates secrets.”

  “Well, she said she’s your best friend.”

  “One of them, but even best friends don’t need to know everything.”

  He took a step closer, heat rolling off his big body and the car right behind her, the Florida sun baking everything under it, even in November.

  “You’re lucky,” he said after a minute.

  “How’s that?”

  “To have so many best friends.”

  She smiled. “I know. I have three great ones.”

  “Four.”

  She frowned, not following. “Are you counting Clay as the husband of a best friend?”

  “I’m counting me.”

  The statement stole her breath for a second, leaving her without a quick reply.

  “I was your best friend once.”

  Was. Once. So much more.

  “What happened, Jossie?”

  Again, her breath got trapped, squeezing her chest. “You know what happened. I just had to…” Let you be free of me. “Move on.”

  “What happened… after you left that night?”

  “What happened?” He sure as hell really didn’t want to know, did he? This man who’d made every decision in his life based on loyalty and love, including the decision to help and care for a man who had once threatened to kill him?

  No, he surely didn’t mean that. He meant why did she cut him out of her life. “College happened, Will.”

  He put a hand on the roof of the car behind her, trapping her completely. “We have to talk.”

  This close, she could see every detail, in living, sunwashed color. The navy rim around the lighter blue of his eyes, the reddish tips of his thick black lashes, even the thread-thin crow’s feet from all those years of squinting at a pitcher sixty feet away.

  Without thinking, she reached up and brushed a few grains of sand and dirt from his cheeks, his skin warm and taut to the touch. “You get dirty at your job.”

  “Always liked a job like that.”

  She could actually feel herself falling into the blue of his eyes, like the Gulf, swirling around her, warm and inviting and gentle. “Do you like being a carpenter, Will?”

  “When are we going to talk?” His voice was low, direct, as unwavering as his gaze.

  “I’ll be back in the next few days,” she said, purposefully vague even though it was obvious he wanted to be anything but.

  “Cancel tonight. Have dinner with me.”

  She tried to back away, but the car was right behind her. “I can’t. I promised—”

  “Lacey, I know. But you’ve known me longer.”

  She swallowed, surprised by his determination and so fundamentally drawn to it. He still made her feel like her skin was on fire and her head was a little too light. Still.

  But surely he didn’t still feel that way, not after all these years. Because if he did, he sure as hell wouldn’t be taking care of the person who had torn them apart. So his loyalty—the steadfast, unwavering loyalty that thrummed through his veins—must be directed at Guy now.

  And then she knew what he wanted from her: to change her mind. “You want to talk me out of this, don’t you?”

  “No.”

  She absolutely didn’t believe him. “Are you sure? Because five hours ago you were pretty dead set against putting him in a home.”

  He closed his eyes. “I still am, but I want to talk to you.”

  “There’s nothing to say.”

  His eyes flashed. “After fifteen years? There’s a lot to say. A lot to catch up on.” He leaned closer, his face inches away. Too close. Too warm. Too attractive. “Please, Jocelyn. We go too far back, we shared too much to just act like casual acquaintances with a”—he gestured toward the house—“issue. We have to discuss… everything.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like your life and mine, like where you’ve been, who you’ve….” His voice trailed off, uncomfortable. “If you’ve ever thought about me.”

  She almost laughed. Almost told him the truth.

  Just every damn night and most days, Will.

  “Of course I’ve thought of you. I—”

  “So have I.” He got closer, too close. The magnetic force field between them sparked and arced and drew her to him. Instead of giving in, she put her hand on his chest, ready to push, stunned to feel his heart slam like a jackhammer. His chest was damp, hard, and so, so warm under the thin cotton T-shirt.

  Before she could take her hand away from the heat, he pressed his on top of hers. “Don’t shut me out.” Again. He didn’t say the final word, but she could hear it, unspoken but deafening.

  “I… I…” It was like the earth was shifting under her, a terrifying tilt that made her feel like she was losing control. She tried to snap her hand away, but he pressed harder. “I won’t shut you out. I’m sure I’ll see you a lot while I’m here getting Guy’s things in order.” She slid her gaze toward the house. “We’ll catch up.”

  Very slowly, he closed his fist over hers, slipping his hand around hers so that their fingers entwined. “I just want to know who you’ve become.”

  “Why?”

  His eyes flickered in surprise. “Why? Because I cared about you. I… wondered about you.”

  Not enough to hunt her down, though. She swallowed the thought; leaving Will without saying good-bye and never calling him had been her decision. He just went along with it.

  She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Okay, but you might not like everything I have to say.”

  “I’m willing to take that chance.” He pulled their fisted hands up to his mouth, searing her knuckles with his warm breath. “Because… seeing you again, well…” He lowered his head, touched her cheek with his, and whispered in her ear. “Not a single day has passed where I didn’t think about you.”

  Her heart stuttered and she closed her eyes, letting the words settle over her.

  “That’s understandable,” she said with as much cool as she could muster. Which, under the circumstances, wasn’t much. “You see my father every day.”

  “That’s not why.”

  She looked up at him, almost ready to confess that she’d thought about him, too, a million times, a thousand nights, and every morning when she woke up alone.

  “William! I can’t find my glasses!”

  He blew out a soft exhale of frustration, sending unintended chills down her overheated skin. Leaning away, he turned to the front door. “Check the dishwasher, Guy.”

  “I did! Found my favorite cup with the birds on—hey, are you two kissing?”

&nb
sp; Will stepped away. “I’ll be right there, Guy.” He fought a smile. “I’ll never hear the end of this.”

  But she just looked at him, baffled. Didn’t he realize that the very reason they’d lost fifteen years was standing in the doorway teasing them?

  So was he trying to woo her with memories or did he have an agenda where Guy was concerned? Did he think he could get her to change her mind?

  She wanted to find out. “I’ll talk to you, Will. Not tonight, but soon.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  Damn it, neither could she.

  “I’ll get a bottle of wine, stat.” From her front door, Lacey deadpanned her opening salvo, and made Jocelyn laugh for the first time all day.

  “Is my stress that obvious?” she asked as she entered Lacey’s brand-new home tucked away in the north corner of the Casa Blanca property.

  “No. Tessa had a nice long talk with Will today.”

  “Really.” Was that why he all of a sudden seemed interested in what she’d been doing for the past fifteen years? He hadn’t asked about the scandal. Had Tessa told him anything?

  “Really.” Tessa came out from the large country-style kitchen, two goblets of something red and inviting in hand. “You don’t have to look at me like I read your diary,” she said, handing a glass to Jocelyn. “It’s just time to talk to your friends, hon.”

  “One of whom is already in here drinking and waiting for you,” Zoe called from the family room.

  “Come on in.” Lacey put a gentle arm on Jocelyn’s shoulder, already in her role as nurturer and peacemaker, as she had been since the first week they’d all met at Tolbert Hall. The worst of Jocelyn’s bruises had healed by then, thanks to the most unlikely of guardian angels, and she’d managed to hide the rest.

  Still raw from the day’s events despite the fact that she’d stopped in her villa and showered off the memories that had rained on her all day, Jocelyn let Lacey guide her toward the high-ceilinged great room. The scent of tomato and basil wafted from the adjacent kitchen, and a batch of fudgy brownies tempted from the granite island.

  Jocelyn inhaled it all, giving Lacey a hug. “You’ve been baking. Lucky for us.”

  “Brownies? Hardly taxing my baking capabilities. But you smell those herbs? Homegrown by our very own Tessa Galloway.”

  Tessa gave a little bow of acknowledgment. “It’s only going to get better when I finally learn how to work this sandy soil. But the herbs are doing nicely, so I put them in a lovely whole-wheat vegetable lasagna for us tonight. Completely organic and healthy.”

  Jocelyn tapped her wineglass with Tessa’s, eyeing her warily. “All that gardening, and still time to chat with the construction workers.”

  Tessa smiled. “Come on and sit down. We’ll talk.”

  Jocelyn took a second to look around, since her first tour had been so quick when she’d arrived. True to his word, Clay had made building this home the first priority at Casa Blanca, and already the signs of a happy family could be seen. A framed picture of Clay, Lacey, and her daughter, Ashley, taken last Christmas, hung in a place of honor near a fireplace. A soft fleecy throw over the back of the sofa looked like it was probably getting plenty of cuddle time, and the pool outside the wide-open sliding glass doors was dotted with a beach ball and inner tube, no doubt the setting for some relaxing family hours.

  “I’m not getting up,” Zoe said, sprawled on some cushions on the floor with a wineglass in front of her. “I may never walk again.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I took her to my hot yoga class,” Tessa said.

  “Also known as the second level of hell,” Zoe said, trying to work out her neck. “But the instructor was almost as hot as the room temperature.”

  “He certainly liked you.”

  Zoe laughed. “Who doesn’t? Sit down, Joss, and buckle in for the Spanish Inquisition.”

  Oh boy. She fell back into the corner of an overstuffed sofa. “I’ve had a tough day.” In other words, Take it easy, gang.

  They didn’t respond as Tessa curled up in a big chair across the table and Lacey brought in a tray of veggies and dips, setting it on the table, then taking the seat next to Jocelyn.

  “Is Clay here?” Jocelyn asked when the awkward silence went on one second too long.

  “He went to Ashley’s soccer practice and they’re going out to dinner together afterwards,” Lacey said. “Stepfather and -daughter bonding time.”

  “They’re doing well, then?” Jocelyn reached for a carrot, knowing the small talk wouldn’t last long.

  Lacey nodded and patted Jocelyn’s arm. “C’mon, kiddo. We know you weren’t shopping all afternoon.”

  Jocelyn put the carrot on a cocktail napkin without eating it, choosing instead to hold up her glass to the group. “How about we start with a toast?”

  “Great idea.” Tessa raised her glass. “To honesty among lifelong friends.”

  “To knowing you are loved and safe in this room,” Lacey added.

  “To a rocking game of truth or dare.” Zoe grinned and raised her glass. “What do you want to drink to, Joss?”

  She took a deep breath, looking from one to the other. “To not talking about me behind my back.”

  They shared a guilty look and all drank, except Lacey, who squeezed Jocelyn’s arm. “We would never say anything bad, you know that. We love you.” She set her glass down without taking a sip and scooted closer. “And you don’t ever have to talk about anything you don’t want to talk about.”

  Tessa exhaled softly. “Except you know how I feel. I hate when we have secrets.”

  “Then tell me what Will told you today,” Jocelyn challenged.

  She shrugged. “Not much, but he told me you went down to see your father, which we all know is weird because you are…” She hesitated, looking for a word.

  “Estranged,” Lacey supplied.

  “And he said your father is sick,” Tessa continued. “That’s all. Well, pretty much all.”

  Jocelyn gave her a hard look.

  “I mean, I think he… kind of has the hots for you.” Tessa added. “But that’s just conjecture. He didn’t say.”

  Zoe sat up, yoga pain gone. “You so forgot to tell us that part.”

  “Honestly, I already knew that,” Lacey said, plucking a zucchini disk and nibbling on it with a sly smile. “Remember the big town council meeting when I presented the Casa Blanca plans and Clay…” She made a gooey face. “You know, practically proposed?”

  “We remember!” Zoe made a kissing sound. “So does the rest of this island.”

  “We got there late,” Jocelyn said, remembering the wild ride from a hospital hours away. That day had been crazy, and she had no recollection of seeing Will that time, although she had seen him at the previous town meeting. “Was he there?” she asked.

  Lacey nodded. “When I first got there with my dad, I saw Will, and the very first thing he asked about was you. And not in a casual way.”

  “In what kind of way?”

  “An interested way.”

  “When were you going to tell me this?”

  Lacey exhaled, searching her friend’s face. “Honestly, Joss, I thought it was Will keeping you from going south of Center when you visited. That maybe you had a history. I mean, I know your relationship with your dad is—”

  “I have no relationship with my dad.”

  “I knew that, but I just thought there must be something important between you and Will. Wasn’t there?”

  She sipped wine. “Define ‘important.’ ”

  On her knees, Zoe crawled closer to the table. “S-E-X.”

  “No, we never…” Almost. Nearly. Wanted to. Still wanted to.

  That last thought shot through her, surprising her with its intensity. “We were really close when we were young, really good friends. He was a great source of…” Fantasies. “Comfort for me.”

  “What kind of comfort?”

  “Why didn’t you tell us about him at school?
” Lacey asked.

  Jocelyn ignored Zoe’s question but answered Lacey’s. “We just went our separate ways,” she said. “He went to the University of Miami and had a big baseball career. I went to UF and met…” She lifted her glass, the early effects of the wine helping to dull the edges of her nerves. “The three best friends a girl ever had.”

  “Aww,” Zoe said, coming around the table on her knees to curl her fingers around Jocelyn’s hand. “That’s so sweet.” She tightened her grip. “But don’t deflect. Did he hit you?”

  “What?” She reared back at the question, so unexpected, especially from Zoe.

  “Zoe!” the other two said in unison.

  But Zoe didn’t take her eyes off Jocelyn. “On the first or second night at school, you were changing in the room, and I saw some bruises on you.”

  Her blood chilled. “Will didn’t hit me, no. Will has never ever hurt me. On the contrary, he…” Tried to defend me. Was willing to take a bullet for me. Wasn’t he? Thank God they never had to find out.

  “He what?” Zoe urged.

  “He was exactly what I needed at the time.”

  No one spoke, the only sound the soft hum from the pool motor just outside.

  “Jocelyn,” Lacey finally said. “We know your dad is really sick. And we know you have a rocky relationship with him. You need us, honey, and you can trust us with anything. Even things you’ve never told anyone else.”

  Perspiration tingled despite the cool evening air that tumbled in from the patio. All three of them looked at her with concern and love.

  Which just made guilt smash at her heart. If they knew that she’d told Coco—a client and, yes, a friend—and not them? Lacey would be hurt. Tessa would be furious. And Zoe would remind her every chance she got.

  But she’d told Coco for a reason, and these three women didn’t have any reason to know except that they were more like sisters than friends. They could be trusted, and tender. Plus, with Will doing a full-court press to keep her from putting Guy in a home, they could be her allies.

  “I hate my father,” she said simply.

  Yes, it was kind of hard to hate that weepy old man she’d spent the afternoon with, a man who couldn’t remember her name, but she still hated who he was and who he’d been.