by York, Zoe
Used for sex wasn’t exactly what he was thinking, but every time she slept over, he was reminded that he’d built this house so they could raise a family in it.
Dani didn’t seem to be future-focused at all. It might help if you asked her what she wanted. But he couldn’t. He was terrified that her answer might not be the same as his.
And the first conversation they needed to have, before he started popping the big questions, was really, hey, can I not be your dirty little secret? But he was a fucking coward, because he couldn’t ask her that, either.
So when she texted him to say she was coming back to his place between night shifts, to sleep, he told her to let herself in, but he’d be on the job site all day. Sorry I can’t get away, he lied. He was the boss. If she thought about it, she’d probably know that didn’t make sense.
Jake gritted his teeth. She wouldn’t think about it. She was totally happy with the easy nothingness of their arrangement.
The way she makes you feel isn’t nothing, asshole. There was a big part of his conscience that knew he was wrong to be pissed off. But damn it, talking about feelings wasn’t anything he had experience with, and when it was so easy—and perfect—between them physically, he selfishly wanted them to magically be on the same page for the rest of it.
If you make it home for an early dinner, I’ll give you a dirty blow job before I leave for work.
He was totally stupid for not thinking that was the best idea ever. Tempting, gorgeous. He stared at his phone for a minute before sending a follow up message. You could grab takeout and come see me here.
She didn’t respond right away, and he could fill in the silence. Then your crew would see us together. Two phone calls later and my brothers will know.
Well, it was fucking stupid that they didn’t. That he hadn’t manned up and told them himself. That in a month of sleeping together, he and Dani hadn’t talked about it again.
They’d been too busy in bed. And on his couch, in his kitchen, and all over his bathroom. He’d been too busy taking bubble baths with the woman of his dreams to notice his grump coming on, and now it was here.
Maybe, she responded, and that was enough for him to tuck his phone away. He’d rather pretend it wasn’t a polite no. He grabbed a case of tiles and headed back into the year-round cottage they were renovating for a nice premium—as long as they got it done by the middle of February. A film shoot was coming to town, and all the fancy people needed places to stay. Nice places, with rainfall shower heads and in-floor radiant heating.
Hell, he could appreciate that. And it was a good business to be in, that was for sure.
When he dragged himself home, well after Dani left for her third night shift in a row, and he found a casserole in the fridge with a post-it note on it that said, Eat this. Not quite as good as sex, but those houses won’t build themselves.
And a heart. She signed it with a damn heart, which made him feel like dirt. So he ate it and sent her a text of thanks right away.
— —
Three days later, Dani was driving home—to her parents’ house, although she was rarely there anymore—after an unexpected day shift. She’d work four nights on, then had a day off before being called in to fill in. She hated those non-weekends, when it seemed like all she did was sleep and do laundry and reset her clock before diving into work again.
Jake had had the day off today, and she knew he was disappointed they didn’t spend it together. So she was going home just long enough to grab some clothes.
Her mother was setting the table when she blew through the kitchen. “Do you want some manicotti?”
“Mmm, that sounds good. But no, I’m heading out again.”
She got a solid raised eyebrow for that, and she winced.
“Are you going to introduce us to this boy?”
He’s not a boy, she thought. “Yes. Eventually.” When I know it’s serious. The last thing she wanted was to get everyone else tangled up in their business if Jake wasn’t serious. And although they’d had an amazing month of connecting physically, they hadn’t had any further conversations about their relationship since New Year’s Eve.
Anne set down the cutlery she’d been holding and touched Dani’s arm. “You seem happy.”
“I am. And I’m sorry for being vague.”
“Go spend a minute with your father before you leave again.”
So Dani did that. She got the update on the football scores from Europe, then a lecture about driving in the dark, and finally she escaped with a box of biscotti and muffins.
As it had every time she’d done the same thing over the last month, her heart beat a little faster as she deliberately drove in the wrong direction, heading to the main strip instead of out of town to Jake’s house. She looped down to the tiny marina at the harbour, then cut back through the residential neighbourhood on the outskirts of town. A ridiculous play at subterfuge, and one that would end soon.
Dani sighed. Maybe when I’m not bone tired and just want to fall asleep on Jake’s chest.
Inside she found another person she cared about setting the table—for one. And it wasn’t the table, but his breakfast bar.
“Hey,” she said quietly, leaning against the archway leading into his kitchen.
He gave her a tired, lopsided smile. “Have you eaten?”
She shook her head. “I should have called…”
He put down his plate of leftover shepherd’s pie and came around to where she stood and pulled her in for a warm, comforting hug. “You want to share mine? Or there are two other leftover plates in the fridge. Your casserole or a bowl of chili.”
“I really want your shepherd’s pie,” she mumbled into his neck.
He laughed, a quiet rumble as he stroked her back. “Grab another fork.”
They sat across from each other, taking turns stabbing off forkfuls of the potato, meat and vegetable dish. After a few bites, Jake got up and got a can of beer from the fridge, pouring it into two glasses.
He asked her about her day. She asked about his. They discussed their plans for the next day—Jake had to work for part of the morning, but they’d have the afternoon together if the electrician sub-contractor showed up on time. It was lovely and domestic and exactly what Dani needed. Add in the beer, and she was halfway asleep by the time he rolled her onto the couch, turned on a police procedural that she couldn’t care less about, and slid his hand under her shirt. That she cared a great deal for, because Jake’s hands were big and rough and made magic out of the simplest caress.
“So there’s this regimental dinner and dance on the fourteenth,” Jake murmured against her hair. “How would you feel about coming with me?”
She shrugged, fighting to keep her eyelids open. “I don’t know.” A whole bunch of other questions crowded toward her tongue, but they felt big and clumsy and she didn’t have the energy to ask them.
He stroked her side, not saying anything. She burrowed her head deeper into the deliciously hard pillow that was his biceps, and wondered if maybe they could have sex while they were asleep. Because she wanted to have sex—always, gotta love the honeymoon period of a relationship—but also…sleep.
“Do you want to go up to bed?” she asked drowsily. “Maybe some slow missionary position action. Think I can rock your world with my eyes closed?”
He stiffened behind her. “No.”
Frowning, she lifted her head. “No? That’s harsh. A simple, ‘not tonight, baby’ would suffice.”
“Fine. I’m not in the mood, baby.” Jake’s words sliced through her sleepiness and she jerked upright, rubbing her face.
“Okay…I think I missed something.”
He stared past her, shaking his head. “Nope.”
“Wow, that’s mature. What’s going on?”
“Absolutely nothing, I’m pretty sure.” He swung his legs around her and stood up. “I’m going to do some work for a bit.”
She watched him stalk toward his office, pain and confusion warr
ing in her heart. What were they fighting about? She gave him a few minutes, but sitting on his couch waiting for him to talk to her—or not—felt weird and wrong.
Standing, she replayed the evening, wondering where it went hinky. Dinner had been nice. Cuddling had been nice. She slowly walked to Jake’s office. He was standing at his desk, like maybe he was warring with himself over what to do, too.
She said his name, softly, and he turned and pinned her with a hard gaze.
“What’s going on?”
“What are we doing here?”
The question took her by surprise. “Well, I was hoping you’d come to bed and make love to me, but it looks like we’re fighting instead.”
“Is that what we’d be doing?”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Is it making love?”
“Of course it is.” She sighed. Shit. “Look, I’m exhausted—”
“Then go to bed.”
His tone slammed into her like a ton of bricks, all hard and unwaveringly stubborn. “I was going to suggest I make coffee so we can talk about this.”
“Is there anything to talk about?”
“Well, you seem to think…” She trailed off, not wanting to name the ugly accusation she thought she was hearing in his voice. No. She shook her head. “I’m not going to guess. What are you thinking?”
He stormed toward her, crowding her against the door. “I think it’s been more than a month that we’ve been sleeping together, and nobody knows.”
“Half the town’s population is made up of our various brothers, and I’ve never been in the habit of telling them about my sex life! What’s wrong with wanting to keep this just between us?” She’d thought it was special, their little secret. Now she didn’t know what to think.
“I was under the mistaken impression that maybe we were building toward a real relationship. I didn’t realize you wanted to keep having a secret affair.” He sneered down at her. “Is that all I am to you? Dirty fucking that you don’t want anyone to know about?”
“Hey,” she snapped, so pissed off that they were fighting about this—that he’d waited until he was this hot under the collar to bring it up, and that it had boiled over on a day that they were both tired and done. But even though she could vaguely name all of that as the problem, his words were incendiary and she couldn’t ignore them. “I thought you liked fucking me now. You’re the one who had years of a guilt complex over the attraction between us, not me.”
“Then why the hell won’t you come to a goddamn ball with me on Valentine’s Day?”
She glared up at him, her face blazing. How could he not hear himself? No good was going to come of this conversation. Swivelling, she slid under his arm and headed back to the living room. This wasn’t her house. She didn’t have a safe place to retreat like he had his office. But she didn’t want to leave, either. This felt like a turning point in their relationship—their first fight, their first moment of serious discordance. They could retreat to their own corners, but she couldn’t leave. If she did…she worried that would slam shut his emotional gates and it would be another five years of longing from a distance—or worse, forever.
She hadn’t known that Jake’s heart was this damn fragile. And if he’d just talked to her, instead of letting himself get so wound around the axle…
Cursing under her breath, she grabbed her favourite throw pillow, the red nubby one, and stretched out on the couch. Maybe she should go back in there and try again. Or should she wait for him to come to her?
If only boyfriends came with manuals.
Troubleshooting Problem 3.2. Big Tough Alpha Male Gets His Secret Feelings Hurt.
Solution: Who the fuck knows, good luck with that.
Yeah, a manual wouldn’t help.
She sensed him before he stepped into the sitting area and before he said anything. The black cloud he dragged in with him was practically radiating the worst kind of heat.
This wasn’t going to go well.
And her fear was confirmed as soon as he opened his mouth. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“It was rude.”
“Then let me rephrase. Is this just sex between us?”
She frowned. First of all, that wasn’t the question he’d asked her. A dance? No, she didn’t particularly want to go to the formal event with her brothers, as Jake’s date. She didn’t want anyone to intrude on what they had just yet.
And as for sex… Yeah, maybe it had been just about sex in some ways. But they were still new to each other. What was wrong with wanting to build a relationship up from that foundation of a physical connection? He’d never asked for more, or initiated any deep and meaningful conversations. And now he was springing this on her… She shook her head. “I don’t know how to answer that right now. I don’t want to say the wrong thing.”
“Wrong answer, buttercup. Because I do. And we’re clearly not on the same page.” He stalked to the door, swiping his work boots on the way. She followed, feeling helpless, and watched as he shoved his feet into them without bothering to do up the laces.
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere but here.” He shrugged into his coat and yanked his keys off the hook.
In all her thoughts of not storming off herself, she hadn’t taken into consideration this possibility. “But this is your house!”
“And it smells like you now.” He stared at her, his gaze hooded and unreadable. “I can’t do this, Dani. Not if you’re not all in.”
“I’m not—” Dani watched in shock as Jake jerked the door open and then closed it just as harshly behind him. “I am all in,” she whispered to herself.
— ELEVEN —
JAKE headed for his brother’s house, but only got as far as the edge of town before he realized he couldn’t very well tell Dean what the hell was going on.
And he’d just stormed out on Dani like a fucking toddler. Shit. He pulled out his phone and sent her a quick text message. Don’t leave. I’ll be back.
Tonight?
His gut twisted in guilt. Yes.
Instead of Dean’s place, he went to his dad’s. The Colonel still lived in the rambling century home they’d grown up in, although all four of his sons had moved out.
“Jake, this is a surprise,” his father said gruffly after opening the door.
“I was hoping to get something from the attic.” Four years he’d owned his own house, and he still hadn’t moved his childhood stuff out of the old man’s place.
“No problem. Take a few boxes home. Could use the space.”
Jake grunted, not up for the usual tug-of-war they did. He liked leaving stuff behind. The ties that bind a family of emotionally unavailable men. “Got big plans for the attic, do you?”
“Might think about selling this place, actually.”
It was an idle threat. “Sure. Move into the retirement home and take up crocheting.”
His father waved him off and returned to his show. Jake didn’t bother taking off his boots—another benefit of a testosterone-rich living environment—and headed for his pile of boxes on the top floor. He knew exactly what he was looking for.
In the last few years, he’d made the move to keeping photos on his phone like everyone else, but before he got his first smart phone, he’d kept a small wooden box full of photos on his dresser. It was a fine line between being a stalker and showing her how much—and how long—he’d cared, but he needed to do something and words had failed him already tonight.
They needed to talk, but first he needed to give her something tangible before she gave up on him entirely for being an oaf and a brute.
He took the entire cardboard box labelled Jake’s Dresser and headed back downstairs. His dad twisted around in his recliner and grunted at him. “Your other arm broken?”
Laughing, Jake shifted the box to his left arm, detoured into the living room and held out his hand. Fosters didn’t hug unless their football team won the Superbowl—an official Colo
nel Foster rule. One that Matt and Sean had perverted, of course, but Jake and Dean were the good boys.
Too good. Too well trained. Too repressed.
“Good night, sir.”
“Might do ribs on Sunday.”
“I’ll be here.” He cleared his throat. “Might bring someone with me.” God willing.
“Good. Can she make coleslaw?”
Jake laughed again. He’d make a coleslaw and let Dani take credit. Not that she’d want it. “On second thought, she might be busy.”
“Get out of here and don’t come back until you bring a woman with you.” His father turned up the volume on his show and turned back to the National Geographic magazine he’d been reading at the same time.
Jake got out of there.
He’d only been at his dad’s for ten minutes, tops, but his truck had already cooled off and his breath puffed in front of him. He barely noticed as he peeled back onto the road out of town. Toward Dani.
Say you’re sorry, he told himself. Mean it. He would and he did, but it was ingrained in his nature to bristle and argue, and if he did that, she’d slay him.
He liked pulling into his lane and seeing the house blazing with lights and Dani’s car parked in front. He tapped his garage door opener and rolled inside. He glanced across the interior of the space. The other side of the garage held some construction supplies he’d randomly unloaded from his truck here instead of at the company showroom on the highway, and his snowblower. All of that could be moved. He hopped out of his cab, snagged the box of stuff from his dad’s, and stalked across the garage. The other door opener was on a ledge along the wall, and he picked it up.
He’d stormed out the front door, so instead of slinking in the mudroom, he went out the side door of the garage and up the front walk again. Out like a lion, in like a lion. Just an apologetic one this time.
