by Laura Drewry
“What are you talking about?” He kept his voice low, but she wouldn’t be soothed.
“Her letter!” Jayne’s fist, with the papers crunched inside, slammed against his shoulder blade. “She didn’t want me to … to … end up like my m-mom, so she …”
This crying … this wasn’t like anything he’d seen her go through before. It was thirty years of grief, loneliness, and anger all scrunched together in one wild ball of fury.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured. “What can I do?”
“N-nothing.” She curled tighter into his arms, her shoulders quaking with each sob. “It’s all gone. I … I …”
He held her with one arm while he held the letter up to read. It didn’t take long to realize Jayne had been right. The old lady was batshit crazy. She thought she’d been doing Jayne a favor by belittling her, by making her feel ugly and stupid, and by pushing her out.
“Jayne.” He set the letter on top of the nearest stack of boxes and kissed the top of her head. “I’m so sorry.”
“Why d-didn’t she just g-give me away?”
Nick couldn’t answer that because, as sorry as he was for her and what she’d been through, he couldn’t imagine his life without her in it; not when they were five, not when they were fifteen, and there was no way in hell he could imagine it now.
All he could do was be his own stupid self and hold her as tight as he could without breaking her. God she was soft. She fit against him like she was made to do just that, and every time she spoke, her lips brushed against his neck until it was all he could do not to groan.
“She could’ve sent me to military school.” Jayne’s voice was nothing more than a tear-ravaged rasp. “Or the convent.”
“After the shit we pulled at the church,” he said quietly, “there’s no way they’d let you inside a convent.”
“Th-that’s not funny.” She hiccupped over a sniffle against his shoulder. “And that was you and Carter. Not me.”
“But you stuck with me even when Father O’Keefe made us scrub the whole church for penance. Who else would’ve done that?” He brushed her hair back behind her ear and lifted her chin up so he could see her face; her beautiful, tear-stained, puffy-eyed face. “If Gran had given you up … God, Jayne. You’re the best friend I ever had, the first—and only—girl who ever kicked me.” He smoothed his thumb over her cheek, slowly, mesmerized by the softness. “You were the first girl I ever kissed.”
Her brow puckered slowly. “That was Christina Webb.”
“It was you.” She might not remember, but he did. “Carla Devon’s birthday party—”
“Spin-the-bottle kisses don’t count, especially since you barely touched me.”
Awash with tears, her eyes swollen, and her bottom lip trembling, a surge of emotion crashed through Nick. He wanted to hold her tighter, closer, to do whatever it took to make this better for her, but what? She’d never let him hold her this long before, and even though her arms were tucked up between them, she wasn’t pushing him away. No, instead, her fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt as she looked up at him, her blue eyes full of so much sadness, so much grief. There was only one thing Nick could do.
He kissed her.
Just once on the forehead. Then both cheeks. And slowly, softly, near the edges of her eyes. There was that spot below her ear, where her pulse beat so hard … oh, man, how he wanted to kiss her there, too. He eased his thumb slowly along her jawline, moving closer until he could feel her lip tremble beneath his touch.
How his mouth ended up so close to hers, he didn’t know, but there it was, her soft breath whispering against him, her lips opened slightly, inviting. He locked his gaze on hers; her pupils so big, her eyes so wide. For half a heartbeat, he considered backing away, but then her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and he was done.
There was no bottle to spin and no one to interrupt them; this time it was damn well going to count.
With a low growl, he touched his mouth to hers, soft, warm, and trembling. Her breath caught and held as Nick did it again, and then once more, terrified she’d bolt, terrified she wouldn’t.
“Nick.” There it was again; that breathy sigh that slammed him hard enough to buckle his knees.
“Tell me to stop.” He whispered the dare between featherlight kisses, slow and gentle, but Jayne didn’t move.
Oh God, what was he doing? Any second now she was going to come to her senses and kick him again, only this time she’d probably aim a little higher than the shin. He eased back, his hands still holding her face, and leaned his forehead against hers.
“Jayne,” he whispered. “Help me out here. I—”
She moved slowly, sliding her hands up his chest and around his neck, pulling him back until their lips brushed once, then twice, her eyes wide and her fingers dancing lightly through his hair.
Yes!
He slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her like he wanted to; hard, long, and wet until she was breathless beneath him. Gone were the soft kisses, gone were the gentle ones. He hauled her up, curved her against his chest, her arms locked around his neck, holding on with everything she had. Her mouth was hot, her moans soft and sexy as hell.
Moving as one, he carried her back until she was pressed up against the wall, then lowered her slowly, inch by gorgeous inch. He pushed his thigh between hers, knowing he shouldn’t, knowing he shouldn’t have his mouth on her like this, or his hands on her like that, slipping under her T-shirt and over the ridge of her rib cage to the swell of her breast.
He pressed kisses along her jaw, tasting all those dried tears, then down the side of her neck until she arched into him, her pulse pounding beneath his lips, his name a sharp rasp pulled from her throat.
Jayne. His Jayne.
Jayne who was kissing him back just as hard, running her hands up his chest and wiggling down against his leg.
God help him. It was better … so much better … than anything he ever expected, anything he ever experienced. It was perfect. It was—
A car door slammed.
“Nick?” Brett’s voice, but more than one set of footsteps.
Shit!
Jayne’s lips froze beneath his and her eyes flew wide with panic. Nick moved silently, shifting them deeper into the shadows at the end of the row where he reluctantly let her go, but not before he kissed her again, short and fast.
Sweet Jesus.
“Jayne?” Ellie’s voice grew louder, closer.
It took Nick two tries to find his voice.
“Back here.” He stood stock-still as Jayne fumbled behind him, no doubt trying to straighten herself out before anyone saw her. She was such a girl. No. She was his girl.
When he felt her hand tremble against the back of his waist, he stared down at her for a second, then headed toward the front to face Brett.
“D’you find her?”
“Yeah, she’s here. She’s okay.”
“Oh, thank God.” Maya and Ellie came hurrying around the row of boxes and pulled Jayne into a hug. “You scared the crap out of us!”
“What the hell were you doing coming here alone?” Ellie asked, her face a dark scowl. “And she doesn’t look okay, Nick. She looks like hell. What happened?”
Jayne didn’t answer. She just looked up at Nick, her cheeks flushed, her eyes now awash with confusion. He had to restrain himself from correcting Ellie, because Jayne did not look like hell. She looked beautiful, all mussed up from him running his hands through her hair, her cheeks all red from his stubble scratching against her skin, and her lips all swollen from kisses.
His kisses. One look at Jayne, with his imprints all over her, finally knowing what she tasted like, what she felt like, it was all he could do not to kiss the breath right out of her in front of everyone.
Maya peered at Jayne closer, then at Nick. She didn’t say anything, but her gaze darted to Ellie, then up to the ceiling. As if they’d spoken some secret language, Ellie frowned at Maya, looked back at Jayne, Nick, th
en back at Jayne, a slow smile spreading across her face.
They’d obviously clued in to what Nick and Jayne had been up to, and while Nick was itching to go and get up to it again, Jayne looked … uncertain.
Brett broke the silence with a slow clearing of his throat. “You sure you’re okay, Jayne? I was a little worried.”
“Y-yes, I’m fine.” A second later, she covered her mouth with her hand and groaned. “Oh, Brett, I’m sorry. I completely forgot. I was just going to have a quick look here, but then there was all this …”
“Don’t worry about it. We can do it tomorrow night if you’re free.”
“I, uh, I …” Jayne swallowed hard. “I just need to check something first.”
“Sure, just let me know.” He gave Jayne one of those all-so-rare Brett Hale smiles. “If you’re sure you’re okay, I’ll run Ellie back to her customers.”
Ellie frowned. “My custo—? Oh crap! I left Debra and Lisa at the store!”
“You what?” Maya cried.
None of them seemed to notice the way Jayne paled at the mention of Lisa’s name, or the way she pressed a hand against her stomach, or the way she took a couple steps back.
But Nick noticed and it was all his fault. Idiot! He closed his eyes and grunted out a sigh. He hadn’t given Lisa a second thought when he’d found Jayne at the back of the locker, and apparently neither had she, until now.
If he could just rewind the last couple of minutes, he could explain about him and Lisa, and maybe that would ease the mortification from her face.
“Jayne.” He could barely hear himself over everyone else, and if they’d all shut up, or better yet, leave, he wouldn’t have to repeat himself and then she’d stop backing away from him, she’d stop shaking her head, and she’d stop looking at him like that.
“What was I supposed to do?” Ellie went on. “They came in to get a few last things for the Montreal trip, but then Brett says Jayne’s missing, then you called to tell him about this place, and all I could think was if this place was in the same state as the store was when she first got here—”
The ringing of her cell phone cut her off.
“Hello? Uh, yeah, hi. Yeah, it’s fine. We’ll be back in a minute.” She glanced nervously at Jayne, then at Nick. “Um, yeah, he’s right here.”
When she held her phone out to Nick, he shook his head, but she kept pushing it at him until he finally took it.
“What? Mom, I’ll have to call you back … because … I know!” A growl was building inside him that threatened to explode any second. “Yes. Fine. Fine. I’ll pick her up at seven.”
Jayne flew by him so fast he didn’t have time to do anything but call after her.
“Jayne, wait, it’s not what you—”
Too late. Brett already had her in his car and was pulling away, leaving Nick standing in the locker with Maya and Ellie glaring daggers at him.
Ellie grabbed the phone away from him, ended the call with a hard jab of a button, then pointed the phone right up in Nick’s face. “I told her you were a dumb ass.”
“It’s not what she thinks?” Maya spat the words out like they were poison to her tongue.
“It’s not.” Was that his voice? God, he sounded pathetic.
“No, of course not,” she stormed. “It never is, is it?”
He turned to face her, full on, and never had five foot two of anything been more intimidating. “We’re not all like your husband.”
Maya’s mouth opened, but Ellie spoke first, her voice a breath shy of lethal. “Do you have any idea how many times she got fed that same line of bullshit from that last prick she was with?”
“Barry?” Just saying the asshole’s name infuriated Nick. “He screwed around on her? I thought he was just an asshole.”
Maya whacked him with the back of her hand. “Why do you think I went to her after I left Will? Because she understands what it feels like.”
“But I’d never—”
Ellie plowed over him. “And why the hell do you think she kept telling you to stop hugging her and buying her things and doing everything for her?”
She didn’t even wait for him to answer. “She knew how it looked, knew how Lisa was probably feeling, and even though she’s been in love with you since … like … forever, you stupid shit, she never wanted to hurt Lisa like that.”
Lisa? What? Wait.
Did Ellie just say what he thought she said?
“Hold on.” Nick raised both hands to slow Ellie and Maya down. “Jayne’s in love with me?”
“Oh my God,” Ellie growled. “You really are an idiot.”
Yeah. He really was.
Chapter Seventeen
You can be too old for a lot of things, but you’re never too old to be afraid!
Marley, Home Alone
Jayne shut her phone off and refused to answer the door. Every breath was a painful reminder of what she’d had for that brief moment, with Nick’s arms around her, his mouth against hers, and his hands …
Holy crap, those hands.
“In a million years, I never would have thought Nick would do something like this,” she said, staring blindly into her tea. “And never in two million years did I ever think I’d be the one he did it with. God, Maya, what have I done? How will I ever face Lisa again?”
Maya shrugged grimly. Not once during the night did she ever tell Jayne it would be okay, or that it wasn’t Jayne’s fault, but she did stand guard like a pit bull, refusing to let Nick in, and when he tried to yell through the door, she threatened to call Brett and have him forcibly remove Nick from the premises.
“When you’re ready,” she said to Jayne. “Not when he’s ready.”
Somehow during her night as Jayne’s personal bodyguard, Maya still managed to field calls from her soon-to-be ex. Apparently Will hadn’t gone home at lunch that day like he usually did, and by the time he finally got there, things were more than just a little soggy.
The previous voice messages he’d left for Maya stopped just shy of threatening, but Maya didn’t seem worried. And after watching her wield that golf club, Jayne was fairly confident Maya could hold her own against anyone, but still, it was worrisome.
Well, it was only worrisome until he called back the next morning as Jayne and Maya were getting ready to leave.
“Talk to my lawyer, asshole. Yeah? Well, screw you. I don’t want that piece of crap house anyway—it was a piece of crap when you bought it and it’s a bigger piece of crap now. What the hell do you care where I live?”
Jayne froze in midstep, but Maya just grinned.
“That golf club was mine. Yours are all Titleist, remember? The TV? Mine, too, dickhead … oh really? A gift for you? Who bought it? Oh, that’s right, I did! … No, I don’t recall ever giving it to you for Christmas. Nope, I think you’re wrong. Good, go ahead and prove it. Find a card that says ‘Merry Christmas, Dickhead, here’s a big-ass TV for you.’ What, you mean you don’t have one? Oh, that’s too bad because I have a Visa statement that shows I purchased it. That’s right. My personal Visa, not the joint one. Just me. And the computer, too. My stuff, my money. I can do whatever the hell I want with it. In fact, if memory serves, I’m pretty sure I have a statement here somewhere that shows I paid for—” Her grin widened. “Hello? Hello?”
She clicked the phone off and set it on the counter. “Hope he doesn’t take this out on those poor kids in class today.”
“Wow.” Jayne snorted with appreciation. “You are one scary chick, you know that?”
They were halfway down the stairs when the knocking started again.
“It can’t be Nick,” Jayne muttered. “They left this morning.”
“Let me.” Maya pushed by her and wedged the back door open a crack while Jayne stood rooted where she was, her back pressed against the handrail. “Oh, hi, Katie. Um, I don’t know. Hang on.”
The door closed and Maya stood at the bottom of the stairs. “Do you want to see her?”
“That dep
ends.”
“Right.” Maya nodded and marched straight back to the door. “Do you have the baby with you? Come on in then.”
“Are you on your way out?” Katie asked.
Jayne could feel Katie staring at her, but she kept her eyes fixed on Sophia sleeping in her car seat. “I found Gran’s books in storage—”
“Yes, I heard.”
“So I need to haul them all over here today and get them out on the shelves.” She smiled as brightly as she could. “Opening day tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Maya said slowly. “I’ll just head down to the flower shop and see what I can keep myself busy with. Call me if you need me.”
The awkward silence was broken only by the sound of the baby sucking on her pacifier. After a few seconds of chewing her cheek hard enough to draw blood, Jayne sighed.
“Want some coffee?”
“Only if you’ve got some Baileys to put in it.” When Jayne frowned, Katie shrugged. “Carter says a little drink once in a while is fine so long as I’m not chuggin’ hard bar.”
Jayne couldn’t help but grin. That sounded like something Carter would say. She took the doctored coffees out to the living room, then ignored hers as she cuddled and fussed over Sophia.
“You have to do something, Jayne; just talk to him.”
“Oh no. No way.” She snorted softly so as not to scare the baby. “I’ve screwed things up quite enough already. The best thing I can do now is stay as far away from him and Lisa as I can. Besides, they should be thirty-five thousand feet up by now, so any talking will have to wait until they get back, and even then …”
“Get back?” Katie gaped. “Oh, for the love of God. When was the last time you talked to Nick?”
A fresh wave of shame, combined with the heat of her memories, washed over her. “Yesterday at the storage locker.”
“From what he told me, there wasn’t a whole lot of talking going on.” Katie’s laughter did nothing to ease Jayne’s shame.
“He told you?” Could this get any more humiliating?
“Besides the point. When was the last time you actually had a conversation before that?”
