Raine

by J.C. Valentine

  Struggling to control her breathing, Raine covered his hand with hers. “Tell me what to do,” she pleaded. She didn’t want to give her baby away. She didn’t. But the alternative was so much worse, and her job as a mother was to put her child’s needs ahead of her own. What her child needed was a warm, safe home, and that wasn’t something she was in a position to provide.

  “Oh, Peach,” Jarret said, shifting his weight so it fell over her like a warm, heavy blanket. Framing her face in his hands, their gazes locked. “You already know what to do. Stay here. Stay with me.”

  His fingers toyed with her hair, a soft smile playing on his full lips as if he already knew what her answer would be. And maybe he did, because it was screaming in her head so loud he had to have heard it. He was right, though. Whether she accepted his father’s money or not, it’d only be a temporary relief, and she would regret it. Just considering adoption tore at her insides. Jarret was offering her an out, a way to have it all. Where he learned that kind of generosity, she had no idea. A part of her even wondered if this was some kind of elaborate prank to get her to drop her guard long enough to rip her world apart. But her world wasn’t all that nice to begin with, so what did it really matter?

  Pulling in a steadying breath, Raine nodded once. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

  Beaming, Jarret snatched a kiss so quick, Raine almost didn’t feel it happen, and then he was standing, holding his hands out to lift her to her feet. “Smart girl,” he praised her. “We’ll start by throwing those garbage bags out and getting you settled in properly.”

  Raine laughed as Jarret grabbed her hand and dragged her inside, all but running up the stairs. She had a feeling she’d made the right choice.

  SIXTEEN

  “There you are.” Jarret smiled at his mother as he leaned over and briefly hugged her narrow shoulders before taking a seat opposite her. His mother was a beautiful woman with her glossy black hair pulled back in a delicate gold clip at the base of her neck, her makeup flawless, and the stark white formfitting dress revealing her feminine curves. She’d aged well thanks to Dr. Parson’s professional touch, and only looked forty of her fifty-one years.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of ordering for both of us.” He didn’t mind, since this was their usual fair when they met for lunch and he always ordered the same dish. Taking the sight of him in, his mother tsked. “Don’t you think a long sleeve shirt would have been more appropriate?”

  Jarret had skipped work that morning in order to meet her for an early lunch, and due to how high Raine kept the temperature in the house, he was always hot. So, he’d chosen a light-weight navy blue polo and compromised on the pants, choosing a pair of fitted slacks in place of cargo shorts. Perfectly respectable for this establishment, but it showed a good portion of the tattoos running down both arms, which was what she was really objecting to. She’d always frowned on his choices of self-expression.

  Ignoring her remark, Jarret looked over the drink menu, deciding that this luncheon clearly called for something hard. “It’s good to see you, too, Mother,” he greeted her formally, setting the menu aside. The waiter, a slim man with a slight curve in his shoulders, came around and took his drink order, then disappeared again. “How have you been?”

  “Not as good as I could be,” she replied with a tight frown. Here we go. Slinging his arm over the back of the chair next to him, Jarret adopted a casual appearance and settled in, giving nothing of his sudden irritation away. “Your brother told us that you’ve been seeing that girl. That she may even be living with you.”

  So Camron had been running his mouth. Not that he hadn’t expected it. He had punched him in the nose, after all. No sense in denying it, he supposed. “That’s correct.”

  “Jarret, no.” His mother’s deep disapproval wasn’t anything new, and Jarret met her tone with raised brows.

  “Is there a problem with me having friends?”

  “Friend?” She gasped, pressing her hand to her chest. “I’d hardly call that”—her shrewd, blue eyes skittered around the dining room as she leaned across the table—“whore a friend.”

  Jarret’s teeth bit into his cheek to quell the vicious retort that begged to be released. “Don’t call her that, Mother. You don’t even know her.”

  “And you do?” she scoffed. Raising her glass, she sipped at the rich red wine. “Look, Jarret. Your father and I have been talking about this, and we realize that your…sensitivity to certain types of people may…color your vision.” She seemed to be having trouble selecting the right words, but Jarret knew exactly what she was getting at. It was just her nice way of calling Raine a whore, and it set Jarret’s teeth on edge. “We feel it would be in your best interest if we took possession of the house for a while and you came back home, just until this whole thing gets sorted out and you’ve had some time to clear your head.”

  The wooden chair creaked in protest as Jarret’s fingers curled around its back. “Take possession? That’s my house. Why the hell would I give it up to stay with my parents?”

  “Jarret, sweetie, please keep your voice down.” As usual, Mrs. Moss, the wife of a politician, was more worried about maintaining her appearance than her family. Reaching out, Jarret allowed her to place her hand over his. “You make it sound so harsh. The house would still be yours, of course. We’d just be holding onto it for you, for safekeeping. It would only be for a short time, and besides, I miss you. Now that Cameron is off at school, the house is too quiet.”

  He had to give her credit. That was exactly something he would have liked to hear…if he were fifteen again. But he wasn’t, and her words couldn’t erase the fact that she’d just insulted Raine and issued him a thinly veiled threat: the girl or his freedom.

  Jarret didn’t take kindly to threats. No matter whom they came from.

  “Sorry, Mother, but it’s just not going to happen.” A tense silence ensued as their waiter returned to deliver their food. As soon as he was gone, his mother wasted no time delving back in.

  “While I’ve always enjoyed your spunk, your father was very clear on this. The girl needs to go or he’s selling the house. You have to know that this isn’t a good situation. We only want what’s best for you.”

  “This is what’s best for me. I’m happy where I’m at.”

  She gave him a disbelieving look. “Just because it feels good doesn’t always mean it’s what’s best for us. To be clear, we didn’t buy that house so you could move some hussy in there. Your father and I won’t support such bad decision making.”

  Ignoring his lunch, Jarret extended his hand out, his fingers toying with the glass of whiskey in front of him. When he’d agreed to come to lunch today, he hadn’t counted on a standoff. That he was going toe-to-toe with his own mother, a person half his size and a quarter his weight, was laughable. “Since we’re being very clear right now,” Jarret said, his voice strong and unwavering, “nothing is going to make me kick that girl out. She’s my guest and she’s welcome to stay as long as she wishes. That goes for your grandchild, too.” Her mouth gaped open, preparing to argue, but Jarret just raised his hand, silencing her the same way his father always had.

  “As for the house, that’s mine. In case you two forgot, it was signed over to me the day I moved in, so no, you and Dad won’t be taking it. Not even for safekeeping,” he said scathingly. “So that’s off the table, too. As far as I can see, that leaves you with zero bargaining chips, so you can either get used to the idea of her being around, or not. It really doesn’t matter to me, because it changes nothing.”

  The look of horror on his mother’s face would be comical if not for the pallid color of her skin that made him worry she might keel over any minute from a heart attack. His mother was used to being treated with kid gloves. If she’d ever had any fight in her, it’d been smashed out long before he entered the world by the hard-as-granite and just-as-pliable Mr. Moss.

  “The way you speak to me…This girl is already having a poor influenc
e on you.”

  “No, Mother. If anything, she’s having a good influence.” Just thinking about Raine made Jarret long to get out of there. The restaurant was his mother’s favorite, and it was just as stuffy as she was. With Raine, everything was just…easier. Almost like being alone, but not having to.

  She made the average quiet of the day bearable to a degree that he, for lack of experience, couldn’t measure, but it felt damn good, and that was something worth holding onto.

  Decision made, Jarret downed his drink and stood.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Home.”

  “But the meals just got here. Aren’t you hungry?”

  “Funny, but I’ve lost my appetite.” Bending down, Jarret kissed the top of his mother’s head. Then, with a promise to talk to her later, he walked out.

  ***

  “Are you going to answer that?”

  Jarret glanced at the lit screen on his phone. Seeing his mother’s number, he went back to concentrating on the cards in his hand. “Blue, seven.”

  They were playing UNO tonight, and so far, he was kicking Raine’s perky little ass. It wasn’t her fault that she was a girl and sucked at cards. Most girls he’d met did. It didn’t matter the ease of the game. If numbers were involved, they always lost. Maybe it had something to do with men being better at math than women.

  Raine studied the fan of cards stretching her hands, her lips pursed. The way she used her stomach as an arm rest made him smile. His smile grew with the knowledge that she didn’t have anything to put down, just like she hadn’t had anything on her last five turns. Finally, she took from the pile, grumbling as that too was added to her personal collection.

  “Ah, turn that frown upside down, babe. It’s just a game. You should be used to sucking by now.”

  “Har. Har, asshole. Your turn.”

  His phone lit up again as Jarret laid down more cards, changing the colors three times. “Damn it,” he muttered, turning the phone off completely so they wouldn’t be bothered. Why wouldn’t she get the hint that he didn’t want to talk to her right now?

  “Who keeps calling?” Raine asked, pretending to plot her next move as she studied her cards. “Jilted ex-girlfriend? Stalker fuck buddy?”

  “Jealous?” Jarret asked, one side of his mouth lifting ruefully.

  “No,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “But I am right that it’s a girl, aren’t I?”

  “Yes,” Jarret hedged. “It’s my mother.”

  “Oh.” Looking down at her cards, Raine laid one down, using the matching numbers to plot her course. “Are you two fighting?”

  “What makes you ask that?” Jarret asked, taking a fresh card from the deck and waving for her to take her turn.

  “Um, the fact that you’ve ignored the last ten calls and just turned your phone off was kind of telling.”

  “Well, aren’t you a regular Columbo.”

  “Angela Lansbury is more my speed,” Raine retorted, then smiled gleefully as she unloaded half her stash, switching colors and numbers so fast Jarret had a hard time keeping track of what was going on. “Better watch your back, Moss. I’m coming for ya!”

  “Girl’s got claws,” Jarret teased, then laid down another card.

  “So what happened?”

  “We had a few words.” Jarret shrugged. “Nothing major.”

  “If it’s nothing major, then call her back.”

  “I would have thought you’d be happy that I was ignoring her, considering how things went the last time you talked.”

  Raine grimaced at the memory. “I won’t pretend to have warm feelings toward the woman, but she’s your mother and she loves you. If she’s blowing up your phone, it’s probably because she has something important to say. Maybe she wants to apologize.”

  Jarret took a moment to think about it. His mother could be a little high-strung sometimes, and she often said things she didn’t mean, or regretted later. The incessant way she kept calling him suggested that Raine was probably right. Running his hand through his hair, Jarret screwed up his face then pulled in a long breath. “So you think I should call her back?”

  “Definitely.”

  Fine. He would call her, but only because Raine said so. “Stay here,” he commanded, then got to dialing. The line picked up immediately.

  “Jarret?”

  “It’s me.”

  “I’m so happy you called. I was afraid I really stepped in it this time.” As his mother began a long, drawn out apology, Jarret continued to play his game with Raine. He had four cards left, all different colors. But if her track record was any indication of what to expect, he’d be able to take her down in no time flat.

  That wasn’t the case.

  The next chance Raine got, she dropped card after card, whittling her hand down until only one remained. Then she shouted the dreaded words. “UNO!” Only, she whisper-yelled it, her hands in the air, her body bouncing in her seat in a victory dance.

  Holding two thumbs up, Jarret smiled his happiness for her. “I totally let you win,” he whispered to her.

  “Jesus doesn’t like liars,” she replied with a smug smile.

  He’d bet Jesus wouldn’t like the things going on in his head right now either. The way Raine was smiling, her absolute radiance at such a minor victory, tightened his body with need. How long had it been since he’d last been inside a girl?

  Too long.

  But Raine wasn’t just any girl. He wanted her more than he’d wanted anyone, ever. What was it about her that made him react that way? Was it her plain beauty that drew him so completely? Was it because his brother had had her first? Or was it that she was pregnant that made him so damn hard?

  Was he one of those sick bastards that got hot off fucking pregnant women?

  “Jarret? Are you still there?”

  Shaking his head to clear away the disturbing thoughts, Jarret coughed into his hand. “Yes, yeah, I’m still here.”

  “Good, as I was saying. I’d like to make it up to you. Why don’t you come to dinner this weekend? Bring your friend. I think we could all use a chance at a fresh start.”

  “Uh…” Glancing at Raine, Jarret read the concern in her eyes. “Can you hold on a minute, Mom?” Covering the phone with his hand, Jarret relayed the conversation to her, taking care to keep his voice down. “She’s asking us to come to dinner.”

  “You mean you. She’s asking you to come to dinner,” Raine corrected him.

  “I mean us. She says she wants us all to start over.”

  Raine lifted a skeptical brow. He couldn’t really blame her for being suspicious. His father was a politician, for crying out loud. If that didn’t scream shady, then the sudden change of heart certainly did. On the other hand, how could they turn it down? A dinner with the family might be the perfect opportunity to air out grievances and make new connections. Maybe if his parents could see the evidence that Raine was pregnant with their own eyes, it would make everything more real for them. Maybe then they would be able to warm up to her and the idea of becoming grandparents.

  “Come on, Raine,” he said, surprising himself. Begging wasn’t something he’d ever done before, but he was uncovering a whole lot of firsts since she came into his life, starting with allowing her to invade his home. “This could be the perfect opportunity to smooth things over.”

  “Jarret…” She couldn’t look any more pained if someone were shoving hot pokers up her behind. “I don’t really feel comfortable with that idea.”

  “They want to make amends,” Jarret argued. Laying the phone down, he walked over to her and curled his hands around the back of her neck, forcing her to look at him. “My parents aren’t known for admitting they’re wrong. This chance won’t come around again, so if there’s any hope of them accepting you into the family, you need to do this. One dinner, Raine. It won’t kill you to eat one dinner with them.”

  “It almost did the first time,” she said, with a half-smile. Lowering her gaze, he gave her
a moment to think it over. Finally, with a drawn sigh of resignation, she asked, “Will Camron be there?”

  With the bad blood running between her and his brother, Jarret picked up on the message between the lines. She wasn’t asking because she hoped he would be, but because she hoped he wouldn’t. And Jarret had a sense that if he said yes, it would be a deal breaker. “I don’t really know,” he said truthfully. “But whether he is or he isn’t, I will be, and I promise I won’t leave you alone for a second.”

  The torn look on her face made him feel like a total asshole, but Jarret felt this was important. Yes, she had dated his brother. Yes, she had feelings for him once. And yes, they had broken up. He didn’t expect them to be best buds after all of that, especially since Camron seemed to be struggling with his morals as of late, but family needed to stick together. That notion had been drilled into his head since he was a toddler. Theirs would be unconventional, and it would be a tough, uphill battle to work it all out, but the end result would be worth it.

  “All right.” Raine inhaled a shuddering breath and closed her eyes. “I know I’m going to regret this, but okay. Tell her we’ll be there. But,” she said, her brown eyes popping open wide. She jabbed a finger in the center of his chest. “You have to swear on a stack of Holy Bibles that you won’t leave me alone for a second. And if I say I want to leave, we’ll leave. I won’t be treated like the whore of Babylon again.”

  Jarret smiled in amusement. “Any other requests before I let her know to reserve an extra spot at the table?”

  “Yes,” Raine said gravely. “I want to be seated as far away from Camron as possible.”

  Leaning down, Jarret kissed her forehead. “You got it, Peach.”