She giggled, and then pulled him into the kitchen. He couldn’t help but grin at the swooshing sound her pajama footies made over the tile floor.
He sat at the dinette table. “So why are you up so early? Do you have classes today?”
She sighed, pouring a mug of freshly brewed coffee. “No classes. I was trying to paint, but it just wasn’t working. This art show thing is freaking me out.”
“Hm.” He took off his beanie and rested it on the table, then sat back in the chair. She placed a cup of black coffee in front of him. “Want any cream or sugar?”
“Nope. Black is fine.” He sipped it. The rich, earthy aroma made his stomach growl. It had been almost a week since he drank coffee. One of those luxuries he just couldn’t afford.
Maya grabbed a dozen eggs out of the fridge. “I’m going to make some breakfast. Do you like omelets?”
“Like I said—”
“You like anything.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “I remember.”
A fat, orange cat trotted in with a tiny bell hung around its neck that tinkled as it slowed to a casual walk. Jake leaned over and ran his hand over its back. “Nice cat.”
Maya turned, stirring the eggs in a bowl. “That’s Ginger. She’s a little shy with strangers.”
The cat plopped down on top of Jake’s feet and turned belly up, swooshing its tail from side to side. It blinked up at him and meowed. Jake cocked his head. “Doesn’t seem shy.”
Maya crinkled her nose. “That’s so weird. She’s always been freaked out around people she doesn’t know.”
He scratched the cat behind its ear, and glanced up at Maya, who was grabbing a pan out of the bottom cabinet. “Need help?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine. You just relax.”
He stood and wandered around the kitchen, examining the clean, sleek design. Everything was either marble, stainless steel or dark wood. It was the kind of kitchen he had never even dreamed of having. “So your mom just left to work?”
Maya nodded. “She won’t be back until tonight.” She poured the mix of scrambled eggs, scallions, and mushrooms into a hot, buttered pan. It immediately began to sizzle.
He moved behind her, his hands on her hips and his lips beside her ear. “So we’re alone then,” he whispered.
She paused, then slowly turned to face him, her hands braced on the counter behind her. “Mhm.”
He leaned down and kissed her, softly at first. Her hair smelled like citrus and her mouth tasted like mint.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her hands on his back, trailing them down until she found the hem of his shirt. His muscles tightened when she pushed her fingers under his shirt, and skimmed over his abs.
He didn’t know how much longer he could stand being around her like this—feeling her lips, and then thinking about at night. Now the heat in his core was taking control. He gently pushed her hair aside and kissed down her jawline. She tilted her head back. As he kissed down the curve of her neck, she let out a faint sigh that nearly drove him over the edge.
The doorknob rattled. Maya gasped and pushed him away. He nearly stumbled over the chair behind him, but ended up plopping down on it instead. “What’s wrong?”
“My dad!” she whispered harshly, smoothing her hair down fanning herself with her hand.
“I thought he wasn’t supposed to—”
“He wasn’t, but—”
The door pushed open, and Maya’s father stepped inside. He paused when he spotted Jake sitting at the kitchen table.
Jake dropped his head. Not. Good.
“Hey, Dad. Hungry?” Maya tilted the pan toward him, smiling. “I’m making an omelet.”
Her father slowly shut the door. His gaze flickered between her and Jake. “Hi.”
Dad, this is Jake. Jake, my dad.” She continued to watch her father. “Jake just got here a few minutes ago. I invited him for something to eat.”
“Mhm.” Maya’s father stepped forward.
Jake shot out of his chair and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir. Maya’s told me a lot about you.”
Her father shook his hand, hard, and while holding eye contact, didn’t let go. “A pleasure.” He shook Jake’s hand one last time, then pulled back. Her father glanced at Maya. “Where’s your mom?”
“At work. She left not too long ago. Had to be in early today for some kind of meeting before her shift started.”
“Really.” He said it more as a statement than a question.
Jake didn’t want to sit, but at the same time, didn’t know what to do with himself. Jesus. He’d just been feeling up the guy’s daughter in his kitchen. If awkward were tangible, he’d be able to cut it with a knife.
Maya dished out the eggs into three plates and set them on the table. “Coffee?”
Her father turned to Jake. “So tell me again how you know Maya?”
“He’s a friend from school, Dad.” Maya stepped between them and laid some napkins on the table. “If you were around a little more often, you’d know that.”
Her comment seemed to disarm her father. His features softened, and he nodded. “Right. A friend from school.” He sat and picked up a fork, then extended his hand to the empty chair across from him. “Please, have a seat.”
Jake glanced at Maya, and then slowly lowered himself into the chair. Why did he feel like he was facing a firing squad?
Maya sat between them. “So…” She smiled, glancing at them as she stabbed at her eggs. “How’s work been, Dad?”
“It’s work.” He shoved a bite of eggs in his mouth. “Have you talked to your mother lately?”
Maya shook her head. “She’s been working a lot, and I’ve been out a lot. We’ve kinda missed each other.”
Her father nodded. “Well I made arrangements—” He glanced at Jake, then back to Maya, “for a vacation...for her. I think she could use one.”
Maya lowered her fork onto her plate. “What do you mean a vacation?”
He took a sip of his coffee and pushed out of his chair. “We’ll talk later. I’m going to get some sleep. Been up for twenty-four hours, and I have to go back to the base tomorrow.”
Jake stood and extended his hand. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Reed.”
“Lieutenant Reed.”
Jake nodded. “Right. Lieutenant. Sorry.”
Her father turned and walked toward the stairs, leaving Jake with his hand extended.
Damn it. Jake sank back down, his heart racing. Meeting the dad was his least favorite part of the whole girlfriend thing.
His gaze moved to Maya, who smirked, picking at her eggs. She glanced up at him from behind a curtain of thick lashes.
She was worth it.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Maya
“You sure your dad’s okay with this?” Jake asked as he shut her bedroom door behind them.
Maya glanced over her shoulder, grinning. “I’m just showing you my painting.” He stood in the center of her room with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. Somehow the fact that he seemed freaked out by her dad made her want to kiss him even more.
“So this is it?” He gestured toward the easel, and the hideous green streaks painted across it.
She sighed and plopped down on her bed. “Yeah. I should have known better than to even try it without having some kind of direction. It was irresponsible.”
“Irresponsible?” Jake crossed the room and sat beside her. “You talk about it like you don’t enjoy it.”
She shrugged. “I used to. I mean, I still do. It just hasn’t been the same since Gracie. I feel like I’ve lost it.”
He huffed. “No, you haven’t.” He leaned back on his forearms.
“How do you know?”
“I just know. You’ll paint something amazing. Have some faith in yourself.”
She smiled lightly. “How do you always know the right thing to say?”
“Again, raised by a—”
“Single mom.” She nodded. �
�Right.” But he was at least lucky enough to have a mom who cared.
He sat up, analyzing her. “What’s wrong?” There were so many things that were wrong, picking just one would be hard. “Okay. That’s it.” Jake stood and pulled her to her feet. He grabbed a handful of brushes and an assortment of paints, and splayed them out on her dresser. “You’re going to show me how to do this.”
“What?” She watched as he opened a few tubes of acrylic paints, then grabbed a plastic palette. “What are you doing?”
“I have no idea, so you should come help me because I’m about to seriously mess up your painting.”
She blew out a puff of air. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
“I’m sure I can pull it off.” He grabbed a tube of blue and tilted it over the palette. “Last chance.”
She lunged forward and grabbed it. “Okay, fine.” He grinned as if he were satisfied with himself, and then stepped aside. “Why the sudden interest in painting, anyway?” She mixed a few shades of blue and green, and dolloped a bit of white and black on the sides.
“No sudden interest. But you need to remember how to have fun doing this again. Otherwise there’s really no point.” He grabbed a paintbrush. “In Washington, I used to teach this kid across the street how to work on cars. It was fun. So maybe teaching me to paint will get you to loosen up a little and stop looking at this like a responsibility.”
“I guess there’s no harm in trying.”
He loaded paint onto his brush. “Okay. So I just go for it?”
She noticed the huge glob of blue hanging from the end of his bristles. “Well, first.” She took his brush and cleared most of the paint off. “Let’s start small.”
He took the brush back from her. “Right.”
“Now…” She tilted her head, waiting for the canvas to speak to her—tell her what it was supposed to be. “I guess you have to just try to feel it. Imagine what you think the painting should look like—or at least a vague idea. What colors are you attracted to? Do you want it to be dark? Express inner pain?”
“Such angst.”
She giggled. “Shut up.”
“Okay. Here it goes.” He pushed the bristles over the canvas a few times, layering over the streaks of green that were already there, and then loaded the brush with more blue. “Now what?”
She shrugged. “Keep going.”
He did, and right before her eyes, the lines had formed an image—the crude outline of a boat with a large mast. The green streaks she had slopped on morphed into gusts of wind filling the boat’s sails, pushing it through the water.
“That’s…wow. Look what you did.”
“What?”
“You made something ugly into something…sort of beautiful.”
“Really? I didn’t know what else to make.” He set down the brush. She lifted the painting off her easel and extended it to him.
“Here. It’s yours. You should take it home.”
“Okay. I should actually go. I need to get some stuff done.” He took the painting from her, and then leaned in and kissed her. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Moments after he walked out of her room, she, heard the front door open and close, and his car start in her driveway.
Maya sighed. Art had always come so naturally to her. But this damn project… There had to be something there. No canvas was meant to be blank. That would be like a person not having a soul.
She placed a fresh canvas on the easel and sat on her mattress. There was a soft meow, and Ginger slid out from the dark space under Maya’s bed. She squeezed between Maya’s feet. Ginger yawned and blinked up at her.
“Catching another nap?” Maya scratched Ginger between the ears. She purred, and then leapt onto her bed. “I’m really not in the mood to play right now, Ginger.” The cat meowed again. “Come on. Out.” Before she could shoo Ginger off her bed, the cat leapt onto the windowsill.
Maya reached up and buried her fingers in Ginger’s silken belly fur. “You are persistent. I’ll give you that much.”
Movement and color caught Maya’s eye. She looked back at the canvas, where dozens of colorful lights glittered and danced over its blank surface, shifting with her every movement. Maya froze, and then raised her gaze to see the tiny angel charm dangling off her wrist. She’d gotten so used to wearing it, she forgot it was even there. But now the light of the early morning sun passed through the center stone and cast a rainbow of color over the canvas. Maya drew her attention back to the colors. They were so beautiful. Like tiny orbs of light and grace…
Maya tilted her head to the side, peering at the glints of green, pink, and silver, until an image appeared in her mind. She shot to her feet and lifted Ginger off the windowsill, kissing her on the top of her furry head. “You’re a genius!”
Now all she had to do now was paint what she saw.
Maya rested Ginger on her bed and gathered her hair back in a messy bun. If she could pull this off, it would place in the art show for sure.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Jake
Jake parked in his aunt and uncle’s driveway. He sat, staring at the painting he made, propped in the passenger seat.
His focus shifted when the front door opened, and his Aunt Sara stepped out. She crossed her arms, probably cold in the morning air.
He got out of his car and shut the door, looking at her over the hood. “You shouldn’t be out here in your condition.”
She rolled her eyes. “My condition. You’re as bad as Mike.”
He chuckled, walking toward her. “He’s just worried about you. Give him a break.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She turned, and he followed her into the house. “What are you doing here so early?”
He loitered in the entryway. “I was hoping to talk to Uncle Mike about a job.”
Her eyes suddenly saddened. “Oh, honey. The boat. Your uncle told me.” She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him tightly. “I know how much that job meant to you.” She gave him one more squeeze and then backed away. “I’ll go get him.” She turned and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Mike! Get your ass down here!”
Jake cringed as her shout echoed through the house. He smirked. She may have been the complete opposite of his mom, but he loved her all the same.
“Coming, coming,” Uncle Mike mumbled from upstairs. “Damn hormones.” His uncle walked down the last few steps, wearing a pair of taupe slippers and a cotton robe that hung open, showing his T-shirt and pajama pants underneath. “Oh, it’s the bum again.” He patted Jake on the shoulder as he passed, and headed for the kitchen. “I thought I told you I’d kick your ass if you ever came here at the crack of dawn.”
Jake followed him into the kitchen and leaned against the marble counter. “It’s almost ten. I wouldn’t exactly call that ‘the crack of dawn.’”
“Yeah?” Uncle Mike poured a cup of coffee and sipped it. “Say that after spending all night next to a woman who kicks you repeatedly and tears the covers off you twenty times a night.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Damn right.” Jake’s uncle sipped more of his coffee. “So what’s on your mind?”
Jake grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured himself a cup. “Well, I was hoping you heard something about a job.”
“Sorry, bud. Not yet.”
Jake fiddled with the handle of the mug. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I really need work.”
His uncle waved him forward as he walked into the living room. Jake joined him on the couch, the sun pouring in from the large bay window. “Your mother called yesterday. She and Sara talked for almost an hour. Sara says your mom would like you to go home if you can’t find work here. Have you thought about that?”
Jake sipped his coffee. He’d considered every other option up until now. Staying on Kodiak would mean he’d have to find work, but his hope for that possibility had dwindled. Going back home wouldn’t be any better. And as long as his mom needed surgery, he couldn’t rely on something that c
ould fall through. It would be back to living paycheck to paycheck, struggling to survive in a shitty neighborhood. Back to his old life.
“I don’t know.” Jake leaned back on the couch. “Maybe Mom wants me home, but what are we going to do six months from now?”
“Well…” His uncle rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “I have another option. I talked to your aunt, and we decided we could liquidate some of our assets to lend your mom the money for the surgery.”
Jake’s stomach twisted in knots. He’d never been the type to take handouts, and after the multiple runs of hormone treatments his aunt had been through, they were just as strapped for cash as anyone else. “Uncle Mike—”
“Now, just listen.” He set his coffee on the coffee table. “I know you’re a proud young man. I’ve known that since the day you called me and asked for a job a few years ago. You want to do it yourself, and I respect that. But sometimes even a grown man needs some help, and it would only be a loan.”
Jake considered his proposition. “What would you have to do to get the money?”
His uncle shrugged. “Take a second mortgage out on the house. Your aunt said she’d sell some of her jewelry.”
Jake raised his hand. “Just stop there. Not happening.”
“Jake—”
“No, Uncle Mike.” He dropped his hand in his lap. “You and Aunt Sara need all the money you can get with twins on the way. I couldn’t ask you to do something like that.”
“But you know we would.”
“I know, and I—we, appreciate that. But I’ll figure out a way to get the money on my own.”
“And I’ll do the best I can to help you find work.”
Jake nodded. “That’s all I’m asking.”
***
Jake sat in his car, flipped open his phone and called his mom. It had been a few days since they spoke, and it was past time to check in. The phone rang a few times before she picked up. “Well hi, honey.”
“Hey, Mom. How are you doing?”
“Just great. How’s that nice young lady I spoke with on the phone?”
“Maya. She’s great. She asked about you.”
The Edge of You Page 14
