“Hey, just thinking here. You were only twenty-three then. Why would you propose—” Ben stopped, his quick mind running through the possibilities. “Oh, wait. Don’t tell me she was—”
Jeremy dropped the coins into his pocket and steepled his hands, amazed by how calm he felt. Maybe time did heal all wounds? “So she said.”
“What?”
“She lied. There was no baby.”
“Why would a rich girl want to trap you, a kid from Starling with little more than a high school education? No offense, of course, but logistically, it doesn’t add up.”
“Man, I knew I should have confided this in you. Probably would’ve saved me a lot of trouble.” He shook his head. “But I was stupid in love and I believed her. I wanted our baby. I wanted to be together, to be there for her. I thought she loved me, too.”
“So that’s why you quit all those part-time jobs that allowed you to write and took that full-time one at the refinery?”
He nodded. “Health benefits.”
Ben set his beer on the coffee table, untouched. “Why tell me now?”
“I’m ready for a change.” Jeremy stood and moved to the front door. “Come on over to my house. I’ve got something to show you.”
“Uh, okay.” His friend rose and walked into the kitchen. “I’ve got a feeling this is going to be good.”
Jeremy waited at the front door.
Ben joined him a few moments later with house keys and cell phone in hand. “I’ll text Jade and let her know.”
“Don’t—” Jeremy stopped himself from telling Ben to lie to his wife. “Sorry. Habit. Tell her the truth. She’ll be pissed, but I’ll deal with it. I figure now’s about as good a time as any to stop hiding.”
“Good for you.” Ben closed the door to his modern log cabin behind them. “So you say this confession is all about a woman you’ve been seeing.” He smiled. “I’m liking her already. Look forward to meeting her.”
His house was only about five minutes away from Ben’s around the windy country mountain roads, but now that he’d made up his mind about letting his friend in on his real life, he wanted it over as soon as possible.
He took Ben on the short tour, ending back in his kitchen, and waited.
His friend let out a long, low whistle. “Oh yeah, your sister’s going to be peeved all right. You’ve had your entire family worried about you all these years, thinking you lived in some kind of hovel. A solarium, top-of-the-line media room, chef’s kitchen…” His voice trailed off as he crossed his arms and leaned back on his heels. “You’ve got some ’splaining to do,” he said in a sing-song voice.
“I know, I know,” Jeremy agreed, the ramifications of his choices hitting him square in the chest.
“Maybe you could invite us all over for Sunday dinner.” Ben glanced around. “The women will love cooking in a set-up like this.”
“Uh, well, about that.”
Ben pointed a finger in his direction. “Don’t tell me you’re a bona fide chef or something crazy like that.”
He nodded, a bit sheepish.
“Are you kidding me?” Ben chuckled. “Well then, I amend my suggestion to include a five-star meal prepared by you.”
Jeremy scrubbed his chin and crossed his arms, pretending to consider it. “Done.”
“Then all should be forgiven.” Ben paused. “Oh, and of course, you must invite the guest of honor, the woman who convinced you to quit the hermit life.”
Just like that, Jeremy’s balloon of well-being burst. He moved to the fridge to grab the pitcher of lemonade. “Uh, not sure about that.”
“Why not?”
“Part of the reason I told you about Ashleigh was because she and Elizabeth have a lot in common when it comes to family. They both come from money, used to a certain way of life. Completely different world than mine.”
“Afraid of making the same mistake?”
“Elizabeth doesn’t look down on me, but I can just about guarantee her parents will disapprove of me.”
Ben crossed his arms. “Do you love her?”
He shrugged. “We just met a few weeks ago. Too soon to tell.”
“Does she know about your alcoholism or that girl, Ashleigh?”
He shook his head.
“Have you met any of her family?”
“No, but she’s told me all about them. They seem close.” Like his family had been before he pulled away.
“Okay then. Do you want to have more than a casual fling with her?”
“If she wants anything to do with me after I tell her the truth, I’d like to give it a shot.”
Ben nodded. “I think the truth is a great start. Go from there, get to know each other. Your idea of inviting her to Holly Point is perfect. Trial by fire.” He laughed. “If she survives that weekend with all of us and still wants to be with you, I think you’ll have more than a shot at success.”
“What about her family?”
“Hey, your mother hated me, but once Jade realized she loved me, she stood up to her and let her know the deal. A girl who truly loves you will do the same for you. No matter the cost.”
Could he see Elizabeth standing up to her family for him? Or more important, did he deserve that kind of loyalty. He shook his head. Damn. He had a lot of thinking to do. There would be a bunch of hurdles ahead for them if he continued pursuing her, one of the biggest being his alcoholism. So many of his friends from AA talked about girlfriends or boyfriends that couldn’t overcome that one. Could he and Elizabeth? Even if he bared his soul and let her into his world, there was no guarantee he’d fit into hers…as much as he and she may want him to be part of it.
Ben’s cell phone chimed and his friend checked it, holding up a finger signaling him to wait. “It’s my wife,” he announced with pride before walking into the solarium to chat.
While Ben was out of the room, Jeremy rehearsed in his mind how he’d break the news to her.
A few minutes later, his buddy returned.
“What’d she say?” Jeremy asked.
“About what?”
“This.” He swept his arm wide to encompass his home.
“Oh, that’s going to be all your pleasure, my friend. I’m not telling her. I did share with her that you’d be inviting the entire family to your house on Sunday though, so be prepared.”
Jeremy nodded as they both walked to his front door. “Fair enough. Thanks. For everything.”
“You know I’m here for you. Just say the word. In the meantime, good luck with Elizabeth. I hope it all works out. If she’s meant to be with you, it will happen. Have faith, buddy.” With that, Ben closed the door, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
Faith.
He once had the strong, unwavering kind, but it had died somewhere after Ashleigh’s leaving, taking his blind trust with it. Two years later, he’d woke up in the woods after a three-day bender, the same night Ben had tricked him into attending his own intervention where his entire family told him what a disappointment he was to them and how he’d basically lied, cheated, and stolen from each one of them during his descent into addiction. That had been his darkest day. He’d had to admit he had lost all self-control and was a drunk. It was also the beginning of his new life.
He could live just fine without blind trust, but he could use a little dose of faith. Was it possible to regain it after all these years? There was only one way to find out. He was going to share his world with Elizabeth, and see where it led.
He could only hope they wouldn’t end up breaking each other’s hearts, although he suspected the odds were stacked against them.
*
Jeremy glanced around the foyer of the house he’d driven past for years but had never stepped inside. All he’d known was the home was once owned by a couple from DC. He’d never seen them, although he’d spotted a BMW in the drive during the occasional holiday weekends or in early fall during peak Adirondack foliage. The inside was as beautiful as the outside, the tone and furnishings
trendy beachside chic. But all thoughts of the house fled his mind when he spied Elizabeth at the top of the wide staircase, wearing a polka dot sundress and a radiant smile. “Hey,” he called to her.
“Hello you.” She raced down the stairs in her flip flops, greeting him with a flying leap, wrapping her legs and arms around him and nuzzling her head against his neck. “I missed you.”
“You too.” His dragged his lips across the side of her cheek, breathing in her familiar scent. He was tempted to skip the conversation he dreaded and take her there, right against the wall. It was far easier to communicate with his body than with words when it came to women.
“That was a long twelve hours.” She tapped him lightly on the nose and traced his lips with her index finger.
He nipped her roaming finger playfully. Damn, they’d spent every summer within twenty minutes of each other. Why couldn’t they have met each other before he was damaged goods? Then he wouldn’t be stuck having to rebuild his life and make amends to all those he’d let down.
She wiggled in his arms, pressing her curves flush against his hardness.
He growled in frustration. “Listen, before you cast your magic spell on me and I forget all my good intentions, there’s something we need to discuss.” He swallowed the sudden ache at the back of his throat.
She nodded and slid down his length, a pucker of worry crossing her face.
He let her lead the way into a large, open-layout kitchen, enjoying the swish of her dress against her legs. Any other day he wouldn’t fight his nature, but tonight they had to clear the air before hitting the sheets again.
If she still wanted him after their talk.
She bent over to check the contents of the fridge. “Want a drink?”
“Any soda?”
She shook her head. “Sorry. I have wine or beer.” She stood. “Unless you want a cocktail?”
“Water’s fine.” He stuffed his hands into jeans pockets and wandered through the large house until he discovered a den decorated in soft browns and blues with wide white-washed floorboards. The colors were soothing to his ragged soul. He sat on the end of an oversized sofa, as good a place as any for what he needed to say.
She appeared with a soft smile and tossed him one of the water bottles in her hand before sitting on the edge of the sofa next to him. “I’ve been wondering about this conversation all day.” She bit her lip. “I hope it’s not because I’ve been…insensitive.” Her eyes were tinged with regret.
He locked eyes with her, suddenly filled with the belief that all this turmoil to be with her would be worth the hell he was going through right now. He shook his head. “It’s not about you. It’s me. I’m sorry for making you wait. I should’ve told you last night.”
She reached out a hand.
He glanced at her hand covering his. He placed his other hand over hers. It felt so good to have a woman caring for him. Could it last? He swallowed again and glanced up at her. “You may not like what I have to share.”
“Then don’t tell me.” She laughed then stopped; her expression stoic. “No, tell me. It can’t be that bad. Right?” She tilted her head as she nibbled her lip nervously.
He looked her in the eye. “It’s pretty bad, but I need to tell you.”
Worry lines creased her forehead. “Then just tell me. We’ll handle it.”
We’ll handle it? Sweet baby Jesus. Something shifted inside him, rearranged his perspective of the world and his place within it. Elizabeth and he would handle it. She may be a trust fund baby like Ashleigh, but the similarity between them ended there. Ashleigh was selfish and Elizabeth was giving. The woman sitting next to him was good to him, good for him.
He slowly slid his hands out of the comfort of hers and twisted off the water bottle’s cap, his mind made up. “Remember when I told you I’d been in the accident?”
She nodded, her hands clenching her unopened water bottle between her knees.
“I had a lot of injuries. A broken back, fractured pelvis, left femur, and left wrist.”
“That must have been awful.” Her eyes filled with unshed tears.
He took a gulp of water. The physical pain had been nothing compared to the ripping out of his heart that had preceded it. But after his talk with Ben this afternoon, he’d decided Elizabeth didn’t need to be burdened with that part of his story. It was the past. Ashleigh couldn’t hurt him anymore. He was over it. Time had healed that wound and brought him a new life, one that might include the fantastic woman sitting next to him. If only she could accept him—recovery coins and all.
“I saw your scars,” she murmured.
He took another deep swallow, the water refreshing his dry throat. “After the accident, my doctors prescribed a bunch of painkillers. There were skin grafts, surgeries, and physical therapy.” He stared at the bottle in his hand. “I hated taking them. They made me loopy, and all I wanted to do was sleep all the time. I was afraid of getting addicted.” He let out a harsh laugh. “So I drank instead. I lost two years of my life.”
“Oh.” Her eyes grew wide. “Oh.” Comprehension dawned.
“I’ve been sober almost four years.” He looked away, unable to face the moment her interest in him evaporated.
He felt her weight shift on the sofa, held his breath, and waited. Was she going to give him a chance or show him the door? He squeezed his eyes shut. He’d be fine, either way. He knew how to live on his own. He’d done fine for four years, he’d be fine again. One day at a time.
A small, warm hand touched his knee. “You’re so brave,” she whispered. “Thanks for telling me.”
He dropped his head in relief and released his breath. He met her eyes. “You don’t seem shocked.”
She smiled sadly. “No.”
“Typical for a bad boy like me?”
“Actually, I’d been confused about why I recognized that look in your eyes when we first met. That night at the beach.”
“You too?”
She nodded, her kind eyes unwavering.
He shook his head. Now it was his turn to be confused. How could a perfect creature like Elizabeth understand a wretch like him? “I don’t understand.”
“I’m saying, I get it.” She set her water bottle on a small table next to them before she continued. “I understand addiction.” She hesitated, as if struggling how to put her thoughts into words. “As you know since I rambled on about my family last night, my parents were hardcore athletes and they didn’t quit after the ’80 Winter Olympics. Mother did the professional skating circuit before settling in as a US coach with Dad. They’re all about hard work and success. Control. Being the best. Don’t get me wrong. They’re wonderful. I love them more than I can bear and they would do anything for me.” Her breath hitched. “I doubt I’d be alive today without their love and support.”
The thought of a world without Elizabeth shook him, pulled him out of himself. “What happened?”
She took a deep breath. “I was quite competitive. I’m the oldest in my family. Have two sisters and a younger brother. I also felt I needed to be the perfect child. So, I went away to Harvard and it was strange, going from being the big fish in a little pond to a little fish in an ocean. I struggled with some of my courses and friendships. It was a domino effect. To gain control, I began exercising. Then I started dating a guy who liked his girlfriends—me, at the time—to be thin. Skinny. That only fed my problem. I would eat then feel compelled to work out, then eat and work out. It got to the point that I was exercising three hours or more a day. I couldn’t eat without going to the gym immediately afterward, but I was never good enough, could never lose enough fat, make enough muscle. My goal weight became a moving target I never reached, never satisfied.”
A helpless feeling washed over him. “Purging.”
“Exactly, the calories I used had to equal the ones I consumed. I never threw up, but it pretty much had the same effect on my body.”
“When did you figure out you had a problem?” he asked, ne
eding to know for himself as much as to let her share her burden with him.
“I saw a photo of myself and someone made a wisecrack that I looked like a beaver. My face was so thin, my bones showed through my arms and I had almost no thigh fat.”
He shook his head. “I would’ve never guessed it in a million years. Your body is ridiculous, and I’ve explored every inch.”
She blushed. “Anyway, I had to stop exercising for a few years, stopped counting calories and being a slave to the scale. My parents still worry, especially since, rather ironically, I chose to start an athletic clothing business. Add to that I began running again last year.”
“Yeah, what about that?” He took a sip of water. “Wouldn’t that kind of be like me owning a bar?”
“I figured it was a good way to prove to myself and the world I’d conquered the problem. The business doesn’t control me, I control it.”
“There’s the difference between you and me. I can’t have one sip, one drink, or I risk going on a bender and losing everything I’ve worked so hard to regain. I’m one drink away from destruction.”
“But you beat it,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You did it. You’re doing it, day by day.”
He shook his head in wonder. “We make quite a pair, don’t we?”
“I think so. It’s a choice we have to make each day, and we can do this.”
He let out a huge exhale, relief filling him. “I’m glad I told you.”
“I would’ve figured it out sooner or later, you know.” She opened her water and took a long swallow, giving him a wink.
“You’re an amazing woman.”
“Yes, I’m amazing, because guess what I’ve got.” She jumped up to lead the way back to the kitchen. “Want one?” She pulled a Main Street Café bag of chocolate chip cookies out of a cupboard near the fridge.
He bridged the distance between them. “C’mon here, you.”
The look in her eyes as he swept her into his arms squeezed his heart. Maybe there was a chance for him after all.
Chapter Ten
‡
Yes, they were quite a couple, Elizabeth thought, as he held her close. Jeremy’s confession had shocked her at first, until she took a few moments to reflect on his behavior at the restaurant the other night. Now it made sense why he’d brought her back to his house instead of going to hers. It was his way of connecting with her while on his home turf. He hadn’t told her about the woman she was certain must have shattered his heart into pieces, which was making her job of breaking down his emotional barriers all the more difficult, but tonight’s conversation gave her hope that he would. Someday. He’d shared one of his major demons, giving her the courage to share hers. Her eating disorder was a part of her life she rarely talked about, and certainly never with someone outside her family.
His Kiss (Summer in New York Book 2) Page 9
