by Nicole Helm
“I could lie. I could probably even sweep you off your feet. I could hide it all under the fake guy you see through anyway. I’m scared. Your health struggles will always scare me, but it’s because I love you. We could walk away right now, and I’ll probably still be the asshole yelling in the waiting room.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“No, it’s supposed to be the truth. This is our obstacle. But it’s...weird because it might not happen. Maybe it pops up tomorrow, maybe in a few years. Maybe I get sick and die first. We don’t know where this obstacle lands and jams tight, but I think we have time. I think we have time to learn how to crawl over it.”
“Maybe I don’t know how.”
“Then we should figure it out together.”
Her heart hammered in her chest because...that sounded so good she could cry, but could she really just...believe? Believe they’d figure it out? Hope her future health problems wouldn’t be too terrible? Hope if she went a little too far at work he wouldn’t explode?
That seemed awfully...optimistic, but was that really the end of the world?
* * *
JACOB DIDN’T KNOW what else to say as Leah looked at him with wide, watery eyes. He’d laid it all out. Every last ugly piece of himself, and he felt as if he had some kind of gaping wound and his guts were flopping around on the floor.
But she didn’t say anything and he didn’t know how else to make her see. He just had to stand here and wait and hope the words mattered enough. Were honest enough to win.
“I... What...” She looked up at the ceiling. “Jacob. I’d hate to see us just keep hurting each other over and over.”
“Why?” She made a little outraged sound and he pushed forward. “Life does plenty of hurting. I am an expert at running away from it, but all it seems to do is catch up with me. So maybe it’s time to take the good even if bad comes along with it.”
She pressed a hand to her chest, right where her scar was. The heart that wasn’t hers, that might give out too soon. Might. But for now... He put his hand over hers.
Her shoulders slumped. “You shouldn’t be scared all the time. I shouldn’t put that on you.”
“You’re not. I am.” He turned her palm so it touched his, linking fingers. “We could walk away, see other people, but you’re still my electrician. You’re still my friend. And, no matter what happened, you’ll always be someone I love. So, here’s the deal—I’d be scared. Together or not. It’s inevitable, unchangeable. You sealed that deal when you agreed to take a job with me.”
“So it’s my fault?”
“Absolutely. I blame it all on you.” He took the last step so they were toe to toe, his mouth not too far from hers. He’d only have to nod, but it wasn’t time for that yet.
Her throat moved as she swallowed, her eyes not leaving his. “I do...love you.”
“I know.”
“B-but sometimes love isn’t enough or the only thing.”
“I know that, too. It won’t be perfect. But Kyle said something that made me think...”
“Kyle?”
Jacob managed his first smile of the evening. “Believe it or not. He is quite wise in the ways of love.”
Leah wrinkled her nose, which made him laugh for the first time in a few days. It felt rusty and good—damn good. “The point is, I asked him how he changed for Grace. Because I thought that’s what I had to do for you.”
“I don’t want you to—”
“Hush,” he interrupted, gratified when she scowled at him. “But he said it wasn’t so much change as being honest. Honest about the obstacles and deciding if you wanted to beat them. I want to. Anything that comes up, I want to find a way to get around it with you.”
She was quiet. The entire house was quiet. He could hear a clock ticking from the living room and someone rev their engine outside. He could hear his breathing and hers, but she didn’t speak or move.
“I need to know one thing first,” she finally said on little more than a whisper.
“Anything.”
“What did you do with the trumpet?”
He grinned, dropping her hand and pulling the little figurine out of his pocket. “Right here, baby.”
“Damn it.” She blinked a few times, eyes intent on the trumpet before she lifted her gaze to him. “I...don’t know. I don’t know what the right thing to do is.”
“Maybe there isn’t really a right thing. No blueprint. No right answer. Maybe it’s just a risk you have to take. We have to take because we’re more interested in being together than being right.”
“Jacob McKnight telling me there’s no blueprint. Is this an alternate dimension?”
“Leah.”
“I...” She closed her eyes briefly, then focused in on him. “Okay, this is about telling the truth? The truth is you scare me because sometimes I do get to thinking you’re perfect, even though I know you’re not. And...I’m not perfect. I don’t try to be. I don’t want to be. And I don’t want to be defined by my health, but I can’t ignore that it’s a part of me or factors into my decisions.”
Hesitantly, her hands rested on his chest. “But I love you. And that is kind of, well, like you said, not something that’s going away any more than my health problems.”
“Are you calling me a health problem?”
She didn’t laugh, but she almost smiled. “I’m saying...you’re right, Jacob. Possibly two of my most hated words in the English language. You’re right—my feelings won’t go away. You’re right—you don’t have to be perfect and you’re right that being with you is more important to me than being right.”
“Even when I act like an asshole?”
“Don’t think I won’t kick your ass to the curb if you’re too much of one.” Her hands traveled up his chest, to his shoulders, then his neck. “But you’re not. You’re a good man. And I love you. And I was wrong to walk away. I was wrong to back down.”
“Not totally.”
“No, it was wrong, because I told you you didn’t have to be perfect, and I meant it.” Her hands moved to his face. “Now I think we’re done talking.”
“We a—”
She cut him off with a kiss. One he gladly sank into, sliding his hands into her hair, pressing her against the front door.
All the tension inside him released, and even as foolish as it was, he really did feel as if he could face anything as long as he had her. To yell at him when he was being an ass, to give him a hard time, but most of all to love him even when he wasn’t perfect.
“You know, I did have a few more things to say,” he murmured when she broke the kiss.
“Jeez, you’re talkative tonight.”
“I know I said no blueprints, but...” She groaned as he pulled an actual blueprint out of his back pocket.
“You want to talk about work now?”
He smiled. “No. Not exactly, anyway. This is the blueprint to the Jasmine Street house.”
“I’m really failing to see how this is not work related.” But she was looking over the paper as he unfolded it, eyes eager and assessing.
“I was thinking...this could be our project.”
She looked from the blueprint to him. “Ours?”
The nerves that had washed away with her acceptance of his apology resurfaced, but he powered on. “Like, we could plan it together. And...live in it together when it was done. I’m selling the big house. This’ll be the office. And, well, if you plan it with me, it would be ours. A blueprint we make together.”
She just stared at him for the longest time, not saying anything. He wanted to prompt her into saying something, anything, but he forced himself to wait.
“So, like, I could say, I want that wall torn down and a door put in the back. You’d just...do it?”
“Um, no. You will suggest that, and we will discuss it and determine if it’s feasible and reasonable. Together.”
Her mouth quirked into a smile. “Together, huh?”
“Compromises and all that.”
She nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck. “A blueprint we make together.”
“Exactly.”
He could see her swallow, eyes all shiny, but no tears. He hoped they could be done with tears for a while.
“I think that sounds...perfect.”
He grinned. “Probably not perfect. But good. Really good.”
And she pressed her lips to his and it was good, and maybe even a little perfect.
EPILOGUE
“THIS BETTER BE GOOD,” Leah yelled into the Jasmine house. Jacob had texted her to meet him here and now she couldn’t find him despite his truck out front. She’d been in this itchy floral-print dress all day for Grace’s bridal shower and she was so over it.
The bridal shower had been nice. Fun, even. Good to see Mrs. McKnight really looking stronger every day now that she’d finished her chemo treatment. Great to see Grace all giddy and happy.
But that didn’t make this ridiculously girlie dress she’d been forced to wear any more comfortable.
“Jacob?” Oh, where the hell was he? Demanding she come over without changing and now he was nowhere to be seen. The house was dark except for the kitchen in the back. She stood there and pulled out her phone, but before she could bring up the window to text him she noticed lights outside.
She stepped into the backyard. The trees were just beginning to tinge with the colors of fall. The setting sun cast an orangish glow to the yard, which had been a mess of overgrown grass and bushes the last time she’d seen it.
There were a lot of new additions to the backyard as well, but the one that stopped her short was her work shed being right there in the corner of the yard, a string of twinkling lights around the roof.
She stepped toward it, hugging her arms around herself. The early fall evening was cooling off rapidly.
When she stepped inside, Jacob was sitting at her workbench. Everything was irritatingly organized and clean looking, but she supposed she’d give him a pass since he had moved her work shed across town.
“Hi,” he greeted her with a smile, as if this was a normal everyday thing.
“What in the hell are you doing?”
He grinned. “You know, somehow I knew you wouldn’t greet me with ‘Hello, darling, I’ve missed you all day.’”
“You’re in my workshop. Which is not...where it’s supposed to be.”
He pushed to his feet. He was wearing his nice jeans, the dark green button-down shirt that made his eyes look so pretty. When she’d told him that, he’d vowed to never wear it again out of protest at being called “pretty.”
What was going on here?
“We got an offer on the big house,” he said, crossing the small space to her. “For the asking price.”
“Whoa.” The asking price was nothing to sneeze at.
“I know. A little soon, but...” He shrugged. “We’ve got enough done here to make it work.”
“You mean move in. Together.”
“Don’t pretend you’re freaked out. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t spend the night at your house, and this has been the plan since—”
“Not that, you idiot.” She shoved him out of the way and pointed accusingly at the empty wall in the back.
“What?”
“Where’s Joe?” She wagged her finger at the conspicuous empty spot. “He was right there yesterday.”
“Come on, now.”
“Put Joe back and nobody gets hurt.”
“I was hoping you’d want to put something else up there. Like, I don’t know, pictures of people you actually know. Maybe pictures from Grace’s wedding...our wedding...”
“From—” She blinked at him, but he just stood there as if he’d stopped talking after “Grace’s wedding.” “Um.”
And then he grinned, picking a velvet box up off her workbench. She hadn’t noticed that when she’d walked in.
“Um.”
“You can’t be surprised.”
“Of course I am!” She backed away from him. Velvet box. Wedding. Um. She wasn’t surprised he was asking. She was just surprised he was asking at this moment. In her work shed. In the yard at the Jasmine house.
Their house.
She thought there’d be buildup. Warning. But she’d been so wrapped up in work and bridesmaid duties...
“I need to sit down.” She found a spot on her bench. But then he knelt on one knee in front of her. “Oh, shit, don’t do that.”
He chuckled, but he didn’t get up. Instead, he took her hand. “Leah.”
“No. No. Don’t be all romantic. I’ll cry.”
“You’ll survive, baby.”
“Jacob—”
“Will you please be quiet so I can do this properly? And please note I said ‘please.’”
Leah bit her lip. Okay. She could do this. Be proposed to. She just had to sit there and possibly stop swearing at him.
“Leah, pain in my ass, love of my life—”
“Hey!”
“I love you. Being with you makes me happy, even when you are a pain in the ass. Because I admire your strength, I am in awe of you on a daily basis. It won’t always be easy, it won’t always be perfect, but for the rest of our lives I want to climb over any obstacles with you. As husband and wife.”
She didn’t cry. Probably because she was determined not to. But if she talked, she might. And what was more, she didn’t have his way with words, and it was pointless to try to match that. So she kissed him instead. As earnestly as he’d spoken, with as much love as she could muster.
She pulled back, running her palms over his beard. “Jacob, I know we’ve talked about it, but the no-kids thing...”
He raised an eyebrow, because they had talked about it. A lot, actually, because for her that had been a big sticking point before he’d even started thinking about an engagement. She wanted to make sure they were on the same page. That no kids was really something he could live with.
And he’d convinced her. That his life could be just as rich and fulfilled without a child of his own. He’d probably be an uncle. He could get involved with kids’ organizations. He had promised that she—that they—were enough. And she believed him.
“Okay, I won’t bring it up again. But if you ever feel—”
“Are you going to answer my question before you bring up everything else we’ve already decided on?”
“It’s important.”
“It is, but I also weighed it against other important things. You’re important. We’re important. I’m good, and I’m asking to build a life with you knowing full well what that entails.”
Her heart ached, but in that good way he made her feel. As though she was so damn lucky to have found him and this.
“All right, let’s see it.”
Jacob tsked. “You really need to work on your romance tolerance.” But he flipped open the lid to a slim band. It didn’t have just one diamond, but a ring of them encrusted against the silver. Something simple and wearable for work.
She had no doubt he’d done that on purpose. And that he would take that kind of care was something that would never fail to make her swoony.
“I love you,” she said, framing his face in her hands.
“And I love you. Always.” He lifted her hand to his lips, pressed a kiss to her palm before sliding the ring onto her finger. Then he glanced back at the empty wall. “Now, about that Joe Mauer poster...”
“Joe stays.” She leaned her head onto his shoulder. “And so will you.” Of that, she had no doubt.
>
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from RECLAIMING THE COWBOY by Kathleen O’Brien.
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CHAPTER ONE
IT WAS A MEAN March midnight, the road a sludgy river of asphalt oozing in slow loops under an icy moon. Mitch Garwood’s mood was sour and his face frost-burned as he rumbled up to the back door of his cottage, one of the six they’d recently finished on the eastern edge of Bell River Ranch.
Tilting off his helmet with one hand, he twisted the key with the other, silencing the growling motorcycle before any of the adjoining guests woke up and complained. Although why they should sleep soundly when he knew darn well he wouldn’t...
Still astride the bike, he stared at the dark windows of the cottage, envisioning the cold, half-empty spaces within. A bed. A sofa. A bookcase. A refrigerator full of bottled water and blackening guacamole dip. Six hours of tossing and turning...alone...till dawn, when he could finally get up and distract himself with work.
This was a life?
It was his choice, of course. He’d never been forced to be alone, not since he hit puberty and discovered that rusty-brown hair and a few freckles over a goofy grin actually appealed to some females.
He definitely hadn’t needed to be alone tonight. At least fifty bored women from a cosmetics convention in Crawford had jammed into the Happy Horseshoe Saloon. Two-thirds of them were nice, half of them were hot and at least two of them were both.
