Dear Everly, : a romance novel

by London Casey

  Whatever that meant.

  “So you work at the garage, huh?” Kelly asked, stirring the pot of dumb and awkward conversation, trying to find something that would stick.

  She had really blue eyes and blonde hair pulled back. Everything about her screamed pretty. She was open about herself, no shame in admitting that her last relationship ended badly and she was just trying to have fun and be casual. In other words, two drinks and we could have been rolling around her bed without our strings twisting and entangling together.

  Yet I sat there with a beer that was getting warm like it was my first beer ever and I was afraid of what it would do to me.

  “I sort of run the place,” I said. “Own it, I guess. Me and Mickey.”

  “Oh,” Kelly said. “So you’re the other boss?”

  “That’s what Paul calls me?”

  “He says there’s an old man and an asshole.”

  I grinned. I rubbed my jaw. “Well, I hope I’m not the old man…”

  Kelly laughed.

  A cute laugh.

  A laugh any decent guy would go for.

  To me? It was nails on a chalkboard.

  This dating bullshit was not for me.

  “So, you, uh, Paul said you work at a hair salon?”

  “I sort of run the place,” Kelly said with a smile.

  “Right. Are you the old man or the asshole?”

  She laughed again. “Should we get something to eat? Or something to go?”

  I grabbed my beer mug for the fiftieth time but didn’t lift it off the table.

  “How about we just have another drink?” I asked.

  “I can do that,” Kelly said. She made a sudden move and reached across the table for my hand. “Hey, you don’t have to be afraid.”

  “Afraid?” I asked.

  “Paul told me everything. What happened to you.”

  “What happened to me?”

  “Yeah. Your wife or something died.”

  “Or something,” I said.

  “No, not like that. Wait. I mean… I don’t know if she was your wife. Not that it matters. It’s someone that mattered to you. You had a daughter. Well, you have a daughter still. I’m okay…”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” I said. “So Paul told you all of this?”

  “Yeah. To just warn me.”

  “Warn you.”

  I felt my blood boiling. If Paul thought me fucking up his shirt was bad just wait until I fuck up his face. Telling my shit to some stranger? To warn her?

  “Warn you of what?” I asked.

  “Nothing. Just the story.”

  “The story. So you feel sorry for me? You’re going to sit there and listen to me, know that I’d make a great fuck but nothing more? Is that what it is?”

  “No,” Kelly said.

  Her eyes went wide.

  She was seeing the real side of me. The fucking truth. The way that shit made me feel. There was no escaping it. No hiding it. It was the fucking reason why my daughter thought I went into the basement to scream. Because you know what? Sometimes I did just that. I’d lift weights, or maybe I’d just stand there and yell. Because it felt good. Because I fucking needed it.

  What I didn’t need… was this woman to stare at me like I had two heads. Like she was afraid yet sad at the same time. Like she would now have some story to tell her friends.

  Ohmygod, never date a guy whose wife (or something) died…

  I pulled myself from the booth.

  “This was a bad idea,” I said. I wasn’t sure if I was talking to Kelly or myself.

  “Jake, wait a second,” she said.

  I looked at her. “No. I won’t wait. You’ll never get it. And you deserve better.”

  I reached into my pocket and threw money on the table.

  “Don’t leave,” she said. “You deserve better!”

  I paused for a second, knowing if I spoke it would have been something nasty and mean and hurtful. And I didn’t want to hurt Kelly.

  But her words stung me.

  I deserve better?

  If that was even slightly true… my version of better wasn’t in that bar.

  My version of better…

  … was Emily.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Fine, You’re an Asshole

  (Emily)

  How is Sadie?

  I was surprised that it took Jake so long to check on Sadie.

  She’s great. Sleeping on the couch. I’m enjoying the six dollar movie. #not

  I started to bite at my thumb nail, waiting for his response, if one was going to come. The three little dots popped up and my heart jumped.

  Was this really happening? I was getting excited over text messages? From my neighbor?

  The dots disappeared.

  Then Jake’s message popped up.

  Open your front door princess

  What?

  I looked back at my front door. I looked at the couch. Sadie was still out cold. The movie was just about over.

  I slowly walked to the door and unlocked it.

  I opened it a few inches and flicked on the porch light.

  I covered my mouth to keep from screaming.

  He was so damn hot. It was really unfair.

  Standing in a white shirt that already had stains on it. His arms spilling out of the sleeves of the shirt, hugging his arms tight in a way that made me jealous. Ink cascading down his arms to his hands. His jeans were all ripped up and messy, matching his hair, the scruff on his face, and the look in his eyes.

  Jake lifted up a six pack of beer. And balancing in his other hand was a pizza box.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Making up for something I did wrong tonight.”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  “I need you to come out here, Em. For a minute.”

  “What… you brought beer? Pizza? And your clothes…”

  “I said I would help you paint. I know I’m a few hours behind. Can we talk first?”

  I slowly stepped to the porch.

  “Can I take the pizza at least?” I asked.

  “Not yet. I need to tell you something.”

  “Okay…”

  “And if you get pissed, I’ll take Sadie home and we never talk about this again.”

  “Jake, you’re scaring me a little.”

  “I know,” he said. “I wasn’t out with Paul. I misled you into believing that. I was out on a date, Emily.”

  “You… what?”

  “Paul’s girlfriend’s friend. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I made you a promise and I broke it to go out on a date. And I’m sorry for that.”

  “A date.”

  “I was pissed that you were on a date.”

  “I never went on a date, Jake. I told you-”

  “We don’t have to do this, Emily. This approval shit. I don’t want that. I shouldn’t have done that. You make the noise ease up, Emily. You make the noise go away. Long enough to bring in new noise. And today I opened the door to our bedroom. I haven’t been in there…”

  Jake stopped.

  I felt my heart squeeze.

  “Okay,” I said. “It’s okay, Jake. I promise. It’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay, Emily. See, this is the thing… I can’t get away with this shit. I can’t hurt you. I can’t let you down. And I can’t let you allow me to do it.”

  Jake fell silent.

  “Fine,” I said. “You’re an asshole. You’re fucking rude to me. You make me feel guilty for living here when I’m trying to find my way through my own life. You have no idea what I went through. I want to tell you but I’m afraid I’m going to have to compete with a story I don’t know. And I don’t want to compete about who is in more pain. I’m sure you win, Jake, but that doesn’t lessen my pain. And I think I love your daughter. I try to keep a line there just in case something happens because I could never live with myself if Sadie is ever hurt because of me. Because if there is anything you and I agree on it’s that she de
serves more. I’m honored to give her more but I’m afraid that it’s all…”

  The emotion finally won.

  Jake knew nothing. He didn’t know about all those years ago. What happened to me…

  I touched my stomach and felt ill for a second.

  Jake put the pizza box on the table next to the door. The six pack of beer on top of it.

  “I lost more than you realize,” I whispered. “And there’s no reason for you and I to tip toe around that. Or each other. Don’t lie to me about where you’re going, Jake. I would never…”

  “Would you have been jealous?”

  “Yes,” I said without hesitation.

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to be that person. The one you begin to trust. The one you want to try to figure it out with.”

  “Figure out what?” Jake asked. “You want to figure something out? Figure out this…” He pointed to his right, toward his house. “That driveway. There was a car there. I watched that car back out of the driveway. And someone was behind the wheel of that car. That car drove away and within five minutes, it was over. And I’m still trying to figure out what the fuck happened.”

  Jake inched closer to me. Towering over me. My back against the door.

  I started to shiver. But trust me, it wasn’t from fear.

  “Jake. I would trade everything I have to make that undo itself.”

  “Why? You know nothing…”

  “I know enough,” I said. “Your love for her and Sadie. And Sadie…”

  I felt my bottom lip start to quiver.

  “You lost your mother?”

  I nodded. “I lost everything, Jake. I was raised by my grandmother.”

  I started to shake my head.

  No. I’m not doing this right now. No.

  I turned a little but Jake was too close to me. He stopped me, a hand to my stomach. A gentle force kept me from moving any more even though I could have.

  “So we’re both fucked?” Jake asked me.

  “I guess so.”

  “I’m an asshole, Em.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Thanks for admitting it.”

  “How was the date?” I asked, looking up at him again.

  “Horrible.”

  “Yeah? Why?”

  Jake moved his hand to my chin. Touching. Setting me on fire. Making reality feel more real than anything I’d ever known.

  “Because she wasn’t you. And that scares the fuck out of me a little. Because there’s only supposed to be one love in life. But I’m starting to question that.”

  I swallowed hard, unsure how to take that.

  “So what now?” I asked.

  Jake moved down and his lips touched mine. A soft kiss. A lingering kiss. Just what I needed at that moment.

  The kiss was short lived.

  And Jake gave me my answer.

  “What now?” he asked. “Exactly what I came here for. We’re going to paint.”

  Jake reached up and his shirt lifted up. I stopped with the paint roller against the wall and watched as skin and muscle revealed itself to me. I was gawking, mouth open, ready to start drooling. But, hey, at least there was a drop cloth down.

  He reached all the way to the top of the trim, getting close to the ceiling but never messing up and getting paint behind the edging tape.

  He was perfect at it.

  As he brought the roller down, little dots of tan paint hit his skin, decorating him. He stopped and looked at me.

  “You’re dripping,” he said.

  I gasped.

  My mind played a million images.

  Was I dripping from my mouth? Was I that pathetic and turned on? Was I dripping…

  “The wall?” he said.

  I looked and there were lines running down the wall.

  I hurried to bend my knees and catch them before they started to dry and would leave a forever memory on my wall.

  We were upstairs in the hallway. Directly behind Jake was the bathroom. Next to that a closet. Next to that were two doors, a bedroom in each one. One room was set up as a guest room. The other had my desk, my shelves filled with books, and everything I could do to make it seem like a writer worked there.

  The truth though?

  I never worked in there.

  To my right, at the opposite end of the hall was my bedroom. The master bedroom. I caught myself blushing as I thought about my room, my bed, all the while staring at Jake.

  I put the roller into the paint and slapped it against the wall.

  “First coat is almost done,” Jake said.

  “Is it getting too late?” I asked.

  “For who? Me? You? Sadie is crashed on the couch. I say we keep painting. As long as the beer is cold…”

  I put the roller down and reached for a beer. I waved it at Jake. He gave a nod and I tossed the bottle.

  “Still good,” he said. “No. Wait.” He twisted off the cap and took a drink. “Oh yeah, that’s good.”

  He winked.

  I laughed.

  “I need a break,” I said. “I’m getting exhausted.”

  “So you’re the quitter. Almost midnight, huh, princess? Need to get to your castle and rest your pretty head?”

  “I’m not sure if you’re being nice or mean to me. However, I was the one who had to babysit my neighbor’s kid so he could go out on a date.”

  “Burn,” Jake said.

  “Burn? Did you really just say that?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  He turned to face me. His hand with the roller brush lowered..

  “You know, you could have asked me,” I said, feeling a mix of tired and flirty. Probably more tired, which was more dangerous than being flirty.

  “Oh yeah?” Jake asked.

  “Yeah. You could have asked me on a date. We could have actually done something fun. Something that didn’t make you run.”

  Jake laughed. “If I asked you on a date, Em, who would have watched Sadie?”

  My face dropped. I felt my lip curl. Joking or not, that was a low blow.

  “You know, you really are an asshole, Jake,” I said. “I should have just minded my own business. And I know, you told me to. Many times. But I just thought…”

  I lost the words for a second.

  That was all Jake needed.

  He dropped the paint roller into the pan. Paint splattered all over the drop cloth. He stepped over the pan, a paint can, all our supplies. He killed the distance between us in record time, scooped me up by my waist and put me against the opposite wall.

  Holding me up so that I was eye level with him, my hands grabbing at his arms, feeling them flex as he held me, showing off that wild strength. Not to mention that wild gaze in his eyes.

  “If I ever asked you on a date, princess, every little line between us would get fucking destroyed. And then what? You think you can handle that life? Dealing with me? Wanting to be a mother to Sadie? Tough little princess, aren’t you?”

  “Why don’t you shut the fuck up about what you think I’m capable of and what you think I want.”

  “Feisty tonight, Em,” Jake whispered.

  “Try me,” I whispered.

  I tried to play it cool but my body was on fire. I was shivering in all the right places, no matter how wrong it felt. The way we stared at each other. The way the left side of his mouth curled up a little.

  The way he came in and kissed me…

  It wasn’t just any kiss, but a kiss that meant something. Something really scary. Something deeper than just being neighbors and helping each other and trying to navigate the choppy waters of tragedy.

  But all of that was kicked away when Jake broke the kiss.

  His nose touching mine.

  “One last chance to run, Em… and if you’re not going to run then point to the door that has your bed in it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  All the Things at Once

  (Jake)

  I didn’t want to think about
the last time I touched a woman the way I was touching Emily. I didn’t want to think about the last time I tossed a woman to a bed just for some mindless sex. I didn’t want to think of anything…

  I broke the kiss as I stood at the edge of Emily’s bed.

  Just the look from her eyes was enough to chase all that shit away.

  Emily grabbed her shirt and ripped it over her head. My hands touched her skin. The warmth and softness of her sides, the way her body curved at the right spot giving way to her hips. My fingertips quickly came forward and opened her pants. Her hands clutched at my shirt as she let out a groan.

  “How long, Em?” I whispered.

  I came forward and kissed her chest, above her breasts as they pressed against her bra. She was beautifully full, the blue lace keeping her from being exposed, but not for long. I trailed kisses up to her neck as my hands eased around to her hips and pushed, sliding her pants down.

  She quickly stepped and kicked her pants away.

  I broke away from her again for a second to admire her.

  “Off,” she said, tugging at my dirty shirt.

  I used my hand to reach across my body and take my shirt off. Her mouth opened wide, matching her eyes, her hands touched my shoulders, following the tattoos from my shoulders to my chest. Yes, every tattoo had a story. Yes, some were done before everything happened, some after. Not that it mattered right then.

  With my right pointer finger, I reached for her chin.

  I made her look at me. “Answer me, Em. How long?”

  She kept going down, her nails like tiny daggers, scratching with the notion that with just a little force she could slice me open. But the thing is… she had already sliced me open. Getting through skin was one thing, but Emily got through to my heart. The empty hole in my chest, she managed to find something lingering there.

  I grabbed her by the waist as her hands flirted with the top of my jeans.

  My hands slid to her ass and I lifted her. I pushed forward and took her down to the bed.

  Her back hit the bed and I hovered over her. My left hand was flat against the bed. Her hands reached for the sheets as she knew I was in complete control.