My eyes widened, and I picked my bag off the floor. Had he been awake?
“It was good,” I said, cautiously turning around to face him.
He sat up, scrubbed the sleep from his face, and looked at me expectantly. “Oh yeah?”
I shifted to my other foot. “I got the job.”
“I knew you would.” He smiled sleepily and sat forward. He didn’t look like he knew I’d just lusted over him like a psycho while he slept. My shoulders relaxed.
“The only thing is,” I bit my lip apprehensively, “he wants me to buy a new lens.”
His brows furrowed, and he placed the binder on the coffee table. “Do you need money?”
“Oh no, that’s not it at all. I have the money, but I’d planned to use it for an apartment after landing the job.”
“You know you can stay here as long as you need.”
“I know.” I shifted my eyes to the floor, somehow feeling sad when I knew I should be happy. I found a job in this messed up economy. Even if my plans had changed, I should have felt lucky when so many people were unemployed.
“Are you still worried about Grace?” His voice held an edge that made me glance up.
I shook my head. “No.”
“Then what’s wrong?” He came toward me and rested a hand along my neck.
“I don’t know. It’s just that nothing in my life ever goes as planned. I’ve given up everything, and it’s never enough.” I was feeling sorry for myself, and I knew it didn’t make any sense, but deep down I think I wanted him to know all that had happened since we were apart—just like I wanted to know everything that happened to him.
His mouth set in a firm line, but his eyes were kind. “What’s not enough, sweetheart?”
I blinked back tears. “I sold Dave’s baseball cards, Jake.” The words poured out like a confession. “I didn’t have a choice.” I shook my head. “I had no savings, I used all my credit hiring the PI, and it was the only thing I had that would sell quickly enough.” I searched his face, waiting for the disappointment I was sure to come. They’d built that collection together since they were boys. Spent endless hours mowing lawns to afford them, but all I saw reflected in his blue eyes was sadness.
“You should’ve called me. I could have helped you.”
My throat burned, and I continued on as though he hadn’t spoken. “Once I have the money I’ll get them all back. Every last one of them. I promise.”
He searched my face. “Why didn’t you come to me, Katie?”
I looked down at the floor, willing the tears not to spill over. “What? So you could rush to my aid and fix everything for me?” My tone was harsher than I intended. I wasn’t being fair, but I was tired of being the girl people took care of. I’d never wanted that, and I certainly didn’t want it from him. “I’m a grown woman. It’s time I start figuring things out for myself.”
He removed his hand and let it drop to his side. “Asking for help doesn’t make you a failure.”
“When’s the last time you let someone help you?” I challenged.
His eyes shifted to the window, and something in his expression made my heart constrict. “Friends have helped me a lot over the years.”
Friends. But not me. My stomach twisted. I wasn’t there. “I’m sorry, Jake.”
“For what?” He looked back at me.
“Acting like this.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners, and he reached up to touch my face again.
“It’s just hard for me. Taking from people.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to pay you back for everything.”
“I know.”
“And I’m going to start by making dinner tonight.”
He arched one brow, and I ducked under his arm to grab my bag by the front door.
“Trust me. You’ll love it.” I bit my lip and began to walk backward. “Unless you have plans— but you can invite Grace if you want.”
He grinned. “I’m looking forward to it.” He picked his glasses and binder from the table before turning to face me again. “Grace is out of town for a couple days.”
Oh.
I continued backing toward my room, my bag hanging from my shoulder, when it suddenly hit me that we’d be alone. I swallowed. “I’m just gonna go change into something more comfortable.” My eyes bulged as the words left my mouth. “No, I mean, I’m just hot.”
Damnit!
“I’m going to change.” I rushed into my bedroom and closed the door, but not before I saw that adorable grin spread wide across Jake’s face.
An hour later, freshly showered and dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, I stood in the kitchen adding the garlic to the marinade I’d prepared for the chicken. It was a recipe I’d gotten from one of my favorite food bloggers and had always been a crowd favorite. I don’t know why it was so important that he liked my food, but I wanted it to be perfect.
“Can I help with anything?” I looked to the doorway to find Jake. He wore the same gray plaid board shorts he’d worn earlier, but now a gray T-shirt covered his chest, his hair was damp, and his face smooth.
“You shaved.”
He rubbed a hand over his jaw and grinned. “Well, it’s not every day a beautiful woman makes me dinner. I thought I’d clean up a bit.”
I shook my head at his flattery. There it was again— him saying the perfect words to make me melt inside. I covered the chicken with plastic wrap and handed him a bottle of wine. “Can you open this?”
He nodded, and I opened the fridge to grab the veggies for my salad.
“Did you get all your paperwork done?” I asked, standing at the sink rinsing the lettuce.
“Most of it.” He pulled the cork from the bottle, then grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and filled them halfway with Chardonnay. “Tell me about your new boss?” He placed a full glass in front of me as I worked.
“He’s interesting. He was named one of the top ten wedding photographers in Los Angeles, so I’m lucky for the opportunity to even work with him.”
“That’s great, Katie.”
I nodded as I retrieved the tomatoes from the counter and continued rinsing. “I was so nervous. I’m surprised he even hired me with all my stammering. He creeped me out though. He hardly said a word, just listened to me ramble.” I took a sip of wine. “But maybe that’s just the artist in him. They all have a streak of weird. Like Van Gogh—I mean, who cuts off their own ear?”
Jake’s mouth was set in a hard line. “How do you know this guy isn’t some twisted pervert?”
I shook my head and placed all my veggies in the basket to dry. “You’re paranoid.” I’d worried about the same thing only hours ago, but I didn’t want Jake to worry. I also didn’t want to ruin this night with lectures about my boss. “I have something I want to show you,” I said, hoping to distract him.
A minute later I picked up the picture of The Gang from my nightstand, returned to the kitchen, and handed it to him. “Remember these people?” I bit my lip as I watched his face transform to a smile.
“Where did you get this?” His eyes flashed to me, then back to the picture.
“In one of Mom’s old boxes when I visited last.”
“Wow, those were the days.” He laughed, and then his thumb ran over the scratched image of my brother’s face.
“What ever happened to Justin?” I asked, not wanting to bring down the mood with unpleasant memories.
He looked up again. “Oh, he’s in Long Beach somewhere. We go surfing together every once in a while.” He shrugged. “Do you ever talk to Megan and Sarah?”
“Well, Sarah can go jump off a cliff.” My tone a bit more passionate than needed. “And last I heard, Megan was living in Idaho somewhere. She’s married and has twin boys.”
He leaned against the counter, his lips turned in a confused smile. “Why the hostility toward Sarah? I thought you guys were friends.”
I began tearing the lettuce leaves into a bowl and glanced
up at him. “You know why.”
The corner of his eyes creased with confusion.
“She was always competing with me. She wasn’t a good friend.”
“What did she compete with you about?”
“Guys mostly.” Heat crept up my cheeks as I focused on slicing the tomato.
“Yeah, like there was any competition there.”
I scoffed, then brushed past him to place the salad in the fridge. “Thanks, Jake.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He grabbed my arm.
“What?” I looked up at him.
“You’re kidding yourself if you think any guy would choose her over you.”
My breath caught in my throat, and I searched his face. Did he really not remember? “Well, you sure seemed to like her.”
I moved out of his grasp, placed the salad on the shelf, and retrieved the chicken before heading out to the backyard.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked, following me.
“By what?”
“By what you said about me and Sarah.”
I rolled my eyes and forced a smile. “I know what happened with you guys.”
“What?” His brow creased. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Whatever. It’s okay, Jake. I really don’t care.”
“I never liked her. The only reason we tolerated her was because she was your friend,” he argued, but for some reason seemed a little amused.
“Oh? So is that why I found you guys making out playing that old guitar?”
“What?” His mouth dropped open, but then recognition crossed his features. His gaze shifted to the ground, and he scratched the back of his head. “Oh, that.”
“Yeah, that.” I narrowed my eyes, wondering why he looked so suspicious. “What are you hiding?”
He made a weird face, then turned to walk into the house. But I would’ve known that guilty look anywhere.
“What are you not telling me, Jake?” I called from behind him.
“Nothing.”
Oh, goodness. I knew he was hiding something now. I stepped in front of him, cutting him off. “Tell me.”
“Promise not to get mad?”
“No way.” I laughed.
“Okay, okay…” He shook his head and glanced up at me through dark lashes. “That was a bet.”
“What?” I was appalled and elated all at the same time. “Okay, I need details.”
“Dave and Justin bet me I couldn’t get her to kiss me within ten minutes,” he answered, scratching the back of his head again. “It only took me five.”
I grabbed a dishcloth from the counter and hit him with it. “That’s terrible, Jake.”
“What? I was seventeen.” He smiled.
I narrowed my eyes though my heart was smiling. I grabbed my wine from the kitchen counter then headed to the porch again. “Awful,” I threw over my shoulder, but inside I was screaming, Take that, Sarah Peterson!
We drank wine and reminisced about old times as I watched the chicken on the grill. Jake occasionally looked over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t burning anything, and some of the walls I’d built up over the years seemed to come crumbling down. I’m sure the wine helped, but for the first time since coming back, I was relaxed in his presence. Just like I used to be.
“Wow! Everything looks great, Kit.”
“Thanks.” I served us both, then sat across from him and waited for him to take his first bite.
His brows rose, and he looked at me with dramatic apprehension before popping a bite of chicken in his mouth. His tight shoulders relaxed, and he sat back against the chair. “Wow. It’s actually really good.”
“Oh, shut up.” I smiled and took a sip of wine.
“Pancakes for breakfast, and now this? Be careful, you’re going to spoil me and I’ll never let you leave.”
“Yeah right, a couple of weeks with me, and you’ll be kicking me out the door.”
“Not a chance.” His eyes met mine, making my stomach flip. “How did you make this? It’s amazing,” he asked, taking another bite of chicken.
“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.” I smirked.
“I’d like to see you try.” He raised his brows, challenging me, and I knew one kick under the table and we’d be chasing each other around the yard and playing like we used to. But that was what got us into this mess in the first place. The reason I moved away all those years ago. I cleared my throat and answered.
“It’s just garlic, lemon, olive oil, and some herbs.”
He nodded, his Adam’s apple moving up and down as he swallowed. “And the salad dressing?”
“Just a simple balsamic vinaigrette.”
“Well, it’s very good, Katie. Thank you.” He filled our glasses for the second time, then held his glass in the air. “To the new job.” He smiled across the table, and I raised my glass to meet his.
To the new job.
THE AFTERNOON SUN WAS ABLAZE overhead, and my strides began to slow. Em sat on the steps out front, and I pulled my earbuds to my neck as I opened the front gate. “Jake’s not home.” The words came out on a huff of breath while my heart struggled to find its normal rhythm.
She pulled herself to stand. “Good.” She grinned. “I’m here to see you.”
“Oh.” I laughed nervously. “What’s up?” I climbed the front steps and punched in the code to open the door.
She stepped inside. “I’m going shopping and need a friend. Come with me?”
I looked down at my body covered in sweat. “I don’t know, I’m a mess.”
“Take a shower. I can wait.” She clasped her hands together and begged. “I just don’t want to go alone.”
I laughed but was still a little apprehensive. We’d spent one drunken night together—okay, so that sounded bad, but it was true. Why would she want to go shopping with me?
“Come on, I’ll even buy you dinner.”
I shook my head and smiled. “Okay, let me just go jump in the shower.” I removed my phone from my arm band and tossed it to the coffee table. “What should I wear?”
“Whatever,” she replied, making herself at home on the couch. “Thanks, Katie. I promise you won’t regret this.”
I rushed through my shower, towel dried my hair, and slipped on a blue cotton sundress. I had no idea where we were going but was kind of excited. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been shopping with another girl.
When I came back in the living room, Em sat up and turned off the TV. “Ready?”
I nodded, grabbed my bag by the front door, and walked out of the house. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“Dress shopping. I got suckered into going as a date to some stuffy awards banquet, and I have nothing in my closet that will work.”
We approached a little black convertible parked on the curb, and she hit the key fob to unlock the doors. “Do you mind if I keep the top down?”
“No, that’s fine. I’ve actually never been in a convertible before.”
“You’re kidding me?”
“Nope.”
“So I get to be your first.” She raised her brows suggestively, and I laughed.
“I guess so.”
As we pulled away from the curb, the sun warmed my face, and my hair whipped around my shoulders. It would likely look like hell when we got there, but for the first time in months, I didn’t care—it felt amazing.
“So tell me about your date?” I asked, studying Em’s profile. She was so confident—like she didn’t care one bit what others thought of her.
“He’s just a friend I owe a favor to.” She smiled.
“Any potential?”
“Oh no, he’s not my type.”
This was the second time I’d heard Em say this, and my curiosity got the better of me. I leaned against the door to face her, kicked off a sandal, and crossed my legs up in the seat. “What is your type?”
She glanced over at me. “Tattoos, piercing... You know, the kind of asshol
e who writes you a love song, then stomps all over your soul.”
I laughed, then quickly sobered and covered my mouth. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”
She gave me a little shove. “Lighten up. That was funny as hell.”
I smiled back. “How do you know Jake?” I’d wondered since we first met—they seemed like such an odd pair.
“We met in a bar a couple years ago.”
I cleared my throat. “Oh.”
She seemed to read my mind. “Oh God, It was nothing like that. Jake’s adorable, but he’s not my type either.” She winked. “Besides, he was hung up on someone else then.”
I nodded, then turned to the window determined to change the subject. I hated hearing about Jake and other women. “So tattoos, huh? I would have never guessed.”
“Why’s that?” Her tone amused.
“I don’t know, you look so—classic. Like a dark-haired version of Marilyn Monroe.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “God, I love you.”
I smiled. “Do you even have tattoos?”
“Just one.” She pointed to her foot, where a small flower peeked out from her sandal.
“A daisy?” I asked.
She nodded. “They make me happy.”
“Tattoos, or daisies?”
“Both. But I was talking about the daisy.”
We pulled into the parking lot of a department store, and I grabbed my bag off the floor and cringed.
“What’s wrong?” Em asked.
“I just forgot my phone. It’s not a big deal.” I shook my head and climbed out of the car.
“Let’s go back and get it. It’s not far.”
“Nah, I’ll be fine. I hate the idea of being leashed to that thing anyway.”
We spent the next hour trying on loads of dresses, and I couldn’t remember a time I’d laughed harder. At first we kept running back and forth between dressing rooms to be zipped, but it got old fast, and we eventually ended up in the same room.
“So what’s your type, Katie?” Em asked as she gave me her back to zip.
“I don’t know…” Jake’s face popped to my mind, but I ignored it and pulled another dress from its hanger. “The kind who don’t know I exist.”
“Yeah, right. I find that hard to believe.”
Home to You Page 9
