Home to You

by Taylor Sullivan

  He looked up, and his hand gripped the back of his neck. “After Dave died—you were the only reason I was able to hold myself together.”

  I covered my mouth, and his eyes flickered with the twinkling lights.

  “But there’s something I’ve been wanting—needing to tell you.” He looked to his feet and swallowed—hard. “Katie…I was supposed to meet the inspector that morning. Dave covered for me because my car wouldn’t start.” His brows were furrowed and his voice strained. “I tried to tell you so many times, but I couldn’t stand the thought of you looking at me differently. Knowing that if it wasn’t for me—”

  I stepped closer. “Jake, don’t.”

  He shook his head and visions of him on his knees in our old living room flooded me.

  “Is that why your Mustang isn’t here? Did you sell it?”

  He nodded, and I pushed myself forward, slowly moving closer. I stopped when I stood in front of him, my throat so tight it practically strangled me.

  He placed a hand along my neck and trailed a thumb across my jaw.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Jake.” I grabbed his wrist and looked into his eyes, needing for him to believe me. “I would have never thought that. You could have told me.”

  He nodded. “I know I haven’t been the easiest guy to live with the last few days, but you coming back hasn’t been easy. ”

  My stomach twisted and I turned my head. Here it was. He’d tell me how complicated I’d made his life. That I needed to find another place to stay. Coming home hadn’t been easy for me either, but the thought of hearing the words from his mouth made all the air expel from my throat. “Rick hired me again.” I stepped away. “In two weeks I’ll be able to move out, you’ll have your place back. Your life back.”

  His brows furrowed, the lines in his forehead deepened. “Katie, that’s not what I meant.”

  “It’s time.” Even as the words flowed from my mouth, I wanted him to tell me differently. I wanted him to hold on to the girl who was scared to death of losing yet another man she loved.

  He searched my face. “Where is this coming from?”

  I ran my teeth over my bottom lip in an attempt not to cry. “I know I haven’t made things easy for you. For Grace—”

  “We’re over, Katie.” He cut me off.

  My heart leapt to my throat. “What?”

  “That’s where I was this morning.” His eyes bored into mine and he stepped toward me. His strong hand settled on the small of my back, urging me closer. I shook my head, wondering if I was in the middle of a dream. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” His voice was low, almost a whisper as he spoke. My left hand settled on the smooth cotton of his shoulder, and we began to sway. I didn’t know what was happening between us, but in that moment I didn’t care. I didn’t care about our past, or that if he pulled away, I would break.

  His thigh brushed mine as we danced. Our bodies so close I could feel his heat. He took my right hand and laced it around his neck, tipped my chin with one finger, and ran his thumb over my bottom lip. “I missed you.”

  I looked up at him, and his eyes shifted to my mouth. I wasn’t sure if he was talking about tonight, of if he meant the three years I’d been gone, but I couldn’t make a sound. My breath caught, and his hands settled on my hips. The scent of male skin, warm with sunshine, filled my senses, and his lips settled on mine. My mouth parted in an instant, opening to give him access to every part of me. I held nothing back, my heart and every vulnerability was there for the taking. His lips slanted over mine, devouring everything I offered, giving me all of him in return. Exerting pressure on the back of his neck I urged his mouth closer. His silky tongue touched mine and was so much sweeter than I remembered. Every inch of my body on fire from his touch.

  I was consumed by the kiss, unaware we’d moved backward until we hit the wall by the kitchen. My hands traveled from his neck, down his corded arms, exploring smooth skin and hard muscle. He touched the side of my neck, his fingers gently urging our kiss deeper. I opened to him, drawing him in, needing him…needing this.

  His large hand traveled up my spine, sending a shiver all the way to my toes, and I arched my back, trying to get closer. Then the doorbell rang, and our kiss broke. He pressed his forehead to mine, his breath coming in labored puffs. “My shuttle.”

  My body stiffened, and panic replaced my desire. The last time we kissed he pushed me away, and now he was leaving again. Leaving me confused, in the dark, and scared out of my mind.

  “Katie, don’t.” He caressed my face, his thumb brushing gently over my swollen lips, and I relaxed a little in his arms.

  “I’ll be back late Friday. We’ll talk then, okay?” His voice was low and sexy—his eyes as wild as I felt.

  I trusted him. I had no idea what was going on, but there was a promise in his expression, and he wasn’t pushing me away.

  He pulled me closer, groaned deep in the back of his throat, and buried his face in my hair. “Don’t give up on me, don’t ever give up on me.”

  Tears blurred my vision, and I nodded into his chest. I didn’t know what he meant, but there was no doubt in my mind—I could never give up on Jake.

  He cupped my face and kissed me once more. “I’ll see you next week.” He whispered the words against my mouth, then walked away. The sounds of the door closing behind him signaled I was alone, and my mind began to flood with thoughts.

  His confession, his words…our kiss. After all those years of wanting, it was hard to believe it was real. That Jake meant the words he spoke. That such an unguarded and passionate moment hadn’t been a dream. But I could still feel the warmth of his body pressed against mine, and the scent of his skin still lingered on my clothes.

  In a fog of euphoria and confusion, I somehow made it back into the living room. He’d been gone less than five minutes, yet the house was already different. Knowing he slept in the other room filled me with a sense of security, and for the next six nights I’d be alone. Every sound became magnified. The creak of the floors, leaves rustling outside—I could even hear cars driving by out front. I rushed to the door and slammed the chain on the lock. I knew it was probably silly, that I was being paranoid, but it calmed me nevertheless.

  When I entered my room, I pulled the comforter down from my bed, and a yellow paper fluttered to the floor—one from the same pad I’d seen Jake scribbling notes on a hundred times. I bit back a smile and dropped down to pick it up.

  Katie,

  I wasn’t sure what time you’d be home, and didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.

  Please keep all your lipstick to yourself. I like my stuff, and expect to have it unmarked when I get home.

  If you catch anything on fire, call John. He’s not good for much, but he’ll be there if you need anything.

  Be good,

  Jake

  P.S. Can’t wait to hear about the wedding.

  A whirl of happiness grew inside me and I grabbed my phone, programmed John’s number, then typed a message to Jake.

  ME: Where do you keep the fire extinguisher?

  The phone chimed with a quick reply.

  JAKE: Under the sink. Are you okay?

  I sat on the bed as I typed again.

  ME: I was thinking about making popcorn while you were gone.

  JAKE: Don’t!

  I laughed.

  ME: Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing this time.

  JAKE: Careful, Katie, I’m not opposed to hiring a babysitter.

  ME: Have a safe flight.

  A minute passed, then another text.

  JAKE: I miss you already.

  My heart squeezed.

  ME: I miss you too.

  I stripped off my clothes and threw a nightshirt on over my head. When I climbed into bed, the sheets were cool and soft against my bare skin, and I replayed every detail of our kiss. I had no idea what my future held; all I knew was that everything was about to change, and I couldn’t wait.

  I DIDN’T REALIZE THE BU
RDEN I’d been carrying until it was lifted, but as I hung up the phone that Thursday afternoon, the chain that attached me to Kevin was finally cut. A clean bill of health meant I never had to think about him again. That his infidelity affected no more than the past, and I could finally move toward my future. The future I hoped would include Jake.

  I pulled myself from the couch, made my way into the kitchen, and gathered all the ingredients for chocolate cake. Jake’s favorite. In twenty-four hours he’d be home. He’d walk through the door and we’d talk. I’d ask him about everything. What our kiss meant. What happened with Grace. What he saw in our future. Yes, I’d sworn off men only a couple weeks before, but the truth was, the rules didn’t apply to Jake. They never had.

  But what if I didn’t like his answers? What would I do then? He wasn’t with Grace anymore, but that didn’t change the fact he didn’t do serious. In fact, he confirmed it when he broke up with her. Would I be okay with that? Could I have a non-serious, non-committed relationship? I thought so—I just didn’t know if I could have one with Jake.

  I cracked the eggs into the bottom of the bowl—my mind swarmed with confusion and what ifs—and began to whisk my frustrations into the form of a birthday cake. The one thing I had perfected since the age of ten. The only thing I could give Jake that he didn’t already have.

  Hours later, I added dark chocolate shavings to the top of the homemade coconut pecan frosting, licked my fingers, and tossed the last bowl in the sink to soak.

  The doorbell rang, and I looked down at my flour-dusted clothes. It was probably Em or John. It had become the norm for one of them to stop by after work. They would say they were in the neighborhood, but I had a hunch Jake was having them check up on me. We’d order in food and watch a movie—I’d had more pizza in the last week than I cared to admit. But tonight I’d already decided on Chinese. Egg drop soup.

  “Coming!” I shouted, as I made my way to the living room. I wiped my hands on a kitchen rag, removed the chain, and yanked open the door.

  Grace stood on the front porch, and my breath caught in my throat. She smiled sweetly, scanning over my dusty cut off shorts to my equally messy shirt. A woman carrying a digital tablet stood next to her, and all I could do was stand there in shocked silence.

  “Katie.” Grace nodded to me. “This is my party planner, Gigi.”

  Their perfectly groomed hair matched their perfectly pressed suits. I must’ve looked like Pig Pen in comparison.

  “May we come in?” Grace asked, blinking at me expectantly.

  I moved aside. “Yes, sorry. Please come in.”

  What was Grace doing here? And why did she have a party planner with her? My mind grasped at a memory of Grace talking to Jake about a party last Friday. But they’d broken up. Breakups voided out birthday parties—didn’t they?

  “We’re just here to run over the plans for Saturday.” She flashed me a sweet smile again and walked inside. “Jake deserves nothing but the best. Don’t you agree, Katie?”

  “Yes, of course.” My hands fidgeted with the towel, and I gestured toward the kitchen. “Sorry I’m such a mess, Jake didn’t tell me to expect company.”

  “Didn’t he?” She smiled again, then turned to the party planner. “Gigi, Katie has known Jake since they were practically babies. She’s staying here until she gets her feet on the ground. Poor thing was cheated on by her fiancé.”

  They both turned to me, a look of pity on Gigi’s face, and the same fake smile on Grace’s. Her words weren’t exactly true. First of all, I’d met Jake when I was six. Practically my whole life, but I was hardly a baby. And second, Kevin was never my fiancé.

  “Can I get you ladies something to drink?” I asked, my mind reeling with what to do. “Water? Or I just made some sun tea. It might still be warm, but I can add ice?”

  “No thanks, we’re fine,” Grace replied.

  I looked to Gigi—even though Grace had rudely answered for her—and she shook her head.

  “We were just at dinner discussing Jake’s party, and Gigi wanted to come by and look over the backyard.”

  “Do you mind?” Gigi asked.

  “Oh, not at all.” Because what was I supposed to say? I had no idea what was going on, and I wasn’t about to have it out with Grace, with Gigi as a witness.

  “I assume you’ll be working Saturday?” Grace asked.

  “Working?”

  She raised her brows. “Yes, don’t you do that on weekends? Or are you finding it difficult to find a job?” Her tone syrupy sweet and slightly amused.

  Bitch. “Work is awesome. I’ll actually be shooting for one of the top wedding photographers in Los Angeles next weekend.” I looked into her eyes. “But no, I’ll be there on Saturday. It’s Jake’s birthday.”

  She was quiet for a second but then nodded to Gigi, and they made their way to the kitchen. “Come with us, Katie,” she called over her shoulder. “We’d love another opinion.”

  For the next hour, Grace and Gigi talked about all their plans. “Only the best,” they kept saying, as they ticked off various wines, beer, and the contents of the fully stocked bar. I barely recognized any of the brands they spoke of, and Jake wouldn’t either. He was a Sam Adams kind of guy. All the other stuff wouldn’t matter.

  Grace spoke of all the important people who would be at the party: her friends, high-profile clients, her boss. The longer she went on, the more I wondered what had brought them together in the first place. How this was a party for Jake at all? But then I remembered about their work connection. Maybe that was what this was about?

  White lanterns would be hung outside and cocktail tables arranged around the deck. They even planned to take down Jake’s twinkling lights—the ones that reminded me of fireflies—because they didn’t fit with the “vibe” they were trying to create. A catering service would pass out hot appetizers, and a valet would park cars out front. It was enough to make my head spin. To make me reconsider everything.

  Grace reminded me of his parents. Her designer clothes, the way she talked—all the fake materialism he grew up with. But maybe that was it? Maybe that was what he saw in her? Maybe deep down a part of him craved that life? If things were over between them, why would she be doing all this? If they were still together, then why had he kissed me?

  By the time they’d left, my gut was twisted in knots. Jake had said they were “over” but hadn’t said they broke up. How could I have let this happen? How could Jake do this to me? Put me in the position of becoming the other woman when he knew how much I’d been tortured by Kevin’s infidelity.

  Regardless of what I thought about Grace, this wasn’t who I was. I didn’t want to be that person, and I wouldn’t. I sat on the couch and began to rub slow circles at my temples.

  I wanted to trust Jake. To believe that he’d never do anything like this. But the last time I trusted someone—but Jake wasn’t Kevin. He was a good man, and he’d never lied to me before. He’d asked me not to give up on him, and even though I knew it was stupid, I didn’t want to. I wanted to believe that he’d never do anything like this. Maybe it was that tiny part of me that still believed in magic, in love at first sight, and the little fortunes that came inside of cookies, but I wasn’t ready to give up—not yet.

  In exasperation, I threw myself back on the couch and smothered a scream into the pillow. Jake would be home tomorrow night, and I had no idea what was going on. I wanted to trust him, but the uncertainty was enough to make me eat a whole batch of chocolate chip cookies.

  I glanced at my cell on the coffee table as hundreds of questions ran through my mind. The most obvious being Grace. Had they broken up after the barbecue? Or what I feared most…had I become the very thing that ended my relationship with Kevin?

  Crap! I needed to know. I picked up my phone and began to type.

  ME: Hey, are you busy?

  My thumb hovered over send knowing he probably was in a meeting. That he wouldn’t have time to answer. Screw it! I hit the button and held my br
eath.

  JAKE: I’m on break, what’s up?

  Exhale. I’d sent a dozen messages while he’d been gone—all of them silly. None as important as this.

  ME: Did you break up with Grace?

  Straight to the point. Rip it off like a Band-Aid. My heart was in my throat as I looked down at the message. Could I really have this conversation over text? Without seeing his face or hearing his voice?

  Delete. Delete. Delete!

  ME: Do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?

  Maybe I was a coward, but a part of me wasn’t ready to know.

  I sent the message, my head in my hand, my heart on my sleeve, and my whole world up in the air.

  JAKE: The shuttle’s already scheduled, don’t worry about it.

  ME: Okay.

  JAKE: Everything good?

  ME: Of course.

  Liar.

  After a hot shower and a pep talk about not giving up, I felt a little better and ordered my Chinese. Enough for Em and John in case they showed. I did the dishes, tidied up the kitchen, then put my camera batteries to charge for the next day’s engagement shoot. Anything to keep my mind from wandering to things I had no control over. Just as I sat down on the couch to check email, there was a knock at the door.

  “Just a sec!” I retrieved my wallet from the nightstand and began fishing out my credit card on the way to the front door.

  I twisted the deadbolt, and the door thrust toward me. My breath halted as the chain strained against its anchor. Adrenaline shot through me, my muscles tightened, and I pushed back. An arm covered in black wedged through the gap, a knee and a scruffy face shadowed by a dark hood.

  My heartbeat slammed in my ears, the chain so taut the screws began to give, and I threw all my weight against the door. Screams and ragged breath echoed in my consciousness—some of which I recognized as my own—then suddenly the door slammed shut, jolting my body with it. I bolted the lock, my whole body trembling as I slid to the floor, pushing back on my heels until I made it to the coffee table.