As they passed the security checkpoint, Nikki hurtled at them, blond curls trailing after her. Her husband, Dillon’s, long strides kept him at her side. Tears leaked down the freckles on her cheeks. Behind her, Ned, Timmy, and Mom approached, grins lighting their faces.
He’d stayed away too long.
“Jake!” Nikki collided with him, a tangle of arms, elbows, and hands.
“Whoa. I missed you, too.” Jake laughed and held on.
“You must be Gab—” Nikki’s muffled voice said.
“Rachel,” Jake corrected as he released Nikki. He connected with Ned’s hand, and pulled him into a hug. “Everybody, this is Rachel,” he said over Ned’s shoulder.
Nikki’s breath sucked in. Mom’s brows made perfect upside-down vees. Tim stared.
“You could have told us you were bringing a girl home—” Nikki clapped her hand over her mouth.
“Ned didn’t tell you? Geez, Ned!”
Jake’s gaze speared Ned and panned to his mother. “Rachel started working for me in May. One thing led to another, and here she is.”
Nikki hugged Rachel. “Welcome to the fam—” Nikki shot a confused look at Jake.
Ned stepped between Nikki and Rachel, reaching a hand to Rachel. “Nice to meet you. You should really think about marrying my sorry brother and taking him off our hands.”
A speech for Ned. And if he didn’t know better, he’d think Ned knew he was into Rachel.
“Hey, my turn.” Timmy hugged Rachel. “I’m Tim.”
“Watch it, Tim-meister,” Jake said as Mom’s kiss landed on his eyebrow. “I love you, too, Mom.” Her bony arms and familiar perfume wrapped around him. Home.
Mom broke away from Jake to hug Rachel. “I’m Joanne. Welcome, welcome.”
Rachel glanced at Ned, a dark-haired version of Jake, in the driver’s seat and Joanne across from him in the glow of the Indianapolis freeway. Jake had wedged her under his arm as if he wanted to make room for two more people on the middle seat of the minivan. The youngest of Jake’s stair-step siblings, Timmy and Nikki—who hadn’t stopped talking since the terminal—along with her silent husband, sat in the rear.
Nikki’s words flowed over Rachel requiring little response—something about her and Dillon saving for a house and an extra ski jacket.
Jake’s rib cage smashed up against her arm with every breath.
The surrealism of her first flight and the foreign industrial and office buildings dotting I-465 distanced her from Mama’s camping out in the storage room off the carport, Daddy’s walking around like a zombie, but not from the fear of what she’d face when she returned home.
Chapter 25
Jake watched through the kitchen doorway as Rachel washed a colander and chatted with Mom and Nikki. They’d only walked in the door from the airport a couple hours ago. Rachel fit into his family already. Her laughter danced around him, celebrating the life that had shamed him as a kid, urging him to do the same.
Yeah, it was time to let go of all the Gilford Prep snubs from his childhood and enjoy his family. Summer Moll and the rest had wounded him, but he’d wallowed in the hurt long enough. Time to forgive them all, and put their slights behind him for good. God, You deal with them. I’m done with the bitterness.
He felt lighter, as though the ballast he’d been lugging around most of his life had lifted from his shoulders. He jumped up from the couch. “Timmy, you still the weekend custodian at the junior high.”
“Yeah. What do you think, they’re going to promote me to principal?” He tossed Car and Driver magazine onto the coffee table. “Lay off the ‘Timmy,’ would you?”
Jake grabbed him in a headlock. “Baby brother isn’t ‘Timmy’ anymore?” He rubbed Tim’s shaggy brown head with his knuckles.
What had he been thinking staying away for almost two years?
“Hey!” Tim jabbed an elbow into Jake’s gut.
Jake grabbed his stomach. “Let’s go shoot some hoops if you’ve got the keys to the gym.” Nothing like playing ball to normalize things with his brothers after being apart. And it wouldn’t hurt for Rachel to see him play her sport.
Ned jogged down the stairs. “I’m in.”
“Not me,” Nikki called. “Dillon and I promised to help Mom bake Christmas cookies.”
“As if—” Tim said.
“Let me play.” Rachel poked her head into the living room. “We could play two on two.”
Tim and Ned’s faces panned toward her.
“It’s okay, guys,” Jake said. “She played ball in school.”
Tim shot her a skeptical look. “Whatever.”
Jake followed Rachel upstairs and into his room.
She eyed their luggage he’d stacked side by side under the window, then swiveled toward his double bed. “Jake, I—”
“We slept in the same room for six months. What’s another week?” He pulled socks, shorts, and a T-shirt out of his suitcase. “Not a big deal.”
“Yeah, but—”
“My siblings all have single beds.”
“What will your mother say?”
“I was born six months after my folks got married…” He shrugged. “You want to know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think you’re afraid you can’t keep your hands off me.” He shot her a grin and stepped into the hall.
“Is that so?” Rachel sputtered.
“Yep.” He shut the door. He’d been teasing her, but maybe Rachel was afraid she’d lose control. He’d glimpsed her passionate temperament in a dozen ways—this aspect, by far, his favorite. But she didn’t need to worry. He’d already lost one girl by pushing her boundaries. That wasn’t going to happen again.
Inside the gym, the lights came up slowly, bathing Rachel in ethereal light. How had he ignored her beauty until half way through the summer? He bounced the ball with one hand, then the other, as he shook off his coat. Beside him, Tim tied his laces.
Rachel ditched her warm-ups and rubbed the goose bumps on her arms. “It’s cold in here.”
“Wanna take the car home?” Tim dangled his keys in front of her. “We’ll walk home when we’re done.”
“Not on your life, Timmy.” She bent to stretch out her calf muscles.
Rachel could handle his brothers, no problem. Jake shot her a grin. His eyes caught on the meager amount of leg showing below her basketball shorts—leg he hadn’t seen in months. He grounded the ball to enjoy the scenery.
Rachel continued her stretches, an uncertain smile tugging at her lips as if she wasn’t sure what to do with his attention.
Tim and Ned took off toward the closest basket.
“We always play shirts and skins. What’ll it be?” he said to Rachel.
“Very funny.”
“First one to make a basket gets to pick his teammate,” Jake yelled, dribbling the ball.
Rachel jogged toward the hoop. With lightning speed, she snatched the ball from him, pivoted, and neatly sunk a three-point basket.
She grinned at the shock on their faces. “I’ll take Ned. He’s the tallest.”
For a split second no one moved.
“Come on, boys, let’s play ball.” She tossed the ball to Jake. “You take it. We’re going to whip your tails anyway. Right, Ned?”
Ned jogged over to cover Tim. “Anything you say, sister.”
The sound of bouncing reverberated off the walls, mingling with grunts and groans, the squeak of shoes on the floor, breathing. They fell into the rhythm of the game.
Guarding Rachel gave Jake a close-up view of her skill. Granted, at sweeper, he hadn’t been the fastest player on the soccer field, but he sure hadn’t been slow. On the basketball court, Rachel was at least as fast as he was, and a better shooter. He shouldn’t be surprised. Or annoyed.
Ned passed Rachel the ball without glancing in her direction.
But Jake was on her—done playing nice. “You’re sweating, Rae.” He wrinkled his nose at her.
“Women don�
�t sweat; they glisten.” She smirked, ducked under his arm, and took off toward the basket.
Jake ran her down. “You could have told me you played center in school.”
“There are lots of things you don’t know about me.” She threw a hard pass to Ned. “Sink that baby.”
Ned obeyed.
Down twelve-sixteen, Tim ran the ball from half court and took a jump shot. The ball bounced off the rim and out of bounds. Tim yanked off his baseball cap and fired it at the floor. He swore and kicked the ball against the wall. But two minutes later, he redeemed himself by stealing the ball from Ned. He passed off to Jake. “Your turn, bro.”
Jake took off at a sprint, Rachel hard on his heels. He finger-rolled the ball into the basket. Sweet.
Rachel bent over, hands on her knees, and sucked air. “I’m getting too old for this.”
Jake’s eyes wandered her sweat-slicked skin. “You look fine to me.” Scoring the basket had taken the edge off his irritation, enough to appreciate the view down her jersey of her sports bra.
Rachel’s head jerked up.
Tim and Ned took off with the ball.
Jake winked and watched her turn red. Now that’s the kind of reaction I like to see.
They headed toward Tim and Ned under the basket.
Tim faked a shot and passed to Jake.
Rachel yelled, “Miss it!”
Unflustered, Jake sank the tying basket. “You’re not the only one who can play ball.” He lobbed to Ned.
“That was an unfair tactic you used on me back there,” Rachel said.
“Tactic?” Jake played dumb. He stepped toe-to-toe, levity gone, his gaze settling on her lips. “You do look really fine.” He sprinted to the half-court line. When he glanced over his shoulder, Rachel stood where he left her, looking dazed. Maybe playing basketball with her wasn’t so annoying after all.
But his game dove into the toilet. His next shot rimmed out, and Ned rebounded, sinking a basket. Rachel hit a three-pointer, first one she’d attempted since her pre-game shocker. Then, Rachel crowded him, stole the ball, and he threw the ball away to end the game down sixteen-twenty-one.
Rachel slumped against the retracted bleachers breathing hard.
“Man, Rachel, you can really play ball.” Tim shook his damp mop in awe. Sweat trickled beside his ear. “Where’d you learn to play?”
“Grew up playing with the guys in my neighborhood…. Played in school.”
“Where do you find girls like her?” Tim tossed the question to Jake.
“Find your own girl,” Jake muttered.
“Church.” Rachel pulled her wallet out of her jacket pocket and flipped a picture open in front of Tim, then Ned. “Check out my best friend, Cat—a church girl.”
“Not bad,” Tim admitted as they filed out the door.
Ned’s brows arched appreciatively.
In Tim’s “Love Machine” VW Rabbit, Jake bounced along in the back seat, Rachel’s arm jostling his.
“Can’t play ball much on that barge of yours, huh, Jake?” Tim needled.
“Lookin’ rusty.” Ned took his lick.
“But somebody kept up their game,” Tim said.
Rachel laughed.
Laughed. Jake hunkered closer to the door.
Rachel’s voice drifted toward him. “Thanks, guys, for letting me play. I’ve got family drama, and I didn’t think about it the whole game.”
Now he felt like a heel. Rachel needed his support during her parents’ meltdown.
“Anytime,” Tim tossed over his shoulder. “How about tomorrow?”
Jake rolled his eyes. “I’ll let you know if my pride recovers by then.”
Tim and Ned howled.
Yeah, things felt back to normal.
Rachel gave him a smile that pretty much made up for the last hour and a half of humiliation. He took her hand and shot her a sheepish look.
Basketball had temporarily chased out Rachel’s panic over sharing a bed with Jake. But at ten p.m., she stood in Jake’s room between his luggage and hers, drying her hair and thinking of little else.
She yawned and eyed the double bed draped in a red plaid comforter that matched the color of her sweatshirt and pants. The memory of falling asleep to Jake’s heartbeat wafted through her. After traveling and playing ball, she was almost tired enough to nod off with Jake in the bed. Almost. Still, the Bret-guilt she’d barely crawled out from under would guard her battered morality tonight and probably a whole lot longer.
She’d not thought of Mama and Daddy for stretches of time today, and hopefully her presence would cheer Jake’s mother. Coming with Jake had been the right decision.
She bent at the waist and dumped her hair upside down to dry the underside. Did Jake think they could coexist in that bed for a week without having sex? She laughed out loud and righted herself, clicking off the dryer.
Jake stood inside the door, watching her.
She tensed. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
He crossed the room and opened his suitcase beside her. “What made you laugh?” He tossed a T-shirt, boxers, and a toothbrush onto the bed.
She stared at the items. “Thinking about the awkward conversation we’re about to have.”
He stepped into her personal space, a smirk playing on his face. “What conversation is that?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m not sleeping in the same bed with you.”
“Why not? I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do right now.”
“Because there’s no way we’re sleeping together and not having sex.”
“Exactly.”
“Jake!”
He stepped closer and forked his fingers into her hair to cradle her head in his hands. “You really should wear your hair down more.” He combed his fingers to the tips of her hair, making her scalp tingle. “Beautiful.” His breath fanned her cheek.
Okay, one kiss. One. Then I sprint for the couch.
Jake dipped closer and stopped. He landed a kiss on her cheekbone. “Sleep well. I’m on Ned’s floor for the week.”
She let out her breath and wilted onto the comforter. Her hand landed on Jake’s belongings and she sprung up, the boxers, T-shirt and toothbrush clenched in her fingers. She grabbed Jake’s flannel-covered arm and marched him toward the door. “I can’t believe you screwed with me like that.” She flung open the door, threw his stuff into the hall, and shoved him out the door with the flat of her hand.
Jake laughed. “Man, you smell incredible.” He stopped her from shutting the door with his hand on the knob and sobered. “Thanks for coming.”
She let the smile wedged inside come out. “You’re welcome.” Now get out of here before I change my mind about the sleeping arrangements.
Rachel’s breath formed on the kitchen window as she drank in her first glimpse of snow.
“Rachel, grab your coat.” Jake swiped her mug and downed the rest of the cocoa.
The intimacy of Jake’s action warmed her more than the drink had. She zipped herself into Nikki’s ski jacket, her heart hammering with excitement. Her first snow.
He pulled her out into a white Christmas morning. The whole family trouped after them, including Nikki’s man-of-few-words husband, Dillon. The next hour kaleidoscoped in her mind—Tim careening her down a hill on a yellow disc, the white snow angels she and Nikki fashioned after flopping backwards onto the cold powder, the snowman they all built, sporting a red scarf, everyone’s pink cheeks after the snowball fight.
Jake’s mother clicked a last snapshot and marched toward the kitchen door behind Jake’s siblings.
“Thanks, you guys! That was amazing.” Rachel called.
“You think this is something, just come back for the Indianapolis 500,” Tim said and shot her a smile.
Jake grinned at Rachel. “Like snow much?” He ruffled snow from her hair and brushed off the shoulders of her coat. A thumb brushed the flakes from her eyebrow.
His gaze drilled into th
at place where she buried her love for him. Could he see it?
“Merry Christmas.” He pressed cool lips to hers.
She grabbed hold of Jake’s arm, the kiss making her feel wobbly inside.
The kiss ended, and her smile trembled. “Merry Christmas.”
“Time to open gifts,” Nikki announced as they stepped into the heat and hubbub of the house.
The scent of turkey and stuffing wafted over Jake as he entered the house. Life was good.
He hoped the festivities were keeping Rachel’s mind off the drama she left at home.
Affection for his family swam through him. Home had always been this way. Yeah, the years immediately after Dad’s death had been rough, but really, they’d been happy in this tired looking split-level.
The kitchen emptied out and he couldn’t put it off any longer. He jogged upstairs to snag Rachel’s gift, an army of ants marching into his stomach.
Chapter 26
Jake jostled Rachel on the loveseat as he sat, dislodging the morose vision of her family opening gifts in Florida, shrouded by rustling palm fronds. Mama and Daddy had called a truce to spend Christmas as a family, but Hall said things were eerily quiet. Please, God, do something—today while they’re together.
“Since Gramps is gone, I brought his Bible to read the Christmas story,” Jake said.
Jake’s mother sank onto an easy chair beside the tree. “Thanks, Jake. Nobody thought of it last year. We just went through the motions—the first year without you both.”
Jake handed Rachel the Bible she’d first seen Bungee-corded between boat repair books in the Queen’s office.
Did he expect her to read aloud? Her fingers locked around the book. Breathe in. Breathe out. Don’t hyperventilate.
Tattered Innocence Page 20
