Once you tell him, you can’t take it back. You’ll lose the opportunity for even casual encounters with him. Casual sex—there was a misnomer. Of all the words she could use to describe the things she and Jack had done to each other, casual was nowhere on the list.
As much as she had enjoyed every one of those moments, would she be satisfied with going back to them? Satisfied with him popping over for a couple of mutual orgasms before returning to his own apartment? No. She adored the man, despite his stubbornness and tendency to shut people out, and she wanted him in her life. He deserved to know someone felt that way, even if the thought of telling him made her stomach tighten in panic.
Well, she’d decided to stop letting fear dictate her behavior, hadn’t she? She was going to take risks. I dare you to tell Jack Reed you’re in love with him.
* * *
DRIVING HOME FROM work on Thursday, Jack was in a great mood. A suspect he’d sketched last week had been apprehended, and his mother had left that morning. He wasn’t glad she was gone so much as he was glad she seemed to be headed to a fresh start. A real one, this time.
Since it was a furnished apartment, she’d said she didn’t need much help settling in—with an obstinacy that reminded him of himself, she’d said she could handle it alone. But she’d invited him to come visit her for Thanksgiving, and he’d surprised them both by saying yes. He’d brushed away a flash of momentary guilt about Riley because he’d never actually committed to spending the holiday with her family, and because he was certain she would support any chance of building a new relationship with his mom.
His mom had surprised him last night, before turning in for bed, by mentioning Riley. “Oh, I ran into your neighbor today. Lovely girl.”
That mention of her had kept him awake all night. He’d missed Riley this week. Tonight was the tenant board election, and he was hoping to celebrate with her afterward. Turning on his blinker, he decided to stop and get some champagne.
Things had become strained with Riley, and he knew that was his fault. He hadn’t been mentally prepared to see his mother or to explain his past to Riley. But it had all worked out for the best. His mom seemed in a better state of mind than she had been in years, and he had his apartment to himself again.
Life could return to normal. And he devoutly hoped that meant returning to Riley’s bed.
* * *
“COME ON IN,” Riley called from her kitchen. She was on a step stool, pulling down the champagne flutes that were normally only used on New Year’s Eve. Jack had told her downstairs, at the tenant meeting, that he’d be bringing over champagne. She would have left the door open behind her, but she hadn’t wanted Mags to run out.
“If that’s all right with you?” he’d asked, a hint of vulnerability in his dark eyes.
She’d assured him that she’d love for him to come over. “In fact...we need to talk.”
In her experience, most men would have panicked at those words. Jack had seemed too happy about her win to register them.
He opened the door. “Greetings, Madam President. And hi to you, too, pooch. I guess you’re the First Dog now.”
Mags ran over to him, her entire body shaking with delirious joy.
Riley shook her head. “Sometimes I think she likes you more than me.”
He struck a pose, his smoldering look comically exaggerated. “All ladies are mad for me.”
Despite her raging nerves, she couldn’t help chuckling. She climbed down from the step stool. “You’re in a good mood tonight.”
“I’m with you.” He set down the bottle of champagne and came toward her, framing her face with his hands. Then his lips met hers, and she melted into him. He was slow and teasing, exploring her mouth with seductive thoroughness.
Desire washed through her, followed by apprehension. If she kept kissing him, she’d give in to the temptation to have sex with him and postpone what she’d wanted to say.
“Wait.” She placed her palms against his chest. “Jack, wait, I—”
“I promised you champagne, and now I’m rushing you. Sorry.” He leaned down to trace his tongue over her lower lip, his hand patting her affectionately on the ass. “I’ll pace myself. It’s just that I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” she said as he reached for the champagne bottle, “but the past couple of days have given me a chance to think. About you, about us.”
The cork came loose with a dramatic pop that made her jump. She paused while he poured. Maybe a little liquid courage wasn’t a bad idea. She downed half her glass as she walked into the living room.
He sat next to her on the couch, frowning. It seemed her anxiety was finally starting to register with him. “Riley, are you having second thoughts about seeing me? I know I was unavailable this week, but I needed time and space to deal with the unexpected. Even though I probably deserve it, please don’t push me away now to get back at me.”
She brushed her fingertips over his jaw. “Pushing you away is the last thing I want to do, Jack. I...love you.”
He paled, visibly flinching at the word.
Even after hours of bracing herself for a negative response, his reaction hurt like hell. She pressed a hand to her midsection. “That’s obviously not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth. I—”
He shot to his feet. “Don’t say it again.”
Her vision glittered with tears, and she blinked them away. It didn’t work. More rose in their place. “I didn’t mean to spring this on you. When I told you weeks ago that I wasn’t looking for a relationship, it was true.” Then.
“But now you want...what exactly?” He raked a hand through his hair. “For me to say it back? Otherwise I lose what we had?”
“What did we have?” she asked softly.
“I don’t know! It was fun. It was hot. Why do you need a label?” He was pacing, but it wasn’t a random pattern. He was edging closer and closer to the door. “Why does everyone need that word? If you’d seen what people can do while claiming to be in love... I don’t know how to love, Riley. I’ve spent the past five years not even sure I love my own mother, and isn’t that basic human hardwiring? Maybe love comes naturally to you, but that just highlights why you should find someone else.”
She got to her feet, hoping to stop him before he walked out on the chance of their being very happy together. “Maybe it does come more naturally to some people than others, but everything gets easier with practice. There’s no reason we can’t work at it.”
“There is a reason. I don’t want to,” he said hollowly. “I don’t want this. I’m sorry if that sounds cruel, but you’ll thank me later, for not stringing you along and breaking your heart.”
“But—”
“Goodbye, Riley.” He opened the door and walked out of her apartment, leaving her with her tears and a bottle of champagne.
He could tell himself whatever helped his conscience, but he hadn’t spared her a broken heart. He’d simply accelerated the process.
* * *
JACK HAD CALLED Dave for some one-on-one basketball because he needed the physical activity. He did not need a lecture.
Unfortunately, Dave seemed determined to give one. “Juliet says to tell you you’re an idiot.” He smacked the ball away as Jack tried to take his shot.
“You know I respect your wife, but I didn’t ask for her opinion.”
“Yeah, you never do.”
Jack chased him down the court. Damn the giant’s long legs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means we’re here for you—and not just to carry furniture if you move. We could actually give you advice if you wanted. We could bring over stuff for dinner if you’re taking care of a sick parent.”
Tony had been shocked by Jack’s casual mention of his mom being in the hospital. “She was hurt
three days ago and you’re just now telling us?” Jack hadn’t been able to make his friend understand that not everyone had the same kind of family relationship as the Langs.
“We can take you out and get you drunk to help you forget Riley,” Dave said quietly.
Jack almost tripped over his own feet. There wasn’t enough liquor in all Atlanta to accomplish that.
“Alternatively, if you come to your senses, maybe we can figure out how to win her back.”
“That’s not what I want.” Like hell. He wanted Riley, wanted her like he’d never wanted another woman. But she needed a guy who could love her. That wasn’t him. He was good at trash-talking at the basketball court and helping witnesses concentrate. He was good at anything that took the focus off him and didn’t require looking too deeply at his past or emotional baggage. “She can do better.”
Dave stopped dead, holding the ball and looking at him blankly. “Hell, yes, she can do better than you. Don’t you think I’m aware that my wife—a beautiful and brilliant woman with medical training—can do better than a lanky cop who never remembers when it’s his turn to do the dishes? The trick is keeping her so happy that she doesn’t think much about it.”
What would it take to make Riley happy? He thought about the sexy sounds she made in bed. He knew how to make her happy physically. But everything else? Even if he tried, the first time they hit a bump in the road, his nature was to retreat, to push people away and deal with it alone.
Well, congratulations, genius. You are alone. Now he just had to figure out how to deal with it.
* * *
RILEY PULLED OUT another paper-wrapped object from the unmarked box. “You know,” she said to Wren, “most people write helpful words like kitchen or bedroom on their boxes.” Of course, most people actually packed by room. It seemed Wren had just zoomed through the house she’d shared with two other people, randomly picking up items and tossing them into boxes.
I should just be glad she wrapped a breakable vase in paper. “Hey! Wait a minute, this is my vase. I bought it on our family trip to Mexico.”
“Oh.” Wren paused in her task of unloading books onto a shelving unit to study the stolen item. “Uh...want it back?”
“I have a better idea,” Riley said. “You take the vase back to my apartment and just live there. I’ll move in here.”
Wren snorted. “They just elected you president! You can’t abdicate your throne—or your Oval Office, or whatever. Besides, I can’t set foot in your building. If I run into Jack, I’m afraid I’ll kick his ass.”
Judging by Riley’s own luck in not encountering him, the man must be rappelling out his bedroom window to avoid seeing her in the hallways. Or maybe he was already seeing someone else and spending nights at her place. Jealousy clawed at her, but she tried her best to ignore it. She didn’t actually believe that Jack was involved with someone else, but he was a free man.
“Ry?” Wren leaned over and tapped the bracelet on Riley’s wrist. “I’m sorry it didn’t do a better job of protecting your heart or bringing you luck.”
Oh, but there had been moments with Jack when she’d felt like the luckiest woman on earth. “You don’t have to feel sorry. No one’s to blame here, not even him.”
Wren made a rude noise.
“We can’t be mad at him for telling the truth. He told me he didn’t want a relationship. And why would he? He’s mostly seen people use love as a warped excuse for hurting each other or staying in bad situations.”
“You’re too kind for your own good. Does taking the high road and being all understanding about it make you feel better?”
“No,” she admitted tremulously. “Not even a little bit.” But crying for a week, with Mags looking on in concern, hadn’t helped, either. So she might as well try being emotionally mature about the situation.
“Normally, I’d advise doing shots and making out with someone even hotter than him to get over it, but that’s kind of how I ended up homeless.” Since Sam had been the first one in the house they’d shared, Wren was the one who left when his angry behavior toward her had grown even pettier.
“Plus, I don’t know any men hotter than Jack.” And the thought of kissing anyone who wasn’t him... Her throat burned, and there was a knot in her stomach. Tears weren’t far behind. “Wren, it’s going to get better, isn’t it?”
Her little sister hugged her. “Sure it will.”
When? But she didn’t bother asking. It was a question no one could answer. She just knew that every morning she woke up telling herself that it would finally be the day being without Jack sucked a little less. And every morning so far, she’d been wrong.
* * *
JACK LISTENED TO his mother talk about the two job interviews she’d had and the therapy she participated in every day and hoped that his pride in her showed. He was afraid it might be overshadowed by his dour mood, even though he was making a genuine effort to be a festive dinner companion.
He poured a little extra gravy on stuffing that had long since gone cold. “You really seem to be doing great, Mom.”
She sighed. “You don’t. Honestly, kid, you look like hell.”
“I’m fine.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s been...a rough couple of weeks.” Plus, he was keeping weird hours, leaving early in the morning, staying out until late. You can’t avoid her forever. Maybe not, but it was working so far.
Dude. If this is working, I’d hate to see what failing looks like.
“It’s Riley, isn’t it?”
Jack’s head shot up. Although his mother had once mentioned his “lovely” neighbor, they’d never discussed her. “What do you know?”
“That she loves you and that you clearly love her.”
He flinched. “I don’t.”
“How long’s it been since the two of you saw each other?”
“Since the day after you moved in here.”
“And how do you feel without her?”
Like someone was pulling out his internal organs on a daily basis. “Riley and I don’t want the same things.”
“She told me you don’t want to be serious about anyone. Are you sure?”
“Who would know better than me?” he asked indignantly.
“Baby, I made lots of choices in my life that weren’t what I wanted. I made them out of fear, out of self-delusion. You said I seem to be doing well here, and I am. It’s wonderful. But the black cloud over my being happy is this... I didn’t do it sooner. I should have taken you out of that trailer park, got myself out of that bar where I was surrounded by the same people and the same behaviors. I should have talked to a therapist about my father thirty years ago.”
He reached across the table for her hand. “I have so much respect for the changes you’ve made.”
“Change isn’t easy, but it is worth it. Take it from your mother—you don’t want to be sitting alone, thirty years from now, wishing you’d changed soon enough for it to count.”
He always told himself he was most comfortable alone, but she painted a bleak picture. If he kept pushing others away, would he be happy? Tony and Dave would have wives that grew old with them, generations of children and grandchildren. Jack had said he didn’t need that. But when he thought about all the years stretched ahead of him, time that would pass without holding Riley, without seeing her smile...
He’d thought of his mother as self-destructive for years. Was it any less destructive to cut himself off from a chance at being happy?
“Jack, answer from your heart. What do you want?”
“Riley.” When he didn’t stop to think, the answer was simple.
“Then what are you doing here with me?”
* * *
THE TRADITION AT the Kendrick house was that before they dug into the food, everyone had to name something for
which they were thankful. In Riley’s current mood, it was hard to summon the appropriate gratitude. I’m thankful my sisters convinced my mom not to invite Chris Buchannan, she thought as her father passed her the delicate china gravy boat. I’m thankful that I haven’t given in to the urge to cry in at least two days.
After Wren took a turn saying she was thankful for her new job, and Rochelle and Perry said they were thankful for each other—gag—Riley managed, “I’m thankful for Mags. I used to tell people I found a dog. But the truth is, I feel like she found me.” And God knew Riley had appreciated the source of companionship and comfort recently.
“I am thankful,” Larry Kendrick said, “to have three healthy, amazing daughters. I—”
When the doorbell interrupted him, Riley glared at her mother. “If that is Chris Buchannan, so help me—”
“Riley!” Wren had already jumped out of her chair. The dining room window had a view of the front porch. “It’s not Chris Buchannan.”
Oh, hell. Was Mitch visiting his aunt across the street again?
“You don’t have to talk to him,” Wren said fiercely. “I will go to the door and get rid of him. It’s Thanksgiving, a day for eating your body weight in mashed potatoes, not dealing with the jerk who broke your heart.”
“Who broke Riley’s heart?” Larry demanded with a thunderous scowl.
“Jack?” Riley shot to her feet. “You don’t mean Jack’s here?”
Rochelle tossed her napkin on the table. “Good. I’d like the chance to give him a piece of my mind.”
“Hold it!” Riley stood in the doorway, hoping to head off vengeful sisters and murderous fathers. “Everyone who is not me, stay in this dining room. I’ll talk to him alone.” With that, she walked on trembling legs to the front door. Mags followed her, yapping happily the entire way.
Why on earth would he be here? If he’d wanted to talk to her, they were neighbors for pity’s sake! He could knock on her door anytime. Instead, he was interrupting Thanksgiving dinner and putting her in a position where she’d have to give her mother answers. Well, you see, Mom, the man I was having all the recreational sex with freaked out when I told him I loved him...
If She Dares (Contemporary Romance) Page 17
