“No. I can tell you how beautiful you are anywhere. I could tell you all day, every day.”
“Oh. That’s nice.” She was starting to get carried away again, but she couldn’t stop it this time. The scariest part was she didn’t want to.
“I should thank you.”
She looked up at him, confused. “For what?”
“For coming back to me. Even if just for a little while. Saving me. Again,” he murmured into her hair. “I wasn’t—I wasn’t doing so well before you came back.”
He didn’t seem to be anything like what Emily Rose had led her to believe she’d find. He didn’t seem nearly as broken as she’d expected him to be.
“You’ve done so much for me. And you mean the world to me. You keep saving me. I feel so whole—so happy here next to you. I can’t believe I’m holding you in my arms again. You’re such a large part of my life. Even when you’re not physically in it. We don’t have much time, and I don’t know how to tell you everything that’s in my heart.”
Jemma felt as if her own heart would disintegrate. “Then don’t.”
“Don’t?” His brow puckered in confusion.
“Remember? That’s part of the deal we made,” Jemma said. “Enjoy this night with me.” She walked backward into the lake, reaching out for his hands.
“What are you doing?” His voice was wary, but he gave her his hands.
“Enjoying this moment with you,” she said, walking further backward. She didn’t stop until the water was waist high. The water she’d disturbed by walking in pushed against her waist in small, pleasant waves. She leaned her head to the side, enjoying the contrast of Davis’s dark hair with his pale skin. Her eyes lingered on the angular line of his jaw. In moonlight and shadows, his face was perfection. The face of all her favorite dreams. But that was all he was meant to be now. Dreams and memories. They would have never lasted as a couple. Trying wouldn’t have been good for either of them.
Davis said, “Why are we standing here with all of our clothes on?”
“’Cause I can’t do this on land.” She splashed water into his face.
“Oh. It’s on now,” he said, splashing her back. She reached down to scoop up an armful of water to fling at him and he grabbed her arms. She laughed, struggling against his grasp until they both lost their balance and went crashing into the lake. Once they surfaced, dripping clothes adhering to their skin, he pulled her close, and kissed her hard and sweet with a passion that would have sent her right back into the lake if he hadn’t been holding her so tightly.
“It’s not so bad being in here now, is it?” she said between kisses.
“It’s not anything but perfect when we’re together like this.”
She smiled against his lips.
***
“I still can’t believe we did that,” Davis said. “That water was freezing.” He wrapped a towel around her and rubbed her shoulders. “I’m glad we did, though.”
Jemma nodded. Her dress lay on the bathroom floor and she wore only her wet underwear and the towel Davis had just wrapped around her.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said. Needing to feel him close, she sank back against him. “Just a little chilly.”
She felt his breathing, gentle and quick, against her neck. She put a hand over his, which lay against her shoulder. She was just going to have to deal with the pain of leaving. She wanted to enjoy every minute she had left with him in the fullest way possible. She needed to listen to what she kept telling him. All that mattered was living in the moment. Enjoying what time they had left to say a real goodbye to each other—something they’d never gotten the chance to do.
She turned around in his arms and locked her hands behind his neck, letting them rest against the nape. And then she drank him in with her eyes. She let them move over the shadowy planes of his face—crooked nose, cheeks, and finally eyes—those eyes a perfect, clear blue. The sky on a cloudless autumn day when everything seemed so perfect it was almost believable that all was going to be okay. That kind of blue.
He traced his fingertips along her cheeks, over her ears, down to her shoulders. Up again, under her chin. He moved them across her collarbone and then up and down her arms from shoulders to elbows. The whole time, they watched each other. They kept their eyes locked as if trying to tell each other all the things they’d forbidden each other to say out loud.
She slid her arms down to his waist. He stroked her hair away from her face. Everything seemed so perfect in that moment. If only there was a way to trick herself into believing it could always be that way. Too bad she knew better.
***
Davis pulled Jemma’s towel open and held the ends of it in his hands. She wore only a soaked black lace bra and panties. Her nipples strained against the transparent material of the bra. She started to move closer. He shook his head, not yet done drinking her in with his eyes.
“What?” she whispered.
“I’m just admiring.” His eyes traveled over the rise of her breasts, down to her flat stomach, over her navel, and to the scrap of lacy fabric between her perfect legs.
“Admiring?”
“Yes. Admiring.” He dropped the towel and moved closer.
“Oh.”
His hands slipped over her hips as he hugged her to him. She moaned, pressing her hands into his lower back.
He tried to absorb every inch of her. He only had days left with her, and he had to be able to remember everything perfectly. From the way her neck curved into the slope of her shoulders to how his name sounded coming from her mouth. To how good it felt to run his fingers over her silky skin.
He knew she was right and that was why it was good she was going to Florida. But that didn’t mean he wanted her to go. He wished he were more selfish. Selfish enough to beg her not to go. To ask her to marry him although he had no right to ruin her life by making himself a permanent part of it.
“Davis?” she asked in a soft murmur as his lips found their way up one arm.
“Hmm?” He hummed into the flesh of the opposite arm, working his way down to her fingertips.
“I’m glad you brought me here.”
He nodded, his lips pressed to the flesh between her breasts. He let her bra slide from his fingers to the floor. Holding her eyes with his, he spread his fingers over her shoulder before tracing them down to her navel. His lips touched the places his fingers had been. He kneeled in front of her, his hands pressed to her thighs. He took the top of the black scrap of fabric between his teeth and pulled it slowly over her thighs and then released it from his teeth, letting it fall to the floor.
He kissed her inner thighs, inhaling her sweet scent, his hands on the backs of them. He felt her fingers in his hair and his kisses became deeper. While he pressed his lips into the skin of her hip, one of his hands found its way from the back of her thigh to the wet warmth between her legs.
He pulled away and she moaned in disappointment. He stood and took her hands, pulling her over to the bed. Lying on top of her, he said, “I want you to be happy.” He’d almost said he wanted to make her happy, but he wasn’t sure he was capable of doing that. He represented things from a past she wanted to forget. A past anyone would want to forget.
“I am,” she said before kissing him.
“Good.” His kisses moved lower and lower until he once again found himself between her gorgeous legs. He drowned out his thoughts with the scent and taste of her.
Chapter 17
Monday morning, Davis limped into the kitchen to find Jemma making breakfast. He kissed her cheek before grabbing a mug and going over to pour himself a cup of coffee.
Jemma said, “I’ve had such a good time here. You sure you can’t call in sick?”
“Only if I want to get fired again today.” Davis went to the fridge to look for cream.
“Are you okay?”
He looked up from the fridge. “What? Yeah. I’m fine. Why?” No cream. Maybe there was some non-dairy cream
er in one of the cabinets.
“Well, it’s just that you’re limping. And the Vicodin . . .”
“I’m okay. I don’t even take the Vicodin. Have you seen me take the Vicodin?” He slammed a cabinet shut. He put a hand over his eyes and winced. He felt bad for snapping at her, but he didn’t like to talk about his knee. That, combined with the previous night making him so much more aware of what he was about to lose, led to him being on edge. He also hadn’t been able to sleep well, thinking of those things.
“Sorry. You looked like you might be hurting is all.” She flipped the eggs that sizzled in a black skillet.
She had no idea how he hurt. “It’s okay.” He dumped some of the powdered creamer he’d found into his coffee. Then he went to find a spoon.
“I hate to think of you in pain.”
He stirred sugar into his coffee.
“Davis?” She put a hesitant hand on his back. He tensed, but didn’t move away from her. “I’m sorry. About you and Tara and your . . . what happened between you two. I wanted to say that the other day. And I didn’t.”
He nodded. “Thanks, but that was a long time ago. Tara was another part of me. A part I didn’t like very much. She’s not important anymore.”
“It has to hurt, though. If you ever want to talk about it—”
He shrugged away from her hand. “Ever? Don’t you mean if I want to talk about it sometime in the next two weeks or so before you take off for Florida?”
“I’m sorry, Davis. I am. But you have to know it’s better for both of us this way,” Jemma said.
“What I know is that it hurts. I love you, Jemma. I’ve always wanted what we shared this past weekend. Last night. I’m only letting go because it’s what you want and what you deserve. I know it’s my fault—a lot of the reason you hate being in Derring.”
“I don’t want to talk about this. It’s all in the past and the past can’t be changed.”
He turned his coffee cup in circles on the counter, looking at it instead of her. “Regardless, I wish I could take it all back.”
She was rougher with the plates she pulled from the cabinet than she needed to be. “Like I said, we can’t change the past. Only move forward. That’s what I’m trying to do.”
“I wish I could have been all that you needed. I wish I could be now.”
Jemma turned off the stove burners and put her hands on her hips. She stayed facing the stove. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. Maybe this was a bad idea. If you want me to leave you alone for the rest of the time I’m here—”
“Shh. No. Never. I want the time we have left. I know you’re going to Florida at the end of it. That may be a little hard for me to deal with, but I understand you need that. I wanted you to know how I really feel. That’s all. I thought about it all night, and it might not be fair to you to say anything, but I’m done with the days when I don’t tell you what’s really in my heart.”
“I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t.” He could hear the tears in her voice even if he couldn’t see her face.
“Don’t worry about me. Go. You deserve a real chance at a happy life.”
She turned to him. “I’ll never forget you. Even if I can’t—I mean, you’re important to me.” He moved closer and she placed his hand over her chest.
He wanted forever, but he settled for pulling her close.
“I want you to know that no one has ever taken your place, Jemma. Definitely not Tara. Not anybody. And no one ever will.”
“Hey, don’t you—”
“Forget about me.”
“That’s a promise.”
“’Cause I don’t make threats.”
Their old joke again. This time, it made her a little sad.
He pressed his lips to hers. For a moment, there was no sound except for their uneven breathing and the racing of their hearts in their own ears. She pressed her thumb against his chin, parting his lips. She held his lower lip between her teeth for a moment before pushing her tongue against his. Their slow kiss deepened as they pulled each other closer, trying to shut out the world.
He lifted her onto the counter and pressed his body into hers. Maybe if he never stopped kissing her, they’d never have to leave.
***
Monday afternoon Jemma sat in the living room at Mary’s house, reading over some files for work. She’d offered to get up to speed on some files and do other client research so she would be up-to-date coming through the door. Her new boss had happily sent her the needed info. Her having the files wasn’t a problem because she already had a confidentiality form and all the other appropriate paperwork on file from her summer internship with the firm. She planned to make herself indispensable to them as quickly as possible. The job was a very important step in her career.
Besides, working was good for her. It was easier to avoid the things it was hard to think about when she had something to preoccupy her mind with like reading client files and brainstorming new marketing strategies.
She was so involved in her work, she didn’t realize it was time for Emily Rose to come over until she heard a knock at the door.
Once she and Emily Rose were sitting in the living room, Jemma took a deep breath and decided to begin with the beginning. She said, “Smooth’s up for parole.” And then she told Emily Rose all about the letter and her upcoming interview with the parole board.
“That’s what you’re doing here,” Emily Rose said in a dangerous monotone.
“What?”
“You don’t care about me anymore. Maybe you never did. You came back to Derring because of him—his parole hearing. Why am I always such a fool for you, Jemma?”
“No, that’s not why I came back.”
“It makes perfect sense. You hated helping with the wedding. It’s like you couldn’t stand to be around me. I was just something to pass the time, huh? Maybe make yourself feel good that you showed up for at least one important thing in my life since high school.”
“Emily Rose, it’s not like that at all.” Jemma reached for her, but she pushed Jemma’s hands away.
“You don’t care. You’re not the Jemma I knew. You’ve changed, and I don’t like this person you are now. At all.” Emily Rose walked across the room.
“So you want me to be broken and pitiful like I was back then?”
“I never felt that way about you. And no, I just want you to be Jemma again. I want you to care. I want you to laugh and joke with me and—I want it to be like before. Not the awful parts—I’m not a bitch like you are now. The parts with the sleepovers and the days of us hanging out doing nothing all day. I want you to be something other than this selfish, uncaring thing you’ve become. Is that what going away made you? This is what you call a better life?”
“Emily—”
Emily Rose made long, angry strides back and forth across the room. “I hate the way you are now. You’re a liar and you’re so cold. I can’t believe what I’m hearing, what I see before me—I can’t believe it. You’re no better than Tara, you know that? And you know why? All you care about is yourself. You used to be such a good friend, but not anymore.”
“No. It’s not like that. I thought about you all the time. All of you. It really did hurt to leave you all behind, but I couldn’t come back. It’s hard to explain, but I just couldn’t.” Jemma felt like she’d been punched in her heart. Em Rose was right, but there had to be some way to make her see. Some way to get their friendship back the way it should’ve been.
“Don’t I mean anything to you? Does Wendell? Your friends are nothing? Everything we had is nothing? Obviously our friendship is nothing. Was. You’re not a friend to me anymore. I don’t know what you are.” She came to a stop in front of Jemma.
“I was wrong, okay? I’m scared to death, Emily Rose. I’m confused. I don’t know how to be or how to act around anyone anymore.”
Jemma thought Emily Rose’s face fell, but she couldn’t see all that clearly through the stream of tears pouring from her eyes. The truth, which
made her seem stupid, petty, and small, had tumbled out before she really meant for it to.
“What are you talking about?” Emily Rose spoke in a softer voice.
Jemma threw up her hands and shook her head. She pressed her hand to the side of her head after passing it across her eyes to knock some of the tears away.
“I don’t know what I’m talking about. It was stupid, okay? To run away. To leave you. Not to let you guys know where I was. I thought I needed to do that in order to move on. I thought starting fresh would make me happy. But really, the thought of what I did to the few people in the world who ever cared about me? It made me miserable. It’s eating me up more now that I’m back.” Her breath hitched and then she continued. “You don’t think it was hard for me? But what was I supposed to do? How could I stay?”
Emily Rose on the opposite end of the couch. “How could you abandon us? You wouldn’t send us an address or call us—you knew where we were even if we didn’t have a clue about you other than you might or might not have been somewhere in the state of South Carolina. You said when you left you weren’t even sure if you were going to go live with your aunt. That you were going to visit her and you’d take it from there.”
“My memories of you were all mixed up with Lynette and Demonte and all kinds of painful things. I was so hurt—so lost. Sometimes, I think I still am.”
“I thought you cared about us, Jemma. About me.”
“I do.”
“And you can honestly tell me Smooth’s not the only reason you came back.” Emily Rose moved a little closer to her.
“He’s not.”
“Then how could you leave me? Why aren’t we close anymore? I want us to have ‘us’ back. Why can’t we have that?”
“I want that, too.” Jemma slid closer to Emily Rose on the couch and they shared a box of tissues Emily Rose had grabbed from an end table.
“Remember how I always said I wished you were my sister instead of Tara?” Emily Rose put her head on Jemma’s shoulder.
Jemma nodded, lying her head against Emily Rose’s.
The Davis Years (Indigo) Page 13
