Home To You

by Robin Kaye

“Are you staying with Addie, then?”

  “No, I came up to the hunting cabin. I thought I could come up here and no one in town would know. I wanted to be alone and reassess my life, and, more importantly, no one would e-mail or call my parents and tell them what happened. I don’t want to ruin their vacation.”

  “Okay, I can understand that.”

  Erin might understand, but she couldn’t keep the sound of hurt and disappointment out of her voice.

  “I turned up the trail to the cabin and broke the axle on my Jeep. So there I was, sitting in my broken-down car, crying my eyes out, and the next thing I know, there’s a guy knocking on my window.”

  “But you said the cabin was miles from anywhere.”

  “It is. It turns out Dad rented the cabin to someone at a reduced rate in exchange for fixing the place up. I was stuck—the Jeep wasn’t going anywhere, so he invited me to stay. It was too late to go hiking to the closest house, so now I’m here with Jack.”

  “Are you nuts? You’re staying with a complete stranger who is serving as your parents’ handyman? What do you know about this guy? Give me the address, and I’ll come get you.”

  “You don’t have to. Jack is great, really. I told you about how my dad checks out everyone who rents any of the houses on Sullivan’s Tarn, so I know he’s not an ax murderer. It turns out we have a lot in common. He’s up here for the same reasons I am—”

  “He lost his job and his fiancé left him too?”

  “No, at least I don’t think so. I never asked him if he was involved with someone else. He doesn’t wear a wedding ring.”

  “Someone else? You make it sound as if the two of you are involved. What’s going on? And just because he doesn’t wear a ring doesn’t necessarily mean he’s not married. Most men who work with their hands don’t wear rings—it’s a hazard. I went on a couple of dates with a carpenter who lost his ring finger because his wedding ring got caught on a nail while he was falling off a roof. He survived the fall—his finger, however, didn’t, and neither did his marriage, apparently.”

  Kendall’s face tightened. Could that be why Jack put the brakes on their, for lack of a better word, kiss? Could he be in a relationship with someone else? God, and she’d practically thrown herself at him. Of course, she’d planned to only kiss him, but that Robert Burns poem was as true now as the day he wrote it: The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men/Gang aft agley. Or, in her case, incendiary. And what was the poor guy supposed to do? She knew he was attracted her; that wasn’t the problem.

  “Kendall, are you still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. I was just thinking.”

  “So, on a scale of one to ten, how hot is this guy Jack?”

  “Off-the-charts hot—maybe even hotter. I think there are dimples hiding behind his vacation beard. It’s hard to tell, though.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And he could use a haircut, but I kind of like the just-curling-over-the-collar, a-little-on-the-scruffy-side look.”

  “You do? David was always so . . . I don’t know, perfectly groomed.”

  “Not Jack—no, he and David are nothing alike. And what can I say? The man looks great in a tool belt. The whole slightly scruffy, he-man thing really works for him.”

  “Is it working for him or for you?”

  “For him. Jack and I are friends.”

  “I see.” The way Erin said that had all the hair on Kendall’s arms standing at attention. “Kendall, there are all kinds of friends. What kind of friends are you and Jack?”

  “He says we’re friends with no boundaries, and I’m trying to figure out what that means, so I called you. I’m completely out of my depth. I’ve never done this before, remember?”

  “Yes, you have.”

  “Not since I was prepubescent. It’s different as an adult.”

  “What happened?”

  “I kissed him, all right? He was sitting on his bed, with his head in his hands, groaning. I thought he had a headache—he gets wicked bad headaches since he went headfirst into a tree—and, well, I’d just finished getting dressed—”

  “He’s seen you naked?”

  “No. But he’s seen me in my nightgown. By mistake. Twice.”

  “How does one see you in your nightgown by mistake, twice?”

  “The first time, I woke up reaching for David, and then I remembered everything that happened. I was lying in bed, reliving every word. It was ugly—you can’t imagine. Anyway, I’m lying there sobbing uncontrollably, and the next thing I know Jack runs in the room like he’s ready to fight an attacker or something. He takes one look at me in all my snotty, midmeltdown glory, picks me up as if I were a child, sits me on his lap, and lets me continue to cry all over him. It was a little awkward once I calmed down and he realized what I’d worn to bed.”

  “Why? What do you wear to bed?”

  “Well, you know how David was. He had a fit when we moved in together and he realized I slept in Tshirts and shorts in the summer and sweatshirts and sleep pants in the winter. He insisted I wear the kind of slinky, sexy nightgowns you see in magazines.”

  “You wear those kinds of nightgowns with your body, and they actually stayed on you for more than a minute?”

  “Unfortunately, with David, yes.”

  “Seriously? And you put up with that?”

  “Yeah, I did. I always chalked it up to picking my battles. I think I did that a lot.”

  “So, what happened when Jack got an eyeful of you in all your snotty sexiness?”

  “He was a gentleman and avoided looking at me, and his voice got all deep and gravelly, and, well, he looked, I don’t know, overheated.”

  “I’ll just bet he did.”

  “Then he made an excuse and hightailed it out of my room.”

  “Okay, so that was Sex Sighting Number One. What happened the second time?”

  “That was this morning. He was up on the roof working, making an unholy racket, and I heard a strange sound coming from his bedroom. I knew he was on the roof, so I went to look, and the ceiling was falling down.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. The plaster ceiling was cracking and falling, so I ran out to tell him to stop banging on the roof.”

  “In your nightgown.”

  “Well, I hardly had time to get dressed, now, did I? Anyway, I told him about the ceiling, and we both ran inside, and the next thing I know, he goes all he-man and pulls me to him, like I needed protection from the plaster.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Don’t give me that. It was entirely innocent. Anyway, he got all grumbly again and told me to go get dressed.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “No, I’m not. So I went to get dressed, and when I was finished, I heard him groan, like he was in pain.”

  “I’m sure he was. I hear a case of blue balls is terribly uncomfortable.”

  “Erin, I thought he had another one of his bad headaches. When I went to his room, he was sitting on his bed with his head in his hands, so I knelt down in front of him to make sure he was okay. And, well, the look in his eyes was not from pain—even I have enough experience with men to know that look.”

  “Oh, really? So what did he do?”

  “Nothing. I . . . well, I kissed him.”

  “And?”

  “God, Erin, David was the only man I ever kissed besides my dad, and he doesn’t count. I didn’t know it could be like that. It never was with David—not even close. Not even on the same spectrum. I mean, I felt a little tingly and all, but with Jack, it was—”

  “Mind-blowing? Earthshaking? An out-of-body experience?”

  “Yeah, that.”

  “Oh, my. So, what went wrong? I know something did, because you don’t sound like you’ve just had the best sex of your life. You wouldn’t be calling me if you had.”

  “We didn’t. Not for lack of trying on my part. I was on top of him, and, well, I knew I wasn’t the only one into it. But when I ripped off my shirt,
he sat up and told me we needed to stop. He said I was on the rebound, and he didn’t want to be my rebound guy, and that he was being a gentleman. He said he wanted to be friends.”

  “Friends? Really? He actually said that?” Erin gave her a highly articulate, all-men-are-bastards growl.

  “God, Erin, I wanted to die. How pathetic am I? I practically jumped an injured man who probably has a wife or girlfriend waiting for him at home.”

  “First of all, give yourself a break. He can’t be that injured if he’s up working on the roof in January, for God’s sake. And you don’t know that there’s anyone in his life. Although if Jack’s as hot as you say he is, then there’s a distinct possibility. But look at Cam—he’s the hottest man I’ve ever known, and he hadn’t had a relationship in more than two years.”

  “Only because Janie was in and out of the hospital. Having a seven-year-old with a brain tumor would tend to make dating difficult.”

  “Or maybe he was just waiting for me.”

  “Maybe he was waiting for me to fix you up with him. You’re welcome, by the way.” She could almost hear Erin rolling her eyes. “I knew you’d be perfect for both Cam and Janie, and I was right.”

  “Oh no, Kendall. We’re not discussing me. This is your therapy session, remember?”

  “Isn’t that convenient?”

  “Oh yeah, for me it is. It’s not too comfortable lying on the therapist’s couch, is it? Now you know how I feel.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So, how did you leave it with Jack?”

  “He told me to put my shirt back on.”

  *

  Jax hiked to Jaime’s house, kicking himself the whole way there. God, how could he have been so stupid? Friends without boundaries—what the hell? He didn’t even know where he came up with that brilliant idea. No wonder she’d looked at him like he’d gone nuts. And that was right before her face froze in horror.

  He’d never forget Kendall’s look of shock and humiliation when he pushed her away. She’d been primed and ready and more than willing, and like an idiot he had gone and turned into a fucking Boy Scout. “I did the right thing.” If he kept repeating that, maybe he’d start to believe it.

  It wouldn’t have been fair to Kendall to take advantage of her in a time of weakness. But no matter how many times he told himself that, the other part of his mind was calling him everything from a coward to a fool. Hadn’t he told Rocki that it takes a brave person to allow someone to get close, and risk losing them in the end? Looks like he could give advice but he couldn’t take it.

  It hadn’t helped that he’d relived every second of their encounter over and over and over again. The way she tasted, the softness of her skin, the scent of her all hot and bothered, and the sounds she made. God, those sounds would haunt him until the day he died.

  He did his best to readjust himself. He didn’t think his dick would ever forgive him, which explained his constant erection. A long hike in the bitter cold should have solved his not so little problem. Unfortunately, it only served to make the hike to Jaime’s house that much more uncomfortable. He stepped wide, hoping to help things settle in his pants. God, he must look ridiculous.

  When he reached Jaime’s cabin he stopped on the porch, took a few deep breaths, and willed his hard-on to disappear. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there in the cold, but none of the old standby erection crushers of his youth were working. Not even picturing his ninth-grade Spanish teacher, Mrs. Parker’s, wrinkly prune face did the trick. He might have had half a chance if the sight of Kendall straddling him, wearing only a pair of jeans and a baby-pink bra, would stop flashing through his brain.

  There was no solution for it. As it was, his nose was frozen, and he couldn’t feel his toes. He couldn’t stand there freezing any longer; he’d just have to go inside and keep his jacket on. No problem.

  The cabin door opened before he’d even knocked and revealed Jaime wearing his typical shit-eating grin. “Are you coming in, or are you going to stand there freezing your balls off for another ten minutes?”

  Ten minutes? That sounded like a long time. Jax tugged his jacket down and smiled, doing his best to make it look natural. “I have a problem.” A big, big problem. Her name was Kendall. But that wasn’t why he came.

  “Just one? Come on in, take off your coat, grab a cup, and tell me about it while I finish my breakfast.”

  Jax followed Jaime inside. “It’s wicked cold this morning.” He tried for a convincing shiver and unbuttoned his jacket but kept it on. “Coffee sounds good. Thanks.” He made tracks to the kitchen and kept his back to Jaime while he filled a mug.

  Jaime sat at the breakfast bar and ate with one eye on him. “I saw you stomping around outside, like a bull separated from the cows but within scenting distance, so you might as well come clean. What’s up?”

  He almost groaned. “I need some drywall. It turns out the roof leak was worse than I thought, and now the ceiling in my bedroom is falling down.”

  “Uh-huh, but that’s not why you stood out on the porch in the freezing cold for ten minutes, nor is it why you’re still wearing a coat when it’s seventy-four degrees in here.”

  This time he didn’t bother stifling his groan. He took a sip of really good coffee and leaned against the counter. “Kendall came running outside straight from bed to tell me the ceiling in my room was caving in, wearing a nightgown right out of Maxim—not only was it hot as hell, it was classy. I never knew women actually wore things like that to bed—not to sleep anyway.” He shook his head, trying once again to erase the image of her.

  “What the hell was she doing in your room?” Anger followed confusion. “You went there, didn’t you? And if she was in your room, why weren’t you there with her? What the hell is wrong with you? Are you nuts?”

  Jax was just about to tell Jaime that it wasn’t any of his business what he did or didn’t do.

  “You did. You so went there. Damn, what’s it been—a week?”

  He wasn’t sure how long he’d known Kendall. All he knew was that it felt as if he’d known her for a long, long time—long enough for him to imagine doing any number of things with and to her. Time was relative, especially to him.

  “Damn, and I thought I’d gone fast with my last girlfriend. It took me a good two weeks before I found out what she wore to bed, and, believe me, what I found out would never be shown in any magazine, and it definitely wasn’t classy.”

  “Kendall wasn’t staying in my room, and, no, I didn’t go there.” But, God, he’d wanted to. “Nothing happened.” Nothing he wanted to discuss with Jaime. But something had happened. Something he was sure would change his life. The question was, Would it change in a good way or a very, very bad way? He figured right now, the odds were not in his favor.

  “Oh, right, nothing happened. I believe that. If nothing happened, then why are you walking around like you have a tent pole in your pants? Something happened. And you’d better hope to hell that her daddy doesn’t find out you’ve been sampling the goods, or you’ll wish that tree you hit had finished you off.”

  “She kissed me—that’s all. And I put a stop to it as soon as I could.”

  Jaime just raised an imperious brow. “She must be one hell of a kisser, then.”

  Jaime had no idea, and if Jax had anything to say about it, he never would. “What the hell am I going to do? I put a stop to it this time, but, Christ, Jaime, I’m no saint. And Kendall, well, she’s—”

  “The hottest thing to come out of Harmony in the past fifty years?”

  “I was going to say she’s special. But nothing happened, and nothing can happen until she figures out where her head is and I figure out what’s going on with mine. She’s on the rebound, and I’m . . . damaged.”

  “Maybe your big head is, but your little head has a mind of its own. Besides, you said yourself there’s no telling how your brain will heal. Are you planning to be a monk for the rest of your life? Just because you can’t count doesn’t mean you c
an’t have a relationship. And it doesn’t sound like your little disability makes a damn bit of difference to Kendall Watkins.” He stopped and then raised an eyebrow. “She knows about it, right?”

  “You said it yourself: we’ve been sharing a small cabin for more than a week. Of course she knows. And, believe me, there’s a definite attraction. I just don’t want to be Kendall’s one regret.”

  Jaime laughed at that and stood, collecting his plate and coffee cup, and then headed to the sink. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m sure the past twelve years with David is number one on the list of Kendall’s regrets.”

  “Shit, Jaime, it’s not only that. She’s . . . innocent. She’s never dated anyone but that jerk. It’s a lot of pressure when a woman tells you she’s only ever kissed one other man.”

  “She said that? Wow, I guess that sucks for her, because David didn’t let the fact that he was dating Kendall ever stop him from sampling the goods from half the girls in school when he lived here. He was always a bit of a horn dog. Lord only knows what he did in college. Kendall went to Boston College, and he went to Harvard, so it would have been easy to for him to double dip, if you get my drift. Hell, if I remember correctly, Kendall even caught him feeling up Suzie Charles once. You know Suzie—she had a rack that you could shelve a six-pack on and still have enough room to play. I was surprised Kendall didn’t dump his sorry ass then.”

  “If I have anything to say about it, David will be the last man to take advantage of her. I’m not going to. So, for now at least, we’re friends, and that’s all. Now.” He pulled the room measurements from his jacket pocket. “I need some drywall, mud, and tape. Do you think you could make a run to the Home Depot in Concord for me?”

  Jaime snapped the dishwasher door closed and wiped his hands on a towel. “Sure, but not for a few days. I’m in the weeds. I’m replacing the hydraulics on a Range Rover and rebuilding a transmission. But if you want, you and Kendall can take my truck and go yourselves. The keys are in the ignition. It will be good for the both of you to get out of the cabin.” He turned and shot Jax a smile. “That should keep you safe for a few hours, at least.”

  “Safe?”