by Iris Morland
Back home. Was Heron’s Landing even his home anymore?
They walked the streets of downtown Columbia, which were deserted. The students at the nearby University of Missouri had all gone home for winter break, and as it was too early for anyone else to be around, it felt like a ghost town. Adam took Jaime to a coffee shop that had a grand total of one person inside, making drinks. Probably a college student who didn’t have the money to travel home, Jaime thought.
After getting two large mugs of black coffee and a few pastries, the two men sat at a table in the back. Jaime wrapped his hands around the mug, only just noticing how cold he was. Adam looked at him and then, without a word, went and got him a large glass of water, which he pushed toward him with another look.
Jaime gulped the water. It helped. Adam pushed a croissant toward him, which he ate with gusto. He realized he hadn’t eaten for almost twelve hours.
Now feeling slightly more human, Jaime sipped his coffee and stared at his friend and boss from across the table. The boss who had betrayed him, and the friend who had bailed him out. He couldn’t find any words to say, so he sipped his coffee and waited.
“How are you?” Adam asked, tearing a Danish into tiny pieces.
Jaime just drank his coffee. “I’m fucking exhausted,” he muttered.
“I’m sure.” Adam kept tearing at the Danish; he hadn’t touched his coffee. “Look, Jaime…”
Jaime put up a hand. “I’m too tired to hear your excuses.”
“I don’t have excuses, just explanations.” At Jaime’s look, Adam sighed. “I didn’t press charges. Sheriff Jennings did. I’ll admit I wasn’t sure what to think when it happened.”
“You thought I was guilty.”
When Adam didn’t say anything, Jaime had his answer. The coffee turned sour in his stomach. He’d thought as much, but there was nothing like having it confirmed.
“I’ll be honest: I thought you were guilty for about a day.” Adam clutched his mug of coffee, having given up on the Danish. “But then I thought about it, and I knew you couldn’t be. And then Grace basically ripped my head off and showed me all of the receipts and checks she’d found in my office…”
Jaime stilled. Grace had confronted her family—for him?
“What did Grace tell you?” Jaime stared at the inside of his mug.
“If you mean, did she tell us about what’s going on between you two? She said nothing. But she’s been looking for evidence to prove your innocence for weeks. She came to my place after you’d been arrested and gave me an earful. She said that if I didn’t bail you out she’d never speak to me again and probably poison my water supply.”
Jaime smiled a little. “She would, too.”
“But although the threat of poisoning was concerning, it wasn’t why I bailed you out.”
Looking up, Jaime saw his friend smiling sadly.
“I did it because I know you’re innocent. I did it because I should’ve worked harder to keep you out of this mess. I did it because I’m sorrier than I can ever explain—for all of this.”
When Adam said all of this, Jaime had a feeling he meant not only the stolen money, but also his demand to stay away from Grace. Torn between anger that it’d taken Adam this long to realize this and relief that his friend believed in him, Jaime said nothing. He didn’t know what to say about anything anymore.
“I also want you to know that I’ll help any way I can, with lawyers and everything.” Adam’s brow furrowed, like he wasn’t sure if Jaime were listening. “And your job at River’s Bend is still waiting for you, too.”
Jaime had the sudden wish to see Grace. To hear her voice. To have her arms around him. To bury his face in that long blonde hair. She could make him feel like a person again.
He cleared his throat. “Thanks,” he said. It was all he could say at this point.
Adam nodded, like he understood.
They finished their coffee and drove back to Heron’s Landing, saying little on the way there. Jaime didn’t know if they could ever be close friends again. It was difficult to trust someone who had lost their trust in you, even if it had only been for a day. But he was also so exhausted he could barely think straight. He just needed to go home, he needed to sleep, he needed to call his parents. He knew Adam would let him have his job back, but he didn’t want it anymore. To return to the vineyard, to have his coworkers judging him, always thinking he was going to steal again? To have Chris look at him like a criminal, to have Eric sneer at him?
He’d rather cut his arm off than go back there.
After Adam had dropped Jaime off at his house, Jaime sat in his living room, not knowing how to move. How to think. How to be. It was the strangest feeling. It was like he couldn’t recognize anything in his house. The couch, the photos, the plates on the counter, the leftover food in the fridge—none of it was his. It didn't even smell the same. How did that happen? He hadn’t been gone for longer than day.
As morning passed into afternoon, Jaime got up and took a shower. He threw out the clothes he’d worn to jail. He saw the papers from the police station and it was like something switched inside of him. His exhaustion melted away until only that rage he’d felt inside his cell took over again. His vision turned red, his fists clenched, and he watched himself—like he’d been separated from his body—kneel onto the ground, his head in his hands. A scream tried to escape from his throat, but nothing came out.
He had to get out of here. He put on his tennis shoes and jacket and made his way down to the river, the same spot he’d found Grace all those weeks ago. But when he got there, it was just him and the river, and he was glad of it. He shouted and swore and threw rocks into the water, pacing and swearing and letting all of the blackness pour out of him. It was cathartic; it was exhausting. If he thought about how he was behaving, he’d probably be embarrassed. But it felt good. He exorcised the sharpest corners of his rage until his emotions muted, until he felt drained but relieved.
He collapsed on the riverbank, breathing hard. He laughed a little. He was probably hysterical. He imagined Grace seeing him, telling him he was an idiot. He was an idiot. The biggest idiot in the universe, to fall in love with a girl he’d told himself he couldn’t have.
Jaime stayed at the river, staring at the water flowing by. Many of the usual birds had flown south for the winter, so it was just crows squalling in the trees. After a while, Jaime started to shiver from the cold. He knew he couldn’t sit here forever, even if he wished that he could.
Returning home, he stripped out of his dirty clothes and began packing. Before that, though, he called his parents and told them what had happened. His mother cried while his father had barely spoken, but Jaime assured them that he would get this figured out. He knew he didn’t sound convinced, but his parents didn’t argue. Instead, they pressed him to come home, and he agreed. He needed to go home. It didn’t matter that he was almost thirty years old: sometimes you just needed to go home to your parents when your heart was broken.
Jaime stuffed clothes into his suitcase, snagging shoes and random toiletries. Did it even matter what he took? It all felt so pointless now. He still didn’t have his laptop, so he’d have to use his parents’ ancient desktop for the time being. Luckily, most of his files were in the cloud, so he could access his resume and start applying for jobs.
He knew, though, that he was avoiding what he had to do before leaving. He had to see Grace. He ached to see her, to hold her, although the thought of saying goodbye made him freeze in his tracks.
He texted her, asking her where she was staying. Her response was immediate. I’m at Joy’s again. Are you okay? Adam told me he’d gotten you out and I wanted to come see you, but I thought you might need some time alone.
How did she know him so well? He shook his head, sighing. I’ll be over in a little bit, if Joy doesn’t mind.
She says it’s fine. She says she can go over to Adam’s for the night.
Jaime drove over to Joy’s, parking outside. He s
aw Mike come out of the general store, and the older man just raised his eyebrows at Jaime’s appearance. He was sure the whole town knew of his arrest and subsequent release. But at this point, he didn’t care.
Joy opened the door when he arrived. She looked tired, but relieved.
“You look terrible,” she said. “Let me get you something to drink. Grace, Jaime’s here.”
Grace came out, and she looked as tired as he felt. She went to him, hugging him tightly, and he did the same. He hugged her so hard that she made a squeaky sound, but she didn’t tell him to stop.
Joy put a hand on his arm. “You guys talk. I’m going over to Adam’s. Feel free to eat whatever you want. I’m glad you’re back, by the way.”
“Thanks, Joy,” Jaime said.
She nodded, grabbing her purse and coat and closing the door quietly behind her.
He and Grace stood there, their arms wrapped around each other. He heard a sniffle, and he realized that she was crying.
He tipped her head back. “Please don’t cry,” he urged. “I can’t stand it.”
“How can I not cry? All of this—I can’t…”
He pulled her closer, until it was like their bodies were completely entwined. She cried, and he cried, and then she looked up at him with those eyes.
She kissed him, and it was like coming home again.
Chapter Seventeen
Grace knew they needed to talk about what had happened. She needed to know what had happened to him in the past twenty-four hours, as she’d been imagining all sorts of terrible things. She only knew that Jaime had been arrested and that Adam had bailed him out. And now he was here, with her, and kissing her like it was the last time he’d ever see her.
She didn’t want this to be the end. So she clung to him, like she was ivy encircling him, the stoic oak tree who could shelter her from the harshest elements.
They didn’t make it to the bedroom. Jaime picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her to the living room couch. He sat down with her with her in his lap, and she could feel his hardness through their dual layer of jeans. She ran her fingers through his hair; his day’s worth of stubble scratched at her cheeks and lips, but she didn’t care.
His hands trailed up her belly. She gasped as his fingers cupped her breast through her bra. Still kissing her, they both groaned as he played with her, plucking at her nipple, making her squirm against him. Clothes suddenly seemed completely unnecessary. Drawing back, she lifted her shirt over her head, her hair tumbling down to her waist. She was about to put it up so it wouldn’t get in the way, but Jaime stopped her.
“I want to see it down.” He reached to run his fingers through its strands, touching her skin as he did so. “I want to see you naked with your hair down as you ride me.”
His words sparked something inside of her. She kissed him, gripping his shoulders. He reached behind her and unclasped her bra. She shucked off her jeans and panties, and he unbuckled his belt. Unzipping his jeans, she pulled his cock free, and he groaned as she stroked him.
Grace couldn’t help but marvel that this man wanted her. She couldn’t believe she was here, with his hands all over her, his breath mingling with her own, his cock in her hand. He palmed her ass as she fondled him, and it only made her desire increase. His clever fingers trailed down until he parted her folds, feeling how wet she was.
She rubbed against him. If he just went slightly higher, she knew she’d come. She was already that close. She made a humming noise in the back of her throat, but Jaime just kept playing with her, only making her crazier.
When his thumb brushed her clit, she shuddered. “I’m not going to last much longer,” she moaned.
He kissed her breast. “Then don’t.” He rubbed that thumb of his again, and she went off. She gave a long moan and felt her entire body tremble. She had to lean forward and grip his shoulders to keep her balance. She melted; her bones turned to jelly. Gasping and moaning, she felt Jaime grip her hip with one hand as his other hand continued to touch her with feather-light brushes.
Grace needed him inside of her, but when he reached inside his back pocket to unfold his wallet, she was momentarily confused. As he plucked a condom from the wallet’s depths, she laughed.
“You’re prepared.” She took the foil packet and ripped it open before smoothing the latex down his cock.
He hitched his hips as she touched his cock. “I thought it’d be rude to keep stealing Joy’s.”
But all words were lost when she felt him probe at her entrance, so hot and hard. He held her hips again, but told her to take control. She felt for his cock and slowly descended upon it, feeling every inch of him as he stretched her. It didn’t hurt, but she felt full, almost overwhelmed. Breathing in pants, she moved until he was inside of her completely, her ass against his jean-covered thighs.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, tangling his fingers in her hair as he kissed her. “Fuck, you feel amazing.”
She shuddered. She moved her hair over to one shoulder, and it brushed her nipples as she began to ride him. Beginning with shallow strokes, she worked him, not wanting this to be over too soon. He clutched at her hips, almost painfully so, but it only egged her on. Soon her rhythm increased until the sounds of their bodies coming together filled the room. From then on, it was only gasps and moans and exclamations of right there and yes, God, yes. Grace could feel her body spiraling again, could feel herself clenching around his cock, and when he leaned her forward he hit a new spot that made her pant.
They stared into each other’s eyes as their bodies climbed upward, and it was the most erotic thing Grace had ever experienced. Watching Jaime’s eyes darken, his cheeks slightly flushed, his mouth open, his hair falling across his forehead. The way his hands held her hips and brought her up and down as she rode him, how his cock reached places inside of her she never imagined existed. She breathed his name just as her body shattered, her hair a curtain around them. She heard him say something, but it was lost in the ecstasy of the moment.
She vaguely heard him shout. Then his body shook, and they kissed, teeth and tongues tangling; it was messy and almost savage but Grace didn’t care. She didn’t care if she ended up bloodied and bruised. It would only serve to remind her of everything that had happened with this man underneath her.
But reality soon returned to the both of them. Grace got dressed again and Jaime put his shirt back on, and they spooned together on the couch. She stroked his arm, feeling his heart pound against her back. She suddenly wished she could sleep forever.
“Can you tell me what happened?” she whispered, concentrating on the dark hair scattered across his wrist and forearm.
She felt him shift and sigh. His leg brushed against hers. Finally, he told her about getting booked, about sitting in the jail cell, about how Adam bailed him out. His voice took on a deadened quality, and she could tell there was more to it than he was saying. She wondered what he thought about, sitting there, not knowing what would happen next. She stroked his arm, as if she could soothe the pain away with her fingers.
She brought his arm between her breasts, cradling it. He pressed his face against her, muffling his voice. She didn’t know what he was saying or if he were saying anything at all. But she felt his body tremble, and she knew that she’d keep him, close to her heart, for as long as it took to bring him back to himself.
“But they’re still pressing charges?” Grace turned around to see his face now.
He brushed his fingers across her forehead. “As far as I know. They just let me out on bail. I’ll still have a court date.” He huffed out a breath. “I think it’s time I get a lawyer. Even though I’m not sure how I’ll afford a decent one.”
“But we can work to find more evidence, right? We’re so close. We both know it was Eric who set you up.”
Jaime didn’t say anything. He just touched her lightly, like he was memorizing her shape. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he admitted.
&nbs
p; “Why not? Who else is going to do it but us?”
“You keep saying us. Graciela, I can’t let you keep doing this.” He stroked her cheek. “You’re at odds with your family because of this. Because of me. And who knows what Eric will do. He’s a wild card. I’m not going to put you in danger for me.”
She stared at him. Was he really giving up? “I’m not just going to let you rot in jail.”
“I know that, and I’m grateful for your help. But I’m also know that if you push further, something is going to happen.”
She was about to tell him he was overreacting, but at the look on his face, she bit her cheek instead. She didn’t feel like she was in any danger, and her family could go rot. This was about him, not anyone else.
At her stubborn expression, he pressed her fingers. “Don’t do anything else. Please. For me? This is my battle, not yours.”
Her heart sunk, but she nodded tightly. The thought of giving up when they were so close ate at her. But Jaime’s relieved sigh showed her that in this way, she could take off at least one of the many burdens on his shoulders.
And at any rate, she could keep working without him ever knowing about it.
Jaime left to go home shortly thereafter. Although Grace had asked what he was going to do, he’d just shaken his head and kissed her goodbye. She didn’t know what that meant. Was he staying here? She didn’t want him to leave, of course, but at the same time, she’d have a difficult time staying in a place that had thought so poorly of her.
The thought was too depressing, though. Leaving Joy’s to get some fresh air, Grace wandered down Main Street, running into a few locals but for the most part, keeping to herself. The day was cold, and as she walked by the buildings and saw all of the Christmas lights and trees decorated in the windows, she realized that Christmas was only a week away. How had that happened?
She stood in front of the local antiques shop, where they’d put up a bright silver tree covered in pink lights and ornaments. The shop owner, Dotty, had a thing for pink. The entire window had spots of pink: a pink tree skirt adorned the bottom of the tree, and was that pink cotton snow underneath? For some reason, the bright lights of the tree and the vague sound of Christmas music brought tears to her eyes.