by Vivian Wood
They both stared at each other: Rose with an eyebrow raised, Seth slowly putting it all together.
Then, Seth just said, “Oh.”
“This proves he cares about her. Maybe something has already happened between them. And he acts like I’m crazy anytime I mention it!”
“Probably because you’re his sister. And he’s into my sister.” Seth groaned. “My brain hurts. I need a drink now.”
Rose didn’t mention the lock of hair again, but she knew it had been Jubilee’s.
The real question was: why had Heath had it in the first place? She knew her brother wouldn’t have sneaked into Jubilee’s place or something creepy like that to acquire it. So, had Jubilee given it to him?
“I know you’re going to turn this into some mystery,” Seth said with a wry smile, “and I know I can’t stop you.”
“I’m glad you know me so well.”
“And I love you anyway.”
She gave him a smacking kiss, which resulted in him pinching her ass. “I love you, too,” she gasped.
“My princess,” he said, and they returned to the house, laughing together.
Jubilee Thornton gazed into the mirror and said to herself, “Stop being such a scaredy-cat.” She thrust a finger at her reflection, which she barely recognized. With the short hair, the makeup, and the Halloween costume, she’d felt like a new woman. A sexy, confident woman.
A woman who could get any man she wanted—except that one she did, in fact, want.
Well, she couldn’t blame the man in question, because whenever she was around Heath DiMarco, she turned shy and awkward. She said stupid things. Sometimes she managed to flirt, but he never flirted back.
Until tonight. At least, she’d thought he’d flirted with her.
“Stop. Being. A. Scaredy. Cat.” She tapped the mirror one last time for good measure.
Jubilee had been scared her whole life. She’d been scared of dying, she’d been scared of doing things alone. She’d been scared of living.
She was tired of being scared, and the only way to overcome her fears was to face them.
She was going to ask Heath DiMarco out. On a date.
Her heart fluttered, and she took a deep breath.
Someone knocked on the bathroom door, making her jump. “Hey, are you done yet? Sorry, but I’m about to pee my pants.”
Jubilee opened the door to find Abby on the other side, smiling from a little too much alcohol. “Hey, Jubi. How are you? God, I have to pee.”
“So you said.”
Abby laughed, and Jubilee shut the bathroom door before everyone saw how much Abby had had to drink that night.
Really, if anyone should be drinking, it should be Jubilee.
It was near midnight when she returned to the living room, where most everyone had been hanging out. Megan sat in Caleb’s lap, his hand over her belly, both looking like they’d conquered the world. Rose and Seth had disappeared—unsurprisingly—Sara and Harrison were in a corner whispering, and James had fallen asleep on the couch, Bea at the end of the couch, surrounded by rolled-up blankets so she didn’t roll off the couch. Mark was looking at his phone, clearly having had enough socializing for the night.
Trent’s brother, Ash, and his sister, Thea, were talking with some of Harrison’s coworkers, including Jackie, a nurse at Harrison’s practice, and Linda, a fellow teacher at Sara’s school. There were some people Jubilee didn’t know well, others she didn’t recognize.
Despite all of the people, Jubilee felt alone. It had been strange, watching all of her siblings find significant others one by one, until only Jubilee was left.
And who would love her? She’d done nothing extraordinary with her life. She didn’t have a fiery nature like Megan, or a sweetness like Sara. She wasn’t brave like Rose. She was just…herself.
Poor Jubilee, she’s never done anything, has she?
She’d heard those words many times, sometimes from her own family members. It hurt—because it was true. She hadn’t gone to college, she hadn’t traveled; she’d only gotten her own place and a job at Megan’s bakery two years ago.
I can’t change the past, but I can change the future.
With that in mind, she went in search of the man she’d had a crush on since she’d met him seven years ago. She’d never had the courage to do anything about it, because she was shy and self-conscious, and Heath was her brothers’ friend. He’d always treated her like a little sister.
Jubilee ducked into the kitchen and only found Trent and Lizzie kissing, which made her roll her eyes as she hurried out. She wandered outside, rubbing her arms from the chill. She should’ve brought a jacket, but it would’ve ruined her costume.
Her dress swished as she moved, and her heels almost got stuck in the mud from the latest rainstorm. Leaves crunched under her heels, the perennial sound of autumn.
Harrison’s house wasn’t as large as her parents’, but it certainly wasn’t a tiny bungalow, either. He had a swimming pool in the back, along with a small garden next to the pool that allowed a measure of privacy.
Jubilee had always wondered if Harrison hadn’t installed the garden on purpose for his own rendezvous.
She was about to give up when she heard someone mutter something. Coming around a bend, she found Heath sitting on a bench, his legs outstretched, his arms crossed. He started a little when she approached.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” she said, breathless. The moon had edged him in white light, and it was rather absurd, but it made him seem mysterious. Like a prince from a fairy tale.
Don’t be an idiot, she admonished herself.
“Jubilee, what are you doing out here? You’ll freeze.” Standing, he shrugged out of his sport coat and draped it over her shoulders.
She noticed that he didn’t linger in touching her. In fact, he seemed to toss the coat onto her instead.
Pulling the coat closer, she inhaled his scent from the fabric. The residual warmth enveloped her, making it seem like he was embracing her.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “What are you doing out here? Howling at the moon?”
His lips quirked. “Not exactly, just have a lot on my mind.”
“Like what?”
He blinked in surprise before looking away. “Nothing that should matter to you. It’s cold out here—let’s go inside.”
“No.” At his confusion, she added, blushing, “No, I mean, we can stay out here. I’m not cold now. Are you cold?”
It took him a long moment to reply. “No, I’m not cold.”
Ask him out. Ask him out. Ask him out. The words were on the tip of her tongue, waiting to jump into the deep end. She felt her toes curling over the edge of the diving board.
“Heathwillyougooutwithme,” she blurted.
“What?”
She took a deep breath. She thanked the darkness for hiding her bright red cheeks. “Heath, will you go out with me?”
His stillness sent her hope spiraling down, down, down. He cleared his throat, pushed his fingers through his hair—hair that was the same color as the russet leaves of fall. “Jubilee, I’m flattered—”
She held up a hand. Suddenly, she wasn’t nervous: she was irritated. God, when would people treat her like an adult?
“But I’m Harrison’s sister. I’m too young. You already have somebody else. I get it.”
“No—yes. Kind of.” He sighed. “It’s complicated.”
She didn’t know what caused her to do what she did next. Maybe it was insanity, or sheer bravado. Maybe she was just tired of being pathetic and lonely.
Or maybe she wanted to show Heath that he was making a mistake.
Slipping out of his coat, she moved toward him, until only an inch or two stood between them. She heard him catch his breath, and she exulted in that quiet sound. It meant he wasn’t as uninterested in her as he’d like her to think.
Jubilee didn’t say another word; talking seemed pointless. Her heels gave her extra height so that she
wasn’t much shorter than Heath now. And before she could think about what she was doing, or the consequences, or that all of her brothers were only yards away, she tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and kissed him.
He froze when her mouth touched his. Then, a split second later, he hauled her against him and ravished—positively ravished—her mouth until she couldn’t catch her breath.
And then, as soon as it had started, it ended.
He was panting, and so was she. Her body sizzled.
“You need to go,” he said, his tone harsh.
He wanted her—she knew it. She bit back a smile.
“This is never going to happen.” He picked up his coat and flung it over his shoulder. “Don’t do that ever again.”
Jubilee’s initial bravery wilted in the face of his disdain. Perilously near tears, she replied, “Then you shouldn’t have enjoyed that kiss as much as you did.”
His face was stark in the moonlight. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have.” His tone gentler now, he said, “Go back to the house.”
“Fine.” She sounded childish, and it frustrated her even more. Turning, her ankle turned on the soft ground, and Heath caught her before she fell.
“I’m fine.” She blushed, humiliated. Wrenching her arm away, she stalked away, her dignity in tatters.
She went to the bathroom again and sat on the toilet seat. Forcing the tears back, she pulled herself together. Anger stirred in her belly, and she was rather tempted to smash a vase sitting on a shelf overhead.
“He’s a coward,” she told her reflection. Reflection Jubilee was flushed, her lipstick smeared, and her hair a mess. She looked like hell.
After she put herself to rights, she pointed at herself one last time. “Don’t get mad,” she commanded. “Get even.”
Not ready for Someone to Watch Over Me to end? Sign up for my newsletter to get an exclusive bonus chapter!
And don’t miss Jubilee and Heath’s story in Till There Was You. One fateful night, Jubilee throws caution to the wind and kisses her long-time crush, Heath DiMarco—until he pushes her away and tells her they can never be together. But fate has other plans…
Follow Iris
Facebook
Instagram
BookBub
Amazon
A coffee addict and cat lover, Iris Morland writes sexy and funny contemporary romances. If she's not reading or writing, she enjoys binging on Netflix shows and cooking something delicious.
Sweet Crazy Song
Theresa Leigh
To Nancy
I’m a little broken
I hope you understand
Can you take me as I am?
Can you take me as I am?
God know I ain’t perfect
It’s not like I had planned
Can you take me as I am?
Can you take me as I am
Johnny Black - ‘Take Me As I Am’
Chapter One
Ruby
The piano music died away. There was a stray cough that sounded like Principal Donovan's persistent dry hack. Then, silence.
After a moment, Foster King stood up. His family watched him as he stood at the end of his row of chairs, unfolding a piece of torn notebook paper and smoothing it on his thigh before he walked stiffly to the podium in front of us.
I leaned back and blinked. Watching him meant I had to look at Gideon's casket for the first time. This was the funeral of a man who filled some of the empty space my father left when he died. Not all of it. Who could have?
But now the emptiness was the size of two dads.
My ribs were stuck in place, not expanding or retracting, glued with grief.
When she heard me take a deep, desperate breath, my friend Willa reached over and covered my hand with hers. "You're okay," she mouthed. Always the mother hen, even at a funeral. She handed me a tissue and then reached past me to hand one to Sadie who was sitting on my left. Sadie took it without looking, her eyes faraway, dreaming of being in some place nicer than a funeral home at ten in the morning on a gray November day. Willa nodded as I wiped my nose. "You're okay," she repeated, nodding like the force of her love could make it true.
I nodded, my eyes filling with tears, but she was wrong. I wasn't okay. Gideon was in that box. My second chance at a father figure, my mentor at the school, and he was gone now.
I knew people thought it was strange that a twenty-three year old woman and a forty-six year old man could be such good friends. Good friends without a trace of the weirdness that usually plagues male / female friendships. Gid said it was because I was an old soul and he was a big kid. I told him he was right, then admonished him to sit up straight before he threw his back out.
He always roared with laughter at that.
He was never going to laugh again, and that was the part that hurt the most. How a man like him could just...end. How was I supposed to do anything now?
I dragged my eyes away from that box where Gideon lay silent and still, and back up to the podium.
Mr. King cleared his throat. "Thank you all," he said into the small mic, voice catching before growing stronger. "I am glad to see all of the people here today. My little brother was a hard guy to get to know." His voice caught again. "But an easy guy to love all the same."
Mrs. King was nodding in front row. Claire rested her head on her mom's shoulder, letting her muss her blonde hair absently. Of course my best friend needed to be up there with the rest of her family, rather than sitting back here with her friends. After all, Gideon was her uncle and lived on their property. But if always made me feel unstable when we got together and one of the four of us was missing. Like a bench with only three legs.
Next to Claire, her brother Beau was listening to their father, his spine very straight and tall. Finn, his twin brother, was leaning forward so I couldn't see his face. But I could see their brother Gabriel's face all right, and I had to look away because I knew exactly why he looked so angry.
It was because the seat next to his was empty.
"I know Gideon wouldn't want us to let our sadness cloud the good memories," Mr. King said. His voice was fading and he had to strain it to get to the end of his eulogy as the wind picked up outside. I touched my cheek, feeling the tears start to track their way down. Willa silently handed me another tissue. Sadie blew her nose quietly. "We all loved him," Mr. King went on. "And I know he loved all of us." His eyes glanced up towards the back and stayed there for a moment.
I held my breath, wondering if Jonah King had finally arrived.
But Mr. King just shook his head and looked down again, disappointment flickering across his face. "We're gonna miss you, Giddyup," he said, gruffly patting the casket. "I hope the angels can handle your singing."
A small ripple of nervous titters came up from the crowd. There was a sound of shuffling and then coughing. I looked over to see that everyone was looking at Isobel Tanner, but she showed no sign of moving, only staring straight ahead with a dazed look of disbelief on her face.
Dizzy Izzy, as she was known throughout town, was Gideon's long-term girlfriend. At twenty-eight, she was eighteen years younger than him, much closer to my age than his. I felt a burst of sympathy to see her hunched shoulders, suddenly frail looking without her man at her side. They'd been together ten years now, the only love she'd ever had, and to hear Gid tell it, the only one he'd ever had too.
A hot knife of anger at the unfairness of this all twisted in my gut again as I looked at her. Izzy was fragile, Gid was always saying so. Izzy was the kind of sweet, innocent person the world rushed to protect, to cushion from hurts as deep as this. She should have been selling her herbal tinctures at the Winter Market right now, smiling at all the bundled up kids and touching their heads. She should have been waiting for Gid to pull up in his van to collect her, ready to leap into his arms like their separation had been years instead of hours. This shouldn't have happened to her and it made me so angry that it had.
Izzy
was wearing this light blue dress, totally inappropriate for a funeral, like she had no idea where she was. Her legs were bare, even though it had been sleeting freezing rain this morning when we arrived and...
"Oh shit," I murmured.
"What's wrong?" Willa hissed, leaning in.
"Izzy's barefoot."
Willa looked over and rolled her eyes. "Oh lord. Where are her shoes?"
"No idea." I shook my head. The priest had stepped in and was now talking about eternal rest, which sounded like something Gideon would have hated. I tried to look anywhere else, but those bare, dirty toes seemed seared into my retinas. "I have a pair of sneakers in my car," I whispered to Willa. "I'm going to go grab them for her."
"Don't worry about it, honey," Willa whispered back. "I'm sure she just left them in a corner somewhere."
I glanced at Izzy again. "Maybe, maybe not. I want her to have the option, though."
"Don't try to adopt her now," Willa warned. Which was pretty rich coming from a girl who tucked seven packs of tissues into her purse before coming this morning because she thought Sadie and I would forget. Never mind she was right.
"I'm just getting shoes for her," I said, a little too loudly. Willa's mouth twitched and I knew what she was thinking and she was wrong. I wasn't trying to take care of Izzy just because Gid was gone now. I just...
I had shoes. She needed shoes. Seemed like a no-brainer. It was the right thing to do.
"If it ends before I'm back, tell Claire I'm coming," I told Willa. She shook her head, but Sadie snapped out of her daydream and nodded, still wiping her nose.
I ducked past Willa into the aisle and scooted towards the doors in the back, pausing to rest my hand on Izzy's shoulder as I did. My threadbare woolen coat was hanging in the vestibule. I never wore the thing, but my usual practical bright purple puffy jacket seemed the wrong attire for a funeral.