by Freya Barker
The last few feet she runs, and I barely have time to open my arms and legs before she presses herself against me. Brian and Jordy discreetly disappear through the sliding door, leaving us alone. I bury my face in her curls and wait for her to speak. She doesn’t keep me waiting long.
“I panicked,” she whispers.
“I know.” I stroke my hand up and down the length of her spine. “We’ll work it out,” I promise her.
“I want that,” she says, burrowing a little deeper into my arms, before she adds, “just give me a little time to work a few things out for myself.”
TWENTY-SIX
Jared
The last three days have been hard.
What the hell, the last few weeks have been challenging. Especially for someone who normally likes having his socks and shirts organized by colour. It seems that since I chose the more relaxed lifestyle of rural living, chaos wasn’t too far behind.
When Mia told me she needed time, the balloon of hope that had started filling my chest, just as quickly deflated. If not for Jordy being a voice of reason, cautioning me that by putting too much pressure on her, I’d only chase her further away, I might’ve gone after her again. Instead I did the next best thing, I watched her walk away, while I called Jake and asked him to get a couple more guys out to make sure her cottage would be covered from all sides. At least I could make sure nobody else would be able to spook her either.
Brian stayed the night Saturday because Sunday morning we were expected in the Colts’ offices for ten o’clock. A little unusual, but I’ve gotten used to the fact that there are no weekends in this industry. Contracts are negotiated any day of the week. They’d made it clear they had something to discuss, so that was positive. Of course when we arrived at their offices, we soon found out that they’d gotten wind of the press buzzing. I swear I ground my teeth down to the bone to stay composed when they dove right into my personal life. Brian had prepared me for this, but it still felt like being called into the principal’s office. They seemed satisfied with my explanation of things, indicated they would be happy to finalize our negotiations, but only after I’d made sure the threat of an assault charge was completely eliminated. That made the fact when Taylor Torrence notified us through his lawyers he wouldn’t be able to do the interview until Wednesday, even more frustrating. The prick is dragging us all along and enjoying every sick second of it.
Jordy stayed in touch with Mia, who had asked to be kept up to speed. That, and the knowledge that she’d be here on Wednesday, helped. A little.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay with Ole? I have two bottles pumped in the door of the fridge, but you should be fine with only one,” Jordy says, coming from the nursery where she’s just put her son down for a nap.
“Sure you don’t want me to drive?” I try again, even though I already know the answer. Jordy smiles as she grabs her purse and walks over to kiss my cheek.
“Don’t lose it now, honey. She had Steffie there all day Sunday—and let me just say, that woman is so in your fan club—and she had a good day yesterday. Today is therapy; her regular appointment and then my kind of therapy—the spa.”
“I don’t know if this is a good time to go out in public.” I can tell from the dramatic roll of her eyes, my weak protest is falling on deaf ears.
“Bullshit,” she calls me out. “And you know it. No one will bother us—we’ve got police escort.”
Exactly.
I glare out the window where LeBlanc’s cruiser is just rolling to a stop in the driveway. Damn cop’s been by twice already this weekend. Granted, I called him first. Tore him a new one for putting his hands on my sister, and then asked him what he was planning to do to stop other idiots from coming in over the water and invading our privacy. Twenty minutes later he was knocking on our door, his eyes immediately searching out Jordy, and without a word to me, he went straight for her. At least he had the good sense not to kiss her in front of me.
I watch as he gets out of the vehicle and with sure strides walks up to the front door.
“Be nice,” Jordy says, as she goes up on tiptoes and kisses my cheek. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
My hands are balled into fists in my pockets, as she pulls open the door and smiles at the man on the other side. Fucking guy doesn’t even notice me, his damn eyes are glued to my sister when he reaches out, lifts her chin, and plants a kiss on her. I turn away. It’s either that, or assault on a police officer, and I really don’t need that on top of everything else.
“I’ll keep ‘em safe,” I hear him say from behind me.
“You fucking better,” I growl, and I don’t turn around until I hear the door close.
Like an idiot, I watch him help my sister into the SUV, kissing her a-fucking-gain, before getting in himself. I lose sight of them at the top of the hill, and wait for them to appear at the top of Mia’s drive, where I know they’re headed.
I watch the bounce of her curls as she comes out the door and down the steps where she stops. Her eyes turn this way and I swear she’s looking right at me. Back up the steps she goes, opens the door and lets Griffin out. I can’t hear what she’s saying to the dog, but she’s pointing in this direction, and he obediently comes trotting down the trail as she gets in the back of the cruiser and they drive off.
-
“He’s gonna be there at ten tomorrow morning. I’ll try and get there a little early, but if for some reason I get stuck in traffic, try not to put your hands on him.”
“He’d do well to be on his best behaviour then,” I snort. “One wrong word on his part and I can’t guarantee he’ll be walking by the time you get here.” Brian audibly sighs at my admission, making me feel a little guilty.
“Maybe we should ask LeBlanc to play referee until I get there?” he suggests. Although my instinct is to blow that idea off, it might have some merit. From what little I know of him, I’m pretty sure John won’t take too kindly to anyone even hinting anything negative toward my sister. The cop appears to be quite invested. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have some added pressure to keep Torrence in line.
“Maybe we should,” I repeat back to him, rendering him speechless.
“Well, I’ll be...I thought you didn’t like the guy?”
“He had his mouth on my sister; of course I don’t like him. But it won’t hurt to have another set of eyes looking out for her,” I grumble, to Brian’s hilarity.
“I’ll talk to him,” I cut him off, mid-snicker, before ending the call.
I adjust my grip on Ole’s little butt. Instead of putting him back in his crib, when he fell asleep on my shoulder after his bottle, I’ve kept him with me on the couch while watching some asinine daytime show. Between the white noise from the TV, Griffin’s snores from where he’s lying at my feet, and Ole’s little breaths and whimpers in my neck, I was dozing off when Brian called.
A quick glance at the clock tells me I missed lunch. Griffin’s droopy head lifts briefly when I get up. When I put Ole down in his crib, his face scrunches up, and for a second it looks like he’ll protest, but then his little face evens out again and he’s fast asleep.
I’m just putting the finishing touches on my sandwich when Griffin lifts his head and lets out a soft woof. I look outside, just as LeBlanc’s cruiser stops in front of Mia’s cottage. I try to ignore the pang of disappointment as I watch Mia get out, and with only a glance in this direction, make her way inside. It certainly sticks in my craw to see officer LeBlanc carry a few bags of groceries up to her door.
The dog is already by the sliding door. When I open it for him, he shoots out and with long, loping strides he rushes around the bay.
Dejectedly, I take a bite from my sandwich and wait for my sister to get home.
Mia
“So what is your plan now?”
I’ve just finished an exhausting session with Rueben. He didn’t accept any evasion on my part. Drilled me on my reactions, expectations, and hopes; and had me verbalize any and all
hesitations, fears, and emotions. At the end of my hour, I’d finished his box of tissues and felt wrung out, but my head was clear.
I wiggle my toes in the warm water as I contemplate how to answer Jordy, who had the massage chair next to me. It had been her idea to book us in for pedicures after my appointment, and at this moment, I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this relaxed. The spa is quiet on a Tuesday and I haven’t felt even a hint of panic yet.
“I don’t have a plan, per se. More like a list of things I’d like to explore,” I try to explain.
“Does your list include my brother?” I look up, shocked at the sharp edge to that question, but then I see the emotion on her face.
“Top of my list, honey,” I reassure her, earning a big watery smile.
“Thank God, I’m so relieved. If I have to put up with his mopey ass one more day, I might throw myself off the dock,” Jordy shares with a touch of drama.
“The water’s only about five feet deep there. You could probably stand, or else your cop could—‘cause you know he’d jump in right after you,” I point out chuckling.
“Did you pick your colour?” she asks, completely changing the subject.
She’d told me a little about their dinner Friday night. John had been attentive both with her and the baby and they’d talked for hours. He’d kissed her, which I already knew, and apparently left right after. And she hadn’t seen him since. When he’d finally called last night to see if she wanted to grab lunch, she told him she already had plans, which had led to him driving us today. Something she made sure she let him know this morning, she wasn’t too happy about. When he’d come to pick us up, she’d given him the cold shoulder, and I had to stifle my grin at his attempts to get her to talk.
“Yes, I did,” I tell her, waving the bottle with dark grey polish in her face. Something a little rebellious. “But don’t think I haven’t noticed your determination not to talk about what’s going on with you and John. What did he do? Saturday morning you were clearly taken with the man, almost giddy, and now?” I look at her but she turns away, her teeth chewing at her lips.
“He didn’t call,” she says in a soft voice.
“He did call,” I correct her. “Did you not hear him explain he was tied up with that horrible crash on Highway 11 all weekend?” Her shoulders slump and her head drops down. “What’s really going on?” I push when she still doesn’t say anything.
“I don’t know,” she admits with a deep sigh. “I was thinking all weekend this might not be such a good idea. I mean, I just had a baby, I have a possible custody battle coming up with a man, who I couldn’t even keep around long enough to see his child born. I barely have my feet under me, and now I’m getting involved with another guy, who might not want to stick around once he gets a good taste of the mess my life is in.”
“Awww, Jordy,” I soothe her, rubbing my hand on her back. “John doesn’t look like a runner, doll. He appears to have his eyes wide open and knows exactly what he’s walking into. Besides, your life is not a mess. Look at you—you’re a wonderful mother to a beautiful little boy, you walked away from a job and the city, just so he can grow up in God’s country, surrounded by the love of family. What’s messed up about that? You’re gorgeous, you’re funny, and you’re a wonderful friend. I’m lucky to have in my life. Even if you don’t see all of that, I can guarantee you John does,” I encourage her, handing over a box of tissues so she can dry her tears.
“Damn right he does.” Neither of us had heard him come in, but John clearly heard at least the last part of our conversation. He ignores the two girls bent over our feet and moves straight to Jordy’s chair. He leans down, bracing himself on her armrests. I can’t help the smile when I turn away to give them whatever privacy I can, but I still hear his deep rumble.
“I see my attempt to slowly let you get used to me left you with enough time to get some cockamamie ideas in your head.” I almost snort out loud at the audibly offended gasp from Jordy and struggle not to have a look at her face. “It’s apparently not working,” he continues. “And just so we’re clear, you are gorgeous, you are funny, you are a great mother, and there is no way you’ll see me running from all that. I’m sticking around.” It would appear he heard enough of our conversation.
I turn just in time to watch the big man in uniform press a hard kiss to her mouth. He straightens up and walks away, only to sit down in the waiting area, grab a copy of Cosmopolitan from the table, and with jerky movements, starts flipping through. I look at Jordy, whose face looks like mine feels, eyes wide, mouth half-open. Then both of us look at the ladies at our feet to find them much in the same state.
That’s when I burst out laughing.
-
“Are you coming over?” Jordy asks, when John stops in my driveway.
She’d wanted to stop off for a few things at the grocery store, and I felt brave enough to go in to pick up a few things of my own. John insisted on coming in. We must’ve looked funny, the big cop following right behind us, but I barely noticed, because Jordy was chattering the entire time. When to start the baby on solids, what’s a good age to wean, did I have a preference for diapers. I didn’t get a chance to panic. She was firing off questions left and right. Only after we’d loaded everything in John’s SUV, and we’d climbed in, she fell quiet and turned to me with a smirk on her face. She’d known exactly what she was doing.
“Nope. I’m gonna put this stuff away, and then I’m going to do a bit of research.”
“About what?” she wants to know.
“Your brother. I don’t want to look like a moron if that asshole starts asking specific questions. I know nothing of hockey and had no idea who Jared was until Steffie told me. I just want to be prepared for tomorrow.”
“You already know everything that’s important about him,” she counters, and I smile at her as I get out of the vehicle.
“You know that, and I know that, but he doesn’t,” I clarify, leaning back in to grab my bag. “I’m anxious enough about the whole thing, it’ll help me settle down.”
“Fine, just don’t believe everything you read online.”
A couple of hours later, I remind myself of those words.
It’s almost like there are two different people, the Jared I know and the one everyone else sees. I’m actually glad that I opted not to Google him when Steffie first told me he was someone famous. It would probably have unfairly skewed my opinion of him. But now I’m glad I did, because there was enough material there for Mr. Torrence to completely blindside me if he wanted to. Not so much the hockey background, but the numerous pictures of him in the company of one or another beautiful woman. Given the spirit of his earlier article, I have no doubt Torrence would find great pleasure in trying to embarrass me again. I won’t let him.
After a quick salad for dinner, I grab a towel and head outside. I’ve missed my kayak. Griffin launches into his usual complaint of pitiful whimpers when he sees me head to the dock with my towel. For a while, when I first got him, he would jump in and swim after me, but I quickly cured him of that. I occasionally go out in the canoe so he can come, something he loves to do, but I generally prefer the kayak. It’s great exercise, and I can actually go fast enough to feel the wind in my hair. Tonight I could really use some fresh air to clear my head.
I sneak a quick glance at Jared’s place, but don’t see any movement outside, and push off quickly. It’s been harder than I though to stay away the past few days, but it’s been helpful. Whenever I’m around him, I can’t seem to think straight. It becomes difficult to identify what is what. The lines between want and need, lust and love—it all becomes blurred—and I really felt I needed the time to pick through it all in my head, without my body taking the lead.
When I paddle back and round the corner into our bay, I immediately spot Jared sitting on the edge of his dock. His feet are dangling in the water and my dog, the traitor, is sitting next to him. Both are keenly watching my approach.
I n
udge the kayak right up to his dock and Jared reaches out to grab the rope I left curled on the bow. He pulls until the kayak is parallel with the dock and I reach out to give my dog a little attention, and at the same time avoid looking at Jared.
“I miss you,” he says, his voice soft and low. My eyes come up and his hand reaches out to brush the curls out of my face.
“Me, too,” I admit.
We silently stare at each other for a moment before I take his hand and press a kiss in his palm.
“This was never about trusting you. It was about trusting myself. Believing the truth of my feelings. I needed some time without peripheral noise.”
“Did you find the answer?” he asks, and I can feel the barely suppressed tension in that question.
“I did.” I smile and shove away from the dock hard. Jared jumps to his feet and watches me drift off with his hands on his hips.
“And?” he calls after me, and I throw a glance over my shoulder.
“I’ll be there tomorrow,” is my non-answer.
“Mia...” I don’t know how he manages to make my name sound like a threat, but he does. I smile, pulling myself out of the water at my own dock, before I put him out of his misery.
“I love you.”
The words aren’t loud—I all but whisper them—but they bounce over the water until I see their impact written all over Jared’s face. Then I grab my towel and hurry inside.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Jared
I don’t like the smirk on the face of that asshole when Brian opens the door for him.
At least he’s on time, I’ll give him that. Ten o’clock, on the dot, he walks up to my door, loaded down with camera equipment and a messenger bag. Douche.
“Morning,” he says, way too cheerfully, and I force a curt nod, which is about all I can manage. His sneaky eyes scan the inside of my house and land on Jordy, who just walks into the kitchen. “Are we missing someone?”