“Do you want to meet her?”
“I do. More than anything. But I think it wouldn’t be wise. She’s already losing a mother. No need for her to lose a grandmother, as well.”
He patted the outline of the phone in the pocket of his shorts. “I have a picture.”
“I would love to see that.”
He pulled out the phone and tapped on the screen to pull up the photo he had taken of Jackie, Mason, and Cam at the beach. The three of them were squinting in the bright sunlight, sand coating their legs up to the knees, their wet hair plastered to their heads. He handed the phone to his mother, who studied it silently for a long while before speaking.
“You and Becca will have plenty of people to help you. You know that, right?” She handed his phone back.
Jack was beginning to nod agreement when the pager went off in his other pocket. He pulled it out.
“I’ve got to go, mom.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back later, okay?”
“What kind of call is it?”
“Car accident. I have to go right past it on my way to the station. Maybe it won’t be bad and I can come right back.”
But when he drove up on the scene, he saw immediately that it was bad. Very bad. The car was practically wrapped around a tree. Two police cars were parked in the middle of the road, blocking traffic. Jack would have to ask them to move one vehicle so he could get through. There was no other way to the station from here, and he needed to get his gear and get on a truck.
As he pulled closer, though, the car began to look familiar. He locked eyes with one of the police officers, who began running toward him, waving his arms. Jack realized why the car looked familiar. It was Serena’s car.
He veered his car onto the shoulder of the road and threw it into park, cut the ignition. He called the station.
“Do not let Oliver respond to this call!”
Then he dialed Matt’s number too, but it was too late. He ran full speed toward the fire engine as it pulled up, willing his legs to move faster as Oliver hopped down from the driver’s seat, his face already frozen in horror and shock.
“Ollie, no!” Jack yelled as his brother began to run toward the mangled car. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Matt launch into a sprint.
Oliver shook him off when Jack grabbed his arm. “Don’t, Ollie. The EMTs are here.” When he yanked hard on his brother’s sleeve, Oliver gave him a hard shove. Jack stumbled backward into Matt.
“Stop him, Mattie.”
They were wrestling with Oliver, who seemed to have gained superhuman strength all of a sudden. It took the arrival of their father to finally pry Oliver away from the car.
“I’m not leaving!” Oliver’s words were sharp with anguish.
“No one’s asking you to leave.” His father was calm. “I’m asking you to stay out of the EMTs’ way and let them do their job.”
Oliver struggled against his father’s hold but, even at fifty-five, Tim Wolfe was still as strong as a younger man. He turned his head to mouth at Jack and Matt, “Who’s in the car?”
Jack and Matt looked at each other, the second part of their father’s question all too clear. Who’s in the car besides Serena? Given the condition of the car, the possibilities were too awful to contemplate.
“I’ll go try to find out,” Jack said.
Two other firefighters were working on the car, painstakingly cutting away the roof. Jack gave them a wide berth. He approached the EMTs on the other side of the car. One was kneeling next to the shattered window, talking to Serena, trying to keep her conscious and calm. Jack leaned over to look inside, dreading what he might see.
Please let them not be in there. Don’t take the boys too.
The back seat was empty. The relief was short-lived, though. The voice of the EMT talking to Serena was growing increasingly urgent, trying to keep her from slipping into unconsciousness. Jack couldn’t look at her. It was hard enough when you didn’t know the victim of an accident. In California, he never had. They were always strangers. The buildings were always unfamiliar.
He stood and backed away from the scene. That wouldn’t always be the case in St. Caroline. There would be moments like the night the Trevors’ quilt shop caught fire and he recognized the empty car in the parking as Becca’s. Thank God for that damn sock monkey. It was hard enough standing outside while his brothers went in to find her. Something like this? It would take three grown men to drag him away too.
He strode back to where Matt and his father were still holding onto the eldest Wolfe son. He shook his head to let them know that Mason and Cam were not in the car. The phone in his pocket vibrated and he pulled it out. It was a text from Becca.
Charlotte has the boys. Serena asked her to babysit for a few hours.
He held the phone up so Matt could read the text. His brother nodded, then whispered to Oliver. Oliver gave no reaction, and it hit Jack. The boys weren’t in the car but Serena wasn’t entirely alone either. She was pregnant.
Chapter 29
Becca slid a mug of coffee onto the bar in front of Jack. A drunk Jack. Understandable, given the events of recent days. His mother was dying and now his sister-in-law was in a hospital in Baltimore—in a coma, the baby lost.
“We’re closing up. Drink this and I’ll drive you home.”
Jack lifted his face from where he’d been studying the lacquer on the bar for the past hour and a half. His eyelids were heavy. At least a day’s worth of stubble shadowed his jaw. Under other circumstances, it would be the sexiest sight she could imagine. But tonight, he looked like a wreck.
He looked at the mug of coffee like he’d never seen such a thing before. He wrapped his hands around it. His lips parted to speak and Becca waited for him to protest the necessity of her driving him home. Instead, he said simply, “Thanks.”
While he drank the coffee, she closed out her shift on the register and helped Mike finish cleaning up. Mike cocked his head toward Jack, who was staring into the mug like he was reading tea leaves.
“Are you going to need any help?”
“I don’t think so. I think he’s sixty percent exhausted, forty percent two sheets to the wind.” At least Jack wasn’t an obnoxious drunk. In fact, he was exactly the kind of drunk she’d expect him to be—quiet, lost in himself. Not the type to bother anyone else in the bar. Still, she felt Mike’s eyes on her as she helped Jack stumble across the parking lot to her car. She gave him a wave as she pulled away.
Jack leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.
“You asleep over there?” she asked.
“No. Haven’t slept in two days.”
“I’m sorry, Jack.”
He flicked his hand in the air. “Not your fault. My life just sucks right now.”
Did he include her and Jackie in that judgment? Probably. She drove the rest of the way without saying anything else.
The lights were all on at Matt’s cabin when she pulled into the narrow gravel driveway. She’d no sooner put the car into park when the door to the cabin burst open with so much force, she half expected it to pop off its hinges. Jack slowly unfolded his long body from her car. Matt set upon him immediately.
“Where have you been? I’ve been calling and texting you!” Matt was spitting mad.
Becca took note of Matt’s red eyes and her heart sank. Jack fumbled in his pocket and came up with his phone. He squinted at the side.
“Sorry man. Somehow the ringer got turned off.”
Becca followed Jack closely as he slowly navigated the three steps to the cabin’s narrow porch—in case he fell.
“Everyone’s been trying to find you! And nobody has the time to do that right now!” Matt stepped aside to let Jack and Becca through the door. But inside, he shoved Jack in the chest. Jack stumbled back, then caught himself and lunged at his brother. Becca grabbed at Jack’s shirt. When her hand slipped off it, Matt’s arm clipped her jaw.
“Hey asshole!” Jack went at his b
rother again. “Don’t you touch my girl!”
“Didn’t realize she was still your girl. Thought you dumped her.”
“She’s the mother of my child.”
At the word “mother,” all the fight went out of Matt and he slumped against the wall. “She’s gone, man. That’s why we’ve been trying to get in touch with you. She’s gone.” He ground the heels of his hands into his eyes. “She’s gone.”
Jack stormed out into the night, leaving Becca running after him.
“Jack!”
Even inebriated, he was faster than she was and she lost him to the dark. She walked back to the porch and sat on the edge. Behind her the cabin’s door opened and then Matt was sitting next to her.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that in there.”
She shrugged. “You guys are upset.” Jack hadn’t really “dumped” her. It hadn’t been anything so official as that. Probably because they hadn’t really been “official” to begin with. Not romance-wise, anyway. Officially friends. Officially parents of a little girl. But not lovers.
“Still.” Matt rejected her excuse for his behavior. Matt might be the bad boy of the Wolfe family, but he was still a Wolfe. His parents’ influence was strong.
“Where do you think he went?” Becca stared into the humid night, looking for some sign of movement.
“He’ll be back. He used to do this when he was a kid too. Were you guys out tonight?”
She tweaked the hem of her navy blue Skipjack’s skirt. “I was working. Jack sat at the bar all night.”
“That’s not like him.”
“No.”
She hopped off the porch. She understood why Jack ran off. He was trapped in his head. Trapped in being “Jack Wolfe.” His levelheaded nature was one of his strengths. If she were going to be honest with herself, it was that characteristic that had motivated her behavior at the graduation party. Climbing into the back seat of her car—any girl’s car, for that matter—was as un-Jack Wolfe as one could get. She had wanted to see if she could lure “good” Jack Wolfe out of his head and into trouble with her. She succeeded—and that success, that one misguided whim—had tied the two of them together forever.
But some situations couldn’t be thought through. Like losing a parent. And right now, Jack was out there in the night trying to be good and levelheaded, trying to contain a whole mess of feelings he wasn’t comfortable having anyone else see.
“I’ll go find him,” she said to Matt and walked off into the dark.
She was going to lure Jack Wolfe out of “Jack Wolfe.” And if luring didn’t work, she would drag him out kicking and screaming.
He turned out to be easy to find. He was sitting by the pond behind Matt’s house, his knees drawn up to his chin. She plopped down next to him.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” he said back.
She sat there for a minute, watching the shadowy forms of dragonflies skim over the pond’s still water. Lightning bugs blinked on and off in the trees on the other side.
“Are there snakes in this pond?” she asked.
“Yup.”
“I don’t like snakes.”
“Most people don’t. So you might want to go back inside.”
“You have EMT certification, though. If a snake bites me in the ass, you could suck out the venom, right?” From the corner of her eye, she could see him biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
“I’m sure Mattie would be happy to do that.”
“I’ll go ask.” She started to stand. Jack’s arm shot out and pulled her back down.
“Over my dead body. Or his dead body, more likely.”
“I'm sorry. About everything.”
“Yeah. Life sucks.”
“It does.”
Across the pond, the lightning bugs were slowing down, going dark.
“I should be mad at you,” he said.
“You should be. What I did was wrong.”
“But what you did was right, too. I would have been a terrible father. Well, maybe not terrible. But not very good.”
“And you’d definitely be mad at me now. Permanently mad. And she’d have that in her life, two parents who can’t stand the sight of each other.”
She listened in the dark for his breathing, but it was barely audible. Even though there were several inches of night air between them, she could sense how tightly the muscles of his body were clenched.
“I can’t believe she’s gone,” he said after awhile. “Shit. I don’t know how my phone got turned off.”
Becca stood, then sat back down again—this time, behind Jack. She stretched her legs out alongside his, wound her arms around him, and rested her cheek against his back. There were no words for moments like this. She felt that, intuitively. She couldn’t believe Angie Wolfe was gone, either. Couldn’t believe Shari Weber would be gone within the year, as well.
She felt his back push against her cheek as he took a long deep inhale. She rode the movement up and back down again, as he let the breath pour out.
“I don’t think I can do this,” he said quietly. “It hurts too much.”
She ran her palms along his bare arms, wishing she could absorb his pain into her own body. After a moment, his hands covered hers and stopped them. He threaded his fingers into her fingers as his back began to heave uncontrollably beneath her cheek. She rode that movement out too, holding him as steady as she could while he let out the whole mess of feelings no one had any words for.
Inside, the sofa bed was pulled out and made up, a thin cotton blanket folded across the foot of the mattress. Jack had no idea how long he and Becca spent outside by the pond. Could have been hours, but probably wasn’t. Either way, he felt better now. Purged. Empty. Light.
“Thanks, Mattie!” Jack called out.
“You’re welcome,” came his brother’s sleepy reply.
“Mind if my girl spends the night?”
Becca was shaking her head “no.”
“Whatever. Just don’t make too much noise.”
“You’re just jealous.”
“Yeah. A little.” A beat later, Matt’s voice came again. “Becca? Thanks.”
Becca rolled her eyes at Jack. “You’re welcome.”
“Okay. Leave me alone now.”
“You bet!” Jack couldn’t resist getting the last word in.
Becca swatted his arm. “Stop,” she whispered.
“What? It’s my God-given right to harass my brother.”
“Not when he’s being nice to you.”
“Yeah, even then.” Jack toed off his running shoes and let himself fall back onto the pullout bed. Becca looked down at him, her features soft with exasperation and … something else he still wasn’t ready to put a name to.
Alright! Affection! She feels some affection toward me.
LOL.
Jack frowned. Did you just LOL me? You finally answer me and that’s what you say? LOL?
“Jack, are you okay?” Becca sat warily on the edge of the mattress.
“Please tell me I wasn’t speaking out loud.”
“Yeah … you kinda’ were.”
He closed his eyes. “Sorry. How much did I say?”
“Something about affection and LOL.”
He groaned. “I’m hearing voices and … talking to myself.”
“I think you’re still a little drunk. And way beyond the point of exhaustion.”
He opened his eyes and looked at her … looking at him.
That’s more than affection on her face, son.
Jack bit down on his tongue to keep himself from answering.
“Do you need anything before I go?” she asked.
He rolled onto his side and grabbed her arm, pulled her onto the bed with him. “You. I need you.”
They were face to face now, and it occurred to Jack that he was not a pretty sight at the moment. His eyes were surely bloodshot, his nose red. He didn’t even want to think about the state of his hair. And
yet, there was still that look on her face.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re insane?” he said.
Her expression softened even further. “No, but I’m sure plenty of people have thought it. They’re just too polite to say it out loud.” She grinned at him.
“Did you just bust my chops?”
“Your brother’s wearing off on me.”
“They’re working on a cure for that.”
“You need to get some rest.”
He scooted over and wrapped his arms around her. Immediately, a soothing peacefulness flooded his veins. Yes, his life sucked right now. But when she held him out by the pond, he was in a place where it didn’t suck. A place that might be waiting for him when he got back from the hell he was in.
“I’ll rest better if you’re here with me.” When he loosened his arms, her amusement of a moment ago turned to hesitation. “We won’t wake up Mattie, I promise.”
She held up her little finger. “Pinky swear.”
He hooked his finger in hers, gave a little squeeze, and lowered their hands to the narrow sliver of mattress between them. She fell asleep first, clearly exhausted by his histrionics. He listened to the soft hush of her breath in and out. He gently unhooked their little fingers and curled his entire hand around hers. He was bone tired. And yet, his body was stirring. He was turned on, hard as a rock, even though the rest of him felt like a giant blob of mush.
How many nights had he lain in this very bed, thinking about having her next to him? Pretty much every night—even after everything that had come to light. The fact that she had been pregnant with his child, given birth to his child … why did that make her even more attractive to him? His brain was too damn tired to ponder that again tonight.
For tonight, he was content to just lie there next to her and enjoy the way her presence made his body feel, to allow himself to float along on a pleasant—but intense—current of arousal without the need to do anything about it. The bottom had just dropped out of his life, but he felt safe right here, with her. It’s called love, son. He ignored that, closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
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