She’s quiet as she stares at the little pond full of murky water. “I don’t pay much for rent, but it would be nice to have some help with utilities, because I’d like to save up enough to continue making improvements to the house. It’ll be mine one day, so I’d like it to be in top shape.”
“I could lend a hand.” I think she’s pretty sold on the idea, but I need to keep giving her reassurances that it’s a good plan.
“Okay. We’ll try it out. You can take the room at the far end of the hall from my room. It’s the one with the adjoining bathroom.”
“I was hoping to share a room with you,” I tease. Waiting until she give me a reprimanding look, I continue. “Kidding. Just messing with you.”
“I’ve decided to be a lesbian, anyway, so don’t get any ideas of sneaking in my room and taking my breath away. I’m not interested.”
“That’s a shame, because from what I can remember, I’m pretty good at taking your breath away.”
Jamie shakes her head. “This is a terrible idea.”
“If it doesn’t work out I’ll leave.”
“When are you moving in?” She asks.
“Well, most of my stuff is in the truck.”
Her body swings in my direction. “What? You brought your stuff?”
“It’s been in my truck since I left. No furniture, just random crap I’ve accumulated.”
She stands and crosses her arms over her chest. I feel like she does it when she’s uncomfortable. “I’m going to regret this, but come on. I’ll help you carry stuff in. It’s not like I have anything else to do.”
I start to put my arm around her and remember I’m not allowed to do that. This isn’t a relationship. Jamie doesn’t want me like that. I know it’s been years, but it feels so damn natural I don’t know how I’m going to keep from messing up. Being in the same room with Jamie for five minutes makes me think of what we used to have, that burning fire that ignited each time we touched. Now that I’ve walked away from my engagement the fidelity blinders have lifted. My conscience isn’t fighting my dick to stay faithful. Now all I see is Jamie, and it’s overwhelming.
Chapter 13
Jamie
He’s been in the house for thirteen days and I’ve barely seen him. If I didn’t know any better I’d say he was avoiding me on purpose so I don’t feel like he’s overstepping. When I do see him he’s short and focused on some random task, like fixing a leaky toilet, or putting more shelves in the hallway linen closet. He’s even repaired some cracks in the ceiling. I don’t want him thinking he has to go overboard just to stay. Even though we aren’t spending direct time together, I sleep better at night knowing I’m not alone in the big house.
On this particular night I’ve made a nice dinner, which happens to be something I never do. I remember fried chicken being one of his favorites, so I’ve gone all out, looking online for batter recipes and how to slice potatoes so they cook like chips. I’m not a cook. Generally speaking, I buy the meals that are already cooked or come in a bag with all the ingredients already mixed together. I also love take-out, it just doesn’t love me back.
I heat the oil and begin the process of soaking the chicken in the batter I’ve concocted. Then I move on to the potatoes, using this gadget I got for a wedding present but never used. I’m stressing out, because being across the table from Brant feels like a date.
Is it though? Is it what I want?
No.
What I want is to have a friend I can count on.
He’s good to me, and that’s what’s important.
I won’t ruin it because there’s an empty spot in my bed.
Sure, Brant Wallace is someone I could easily fall back in love with. He’s my past. At one point I thought he’d be my future. Now there’s a hole in my heart from another failed attempt at love. What makes matters worse is knowing he’s just gotten out of a very serious relationship. How can I be sure they won’t reconcile. Brant obviously loved her.
All feelings aside, I need this friendship to work, because ever since blaming Avery she and I haven’t been the same. It makes me sad, like maybe I’m not a good enough friend in the first place.
When I have the potatoes ready I rinse them off and drop my first batch in the hot oil. Then all hell breaks loose. The boiling liquid starts bubbling and popping, finally spilling over the pot onto the flame. I’m freaking out, beating the small fire with a pot holder while trying to figure out if it’s water or flour I need to avoid.
I’m screaming, searching for the fire extinguisher that may or may not exist, when Brant comes into the room. First he turns off the stove, then reaches in the cabinet for the flour, pouring it all over the disastrous meal I was trying so hard to make for him.
With a room full of smoke, he looks me over. “You okay? Did you burn yourself?”
I’m shaking my head but words won’t come out.
He pulls me into a hug. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”
“I’m fine,” I manage as I pull away. “I ruined dinner though.”
He claps his hands together. “Nah. It’s not ruined. We can fix this.” He starts gathering rags. “First we’ll clean the mess, and then I’ll show you how my mom made her famous battered chicken.”
“That’s what I was going for,” I pathetically admit.
“Yeah, I figured.” He’s laughing at me, which in turn causes me to laugh at myself.
“I never really learned how to cook.”
“Good thing for you I had to fend for my siblings. You learn fast when you’re hungry and your dad is drunk.”
I start gathering spilled oil with a rag so we’re able to clean the stove. It’s a hot mess, literally. “Was it that bad? It’s the part of Brant’s life I wasn’t around for. I often thought about his family and how they were making out without his mother around to care for them.
Brant puts the towel down and sits in one of the kitchen chairs. “Yeah, for a while. I mean, he tried. He’d work extra, and try to provide for us, but he couldn’t be two people at once. I was the oldest, so it was my job to take the slack.”
“Brant, I’m sorry.”
“It’s part of the reason I knew sending you away was the right choice, even if it’s not what I wanted.”
“I would have helped.”
“Exactly,” his voice is so serious. I sit down next to him and wait for him to explain. “You would have sacrificed your own life to help me with mine. I would have held you back. You were too important to me.”
I have no idea what to say. It brings back memories I wanted buried, but hearing his struggle and learning how difficult this was for all of his family makes me feel awful. I don’t want to pity this man who broke my heart, but that’s exactly what’s happening. My eyes begin to swim in warm tears, while my emotions wreak havoc on my mind. “I should have checked on you.”
“This isn’t your fault, Jamie. It wasn’t then and it isn’t now. Things are good again. We all made it through.”
“Yeah, but it was hard. While I was at a fancy college you were playing dad.”
“You were where you needed to be.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “Meeting my asshole ex-husband.”
We both start cracking up. It’s so awful it’s funny. When the room settles and all is quiet again I’m left looking at this handsome man I used to love with everything in me. I’d be lying if I said something wasn’t still there for me. A part of me will always love him, and maybe that’s what scares me.
“This is weird, right?”
“Really weird,” I agree.
Brant stands and gets back to the disaster. He cleans the remainder of mess, and begins getting ingredients out of cabinets, mixing them in a bowl. He pulls out some milk and eggs and mixes them separately in their own bowl. Then he turns and motions with his head. “Get over here.”
I do as he says. “Okay. Show me how it’s done.”
He dips the chicken several times back and forth in both bowls, before st
icking them in a new pot of oil. Unlike my mishap, his chicken floats to the top and begins to fry the way it’s supposed to. He starts on another breast strip, dipping it and then bringing it up to touch the tip of my nose with the floury mixture. He’s laughing as he sticks it into the pot.
I back away and start wiping it off, watching as he keeps working on the meal. Leaning with my back against the cabinets, I watch and learn. “I take it you help out at the restaurant.”
“Sometimes.” I’m in awe when he takes a knife and slices the potatoes perfectly. “I like food, so I learned how to make it right.”
While the food sizzles and cooks, he turns his attention to me. “What was your life like before you met the douche?”
I shrug. “Good I guess. I hung out with friends, worked hard on my studies, volunteered at local animal shelters.”
“Wow. That’s awesome.”
“I guess.”
“No,” he corrects. “It’s what I would have wanted for you. It’s how I pictured you living your life. I guess in a lot of ways it helped me deal with losing you.”
“Brant, we were kids. Who knows if we could have had something long distance.”
“We could have, but you deserved more than I could give you. You still do.”
This makes me feel like he’s putting me on some kind of pedestal. “Don’t say that. I would have been happy, because all I wanted was to be with you.”
And there it is. I’ve gone and said something I can’t take back, and as I watch his eyes fill with hope I know exactly what’s coming. He steps in front of me, taking both of my hands in his. We’re face to face, and although we’ve embraced before, this seems somehow different. It’s old and new at the same time. It’s the past and present clashing together. “Don’t you dare kiss me,” I tell him.
“Oh, I’m totally going to.”
“I don’t want things to change.”
“Then close your eyes and pretend it’s not happening, because if I don’t do this right now I might combust. I’ve waited almost ten years to feel those lips again. Please don’t ask me to stop.”
I lick my lips, nervously trying to prepare for what’s about to take place. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want this. Every female wishes she was able to go back and relive her youth, but it’s more than that.
He’s slow, so slow I open my eyes to see if he’s still going to do it. His warm lips brush over mine once and pull back. I feel him gripping my hands while our eyes are locked. “Is this okay?” He asks.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He lets go of my hands, but instead of moving away like I assume he will, he brings them up and cups my face, pulling me into a much deeper kiss. Things go from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds. I’m gripping onto the hem of his shirt, shoving it up his rock hard chest. He helps alleviate my struggle by pulling it over his head so we’re able to kiss again. Then I’m working on the button to his jeans, finally unzipping them so I can shove them off his feet. He easily lifts my shirt off and pushes me back against the counter, stopping abruptly to take the food out of the frying pot.
While I stand there shirtless, I watch him intently, focusing on the shape of his body and those large hands I remember touching every part of my body. I wonder if it will feel the same as it did when we were teenagers, or if it will be a whole new experience. After pulling a piece of chicken apart, he blows on it before offering me a bite. I take it in between my teeth and savor the delicious flavor I suddenly recall from his mother’s kitchen. “That’s fantastic.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Wow. You totally showed me up.”
“You know what’s better than chicken and chips?”
“What?” I ask with my mouth still full.
“Naked chicken and chips.”
I smile, traipse over to the refrigerator and grab the honey mustard. Then I hold it in the air. “Which room? Yours or mine?”
I’m done waiting for things to get better in my life. It’s time to give in. I want Brant. I’ve wanted him since I first laid eyes on him and it’s never going to change for me. Still unsure of where this will lead, I decide to go for it. I want to be spontaneous, because I deserve to be.
Chapter 14
Brant
It feels like we’re kids again, except her body is nothing like it was back then. Jamie has filled out in all the right places. We make it into the living room before we become engulfed in another earth shattering embrace. It’s like ten years of pent up regret is being washed away. I can’t stop myself. I need this woman, every single beautiful inch she’s willing to give me.
I manage to get her yoga pants halfway down when the doorbell rings. We both stop mid kiss and look toward the front door. “Should I get it?” Jamie asks.
“Do you want to?”
“It could be a pet emergency.”
She’s right. I can’t keep her from doing her job. She’d never forgive me. “Okay. I’ll go back in the kitchen and find my jeans.” I grab her hand before she can get away, kissing her one more time. “Unless you want to take a peek and make sure it’s a pet emergency first. I mean, why waste a bottle of good honey mustard if we don’t have to?”
She flashes an ornery look and goes to see who could be interrupting. Quickly, I spot her dressing, situating her clothing so she looks professional, or the best that yoga pants allow.
As I watch her I have to smile. I can’t remember the last time I felt like this; excited and carefree. When I asked to rent a room it wasn’t to see if we could rekindle a long lost love. I just wanted to be her friend. Now I know it’s not possible. Something is still there, or maybe it’s new. I can’t tell the difference, and honestly it doesn’t matter. I want Jamie. I want to know everything about her. I want to start where we left off and see where it goes.
I hear Jamie talking as I pull my jeans back on in the kitchen. I’m walking into the living room while tugging my t-shirt over my head. When my eyes open I’m staring at someone I never expected to come looking for me, and I already know whatever was going to happen with Jamie is over. I’m going to have to step out to deal with this situation first, and I’ve got a feeling when I return she’ll have changed her mind.
I escort Leigh out on the covered porch. My grip is firm, because I’m pretty pissed she interrupted a pivotal moment. I sit her down in an old wicker chair that was probably on this same porch back when I dated Jamie the first time. I stand above her, crossing my arms and waiting for some ridiculous reason she’s here at this very moment. Her tears seem real. I don’t doubt she’s hurting. We’ve spent a long time building a life together, a future we both wanted only to have it stripped away by lies and deceit. She’s tortured by bad decisions. Having done this, she’s responsible for everything that has happened thus far. “I’m listening.”
She’s obviously uncomfortable, her hands shaking while she looks to the floor instead of me as she speaks. “I can’t believe you’re already living together.”
“What?” I shake my head and almost laugh at her assumption, up until I recall the last fifteen minutes with Jamie and what it means for the future. “I’m renting a room from Jamie. That’s it. We are friends.”
“Your shirt’s on inside out, Brant.”
I peer down and notice the mistake. “I put it on that way.”
“Yeah, says the anal man who likes to organize fabric colors. I’m sure it was an accident.”
“Why are you here, Leigh? I asked for time.”
She sniffles. “Time to hook up with your old girlfriend?”
“If you came here to get on me about what I do with my free time then you can turn around and go home. You did this to us. I won’t let you drag Jamie into this. She’s done nothing wrong.”
“Of course. She’s just the first love you’ve never gotten over.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Ever since you learned she was back you’ve acted differently. You might not see it but I do, even when you try t
o hide it, you’ve made it obvious, overcompensating with the littlest of things.”
I shoo her away. “You need to go. You’re out of your mind. Jamie is a friend. She’s in the middle of a divorce. I rent a room. We barely see each other.”
I know Leigh doesn’t believe me, not that I give a shit.
She’s quiet, her sobs apparent until she finally gets the courage to continue. “You’re right. I didn’t come to talk about Jamie. I need to know if you still love me.”
“Love you? Leigh, you tore my heart apart. How can I love someone I don’t trust?”
She shrugs. “I get it, but you don’t know the whole story.”
I sigh heavily. “Please stop wasting my time and spit it out.”
“I had an abortion a long time ago, right when you and I first started dating. I found out I was pregnant the day after our very first date.”
I’m relieved the child wasn’t mine. Getting rid of two children I helped conceive makes it worse. Now she’s only responsible for one. It’s still not enough to forgive her. “Go on.” I’m being insensitive, although I can’t exactly comfort someone I’m still furious with. I draw the line at pitying her.
“I knew my ex wouldn’t want a child. He already had a new girlfriend, and to be honest we were terrible together. I didn’t know it until I met you. The moment we began dating nothing else mattered to me. I knew you were the one for me.”
“I appreciate you saying that. I’ve tried to be good to you, Leigh. I’ve done my best to make you happy.”
“You have,” she assures me. “That’s why when it came to finding out I was pregnant again I freaked out. I knew you want to start a family, but my heart and head just wasn’t in it. I have school. I’m too young, Brant. You have no idea how hard it’s been for me, knowing this and keeping it from you. So many times I wanted to put my arms around you and tell you we’d make it work.”
“We could have. We would have managed together.”
She shakes her head. “I know. I knew you’d say that. That’s why when it came to having the procedure done I backed out.”
Half Shelled Heart (Oyster Cove, #2) Page 9