Under The Covers

by Crystal Jordan, Lorie O'Clare

  Dragging her thoughts back to the present, she forced herself to focus on the man before her. She was going to have to deal with him on her own. “Wh—what are you doing here, Nathan?”

  He clasped his hands loosely between his thighs, elbows braced on his knees. “I’ve been thinking about some of the things you said before I left, and I think we should calmly discuss it, now that our tempers have cooled. I think we behaved rashly. I don’t want to throw away a long-term relationship over one visit with your family.”

  Her stomach twisted into knots so tight she wasn’t sure how she kept her lunch down. “My family will always be my family, Nathan. If you can’t get along with them—”

  “I can. I can make an effort when we’re here. Our life is in Los Angeles, but I know I can keep the peace whenever we come visit them.” What she wouldn’t have given for him to have said those words a week ago, for him to have shown even an ounce of understanding and compassion—traits that came so naturally to Jake, but not to Nathan…and not to Dayna either.

  Should she tell him about Jake? No. No, that wouldn’t be fair. Telling him would only hurt him, and it would be a selfish way to unburden herself of guilt. The problem was, she felt guilty for…not feeling guilty. She couldn’t bring herself to regret her time with Jake. It had been wonderful.

  And yet—and yet looking at Nathan, she remembered why she’d thought he was so perfect for her. She knew what he was thinking, what he was feeling, how he would react because he thought and acted much the same way she did. Not Jake though—as much as she knew about him, he would always be predictably unpredictable. She liked that about Jake. She also liked that she could read Nathan like the back of her hand. It was comforting.

  But…did she want to be comfortable for the rest of her life? Jake challenged her, made her think, made her grow. Nathan never would. He would always want her to be exactly who and what she was now. Did that mean he accepted her or that he stifled her?

  She didn’t know.

  A bitter little smile twisted her lips. She’d lost count of the number of times in the past week she’d thought, I don’t know. Well, if she didn’t know what she wanted—who she wanted—she’d better not throw away what she might want later.

  She pulled in a deep breath. “Nathan, I’m willing to think about giving us a second chance, but I can’t say yes right now. I need some time to think.”

  Nodding slowly, he pushed himself to his feet. Curling his hands over her shoulders, he kept his dark gaze level with hers. “Take all the time you need. I want us to be together, I want to marry you, and I can learn to bend when it comes to your family. I’ll do what it takes to keep you.”

  But could he keep her happy? Could he make her laugh at private jokes and scream in pleasure at night? She wanted him to be able to, wanted him to give her everything Jake did and more. She’d always thought Nathan was the one for her, and if he could match her physically, maybe they’d have a better shot. She’d learned enough about herself lately to know that shoving aside her body’s needs didn’t make them go away. And when they demanded satisfaction, there was little she could do to quell them. She didn’t even want to. She wanted to embrace that part of herself. Could she do that with Nathan?

  “I’m staying at the inn on Third Avenue.” A thin smile curved his lips. “They had a cancellation.”

  She snorted a soft laugh. “Figures.”

  He bent forward to kiss her, and her first instinct was to turn her head and let him kiss her cheek. Instead she threw herself into the kiss, wrapped her arms around his neck, and plunged her tongue into his mouth to encourage him to respond. She needed to know if he could bend for her in this area as well. She could feel his surprise, and his fingertips came up to rest on her back. He tilted his head to deepen their contact, and his erection pressed thick and hard to her lower belly. She willed herself to feel something. Anything.

  She didn’t.

  No, actually, she felt nauseous. She dropped her arms, grabbed his wrists to pull them away, and tried not to heave as her body rebelled against what she was forcing it to do.

  Then the front door swung open. She jerked back from Nathan, turning to see Rainbow holding Toby. And Jake. She opened her mouth to…what? Explain? Justify herself? Apologize?

  It didn’t matter what she might have said—the look of stunned, agonized betrayal on Jake’s face made the words tangle in her throat. Then his face went blank, his eyes hollow. He took a step back, two, and then turned and walked away.

  Shock rolled through Dayna in icy waves, and her body began to shake. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring the image of him climbing into his truck and calmly pulling away from the house.

  He never looked back.

  And then she knew. She finally knew. Rainbow was right. She was in love with Jake, and she’d ruined everything. The look on his face would be burned into her memory forever. In all the years she’d known him, all the pain and loss and wild insanity she knew he’d been through, she’d never once seen him wear an expression like that before. It made her believe that Rainbow was right about that, too. Jake was in love with her.

  Jake, who didn’t do forever but didn’t believe in infidelity, who’d seen Dayna kissing another man while in the middle of a love affair with him.

  Oh, God.

  The world closed in around her as realization of how badly she’d mangled things flooded her mouth with a bitter taste.

  Fifteen minutes. Things had gone from bright and beautiful to an unspeakable disaster in fifteen short minutes. She managed to haul herself up to her room to lick her wounds and try to do what she did best. Make a plan. Figure things out.

  Dayna’s knees gave out from under her, and she collapsed on the bed. She couldn’t make her mind focus. It gibbered uselessly from one panicked thought to the next.

  What was she going to do now? What did she really want, and how was she going to get it? Would Jake ever forgive her? What would she do if he didn’t?

  She didn’t know. She just didn’t know anything anymore.

  Hours later, Dayna still had tears streaking down her face, curled up on her mattress and sobbing as if the world had ended. Not even Rainbow could lend any comfort, no matter what her visions said.

  Something precious had died, and Dayna had lost it before she knew she had it. God help her. She’d been happier in the last few days than she’d been…ever. And it was because of Jake. He made her smile, made her laugh, made her relax and not analyze everything to death or worry so much about what other people thought of her. She hadn’t even felt the need to write more than a couple of lists in the last week. It was unnerving. It was wonderful.

  It was over.

  7

  Jake didn’t sleep. He didn’t eat. He just sat in his house, staring out the huge window in his living room overlooking the snow-frosted lake. He’d always loved this view. It was why he’d bought the place. His eyes burned with exhaustion when he forced himself to his feet the next afternoon. Time for work. He had to work. That was all he had left.

  It had been almost twenty-four hours since he’d seen the worst nightmare of any man in love.

  The woman he loved kissing another man.

  Dayna. Nathan.

  Even now, the memory had enough power to make Jake’s stomach heave. It was just like with his parents. His father loved, his mother left. Another man.

  But Jake wasn’t his father. And he’d done the one thing his father had never done. The one thing Jake always did.

  He’d walked away.

  Nothing had ever made Jake feel so empty. He should have been jealous, should have punched Nathan for touching her, but he didn’t. He couldn’t even wrap his mind around anything else but pure, blinding agony. His body had gone numb, but his heart felt as if it had been ripped, beating, from his chest.

  The pain just wouldn’t quit. From the moment he’d left Dayna, it had eaten him up inside. He suddenly had a hell of a lot more sympathy for his father than he’d ever had before.
Sympathy he’d never wanted. He closed his eyes, swallowing.

  The only thing keeping him upright was the knowledge that he’d done the right thing for both Dayna and himself by walking away. It didn’t matter that it felt like shit; it was the right thing to do.

  Walking into the bathroom, he took a quick shower. He didn’t let himself look at the bed when he passed it, didn’t let himself think about the times he’d made love to Dayna in his room, in his shower. It wouldn’t happen again. She’d gone back to Nathan. He shut down that line of thought, hustling to get ready. To get away from his own house.

  When he stepped out of the bedroom, his best friend’s fist connected with his gut, and he was on his knees before he knew what was coming. His breath rasped in his throat as he fought for breath. Pain echoed through his entire body, but after the night he’d had, it didn’t even faze him.

  “You know, I’m starting to think giving you a key to my house was a bad idea,” Jake wheezed out when he could breathe again. He glanced up, met Sam’s furious hazel gaze, and decided to stay right where he was on the floor. “I was trying to do the right thing, man.”

  Sam’s knuckles whitened, and he clenched his fists tighter. His jaw worked for a moment before he spat, “How? By fucking with her life and her mind and then dropping her like she’s some skank you picked up in my bar?”

  “It’s not like that.” Jake pulled up his knees, propping an arm across them. His other hand rubbed over his aching abs. Shit, Sam packed a hell of a punch. Years of bouncing drunks out of a bar had improved his aim, too. He’d never been that good in a fight.

  “Right, it’s not like that.” Sam snorted. “It’s not as if I didn’t know you were sleeping with her, but I thought you would keep her away from that dumbass she was engaged to. But you used her for a little while the way you have every other woman since the day we both started dating and then ditched her when it got too heavy for you. I know how you operate, so, tell me, how else could it possibly be, Jake?”

  Letting his head fall back against the doorjamb, Jake closed his eyes. “She deserves everything she wants, Sam. She wants a straight-laced, suit-wearing guy. She should have it.” He swallowed, pressing his fingers against his eyelids. God, it hurt so damn bad. Like a thousand pounds of lead weight was sitting on his chest, crushing the breath out of him. “I was so sure I knew what was best for her, what she really needed. I was a stupid, selfish son of a bitch.”

  He opened his eyes to see a look of mingled surprise, disgust, and pity on the other man’s face. “Ah, hell. You’re in love with her.”

  A rusty laugh wrenched out of Jake. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  Sam’s dark eyebrows drew together in a deep frown. “Then why are you pushing her back to him?”

  “I’m doing what my dad couldn’t do.” Tears stung his eyes, and he turned his head, coughing. “I’m letting her go and hoping she gets exactly what she wants. Because I love her.”

  “Damn.” Concern edged Sam’s voice. Yeah, the man knew everything about Jake—even more that the rest of the Sharps. How he’d grown up, his experiences since, his fears. All of it. “Jake—”

  Jake shook his head, sighed, and met the hazel gaze that he associated as much with Dayna as he did with Sam. He lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not going to bury myself in a bottle. I’ll get over it eventually, and I’ll move on. If I’m not what she wants—what she needs—then it’s best she go now, you know?”

  “Yeah.” Something flashed in Sam’s eyes, some bit of painful wisdom, but it came and went in an instant. “Yeah, I know.”

  Jake squinted up at him, knowing Sam well enough to realize he shouldn’t ask how he understood what Jake was going through with Dayna. “You gonna hit me again if I get up?”

  Sam chuckled, holding out his hand. Jake grabbed it and let himself be hauled to his feet. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out, brother.”

  “Me, too.” Jake took a breath and realized he had done the right thing. He wasn’t just saying it over and over, he really meant it. That was the real difference between him and his old man. The woman his father had loved hadn’t loved him back, had wanted someone else, and his dad hadn’t been able to accept it, to heal, to get on with his life. Jake would.

  He knew it was going to hurt like hell for a long, long time, but he also knew it was best. If she didn’t want him now, they’d be setting themselves up for a whole lot more pain down the road. And the thought of her getting hurt because of him…He couldn’t handle that. That would kill him. A shaky breath slid out. Yeah, he’d done the right thing, and eventually he and Dayna would both be okay, a little wiser, knowing themselves a little better, but…okay.

  He could live with that.

  Dayna walked into Jake’s shop an hour before closing. The low buzz of a tattoo gun filled the air. A gray-haired woman lay on her side on a black table facing the far wall. She had her sweatshirt pulled up to reveal her ribs, which was what Jake bent over with a look of concentration. He didn’t so much as glance toward the door when a chime sounded to announce her entrance. “Be with you in a bit.”

  Just seeing him settled something deep inside her. Yes. This was what she really wanted. She’d already made her choice and sent Nathan back to LA. He might want to debate with her about it in his very lawyerly way, and he might not understand that they’d never be good for each other, but she hoped he would understand someday. Now she just had to convince Jake they could work things out between them. If he was even willing to listen. She knew how he felt about any kind of unfaithfulness, and anxiety twisted inside her. Would he be less forgiving of a woman he was in love with? Would he be able to understand how scared she’d been, how torn and confused?

  Her heart thumped hard in her chest, and she spun to face the wall. She pulled in a slow breath and forced herself to focus on something else. Panicking wouldn’t help. A funky-looking Christmas tree made out of sheet metal stood against the wall, and behind it the wall was decorated with sample tattoos—more were available in photo albums sitting on a table. She let her gaze move over the wall, knowing most of the artwork was Jake’s. It was beautiful. The colors and lines and attention to detail made a statement all its own about how talented he was. She’d seen some of his work over the years, his sketches and his tattoos, but this showed her so clearly how huge a part of his life it was. Just like her writing. The pieces fell into place so easily, so neatly. No matter how it appeared on the surface, the two of them fit.

  Dayna cast a quick glance at him over her shoulder, and her heart squeezed. He was such a gorgeous man—wicked and kind in equal measures. Just what she wanted forever. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. It might have taken her far too long to figure it out, but now that she had, she wasn’t letting him walk away again. Ever.

  His deep rumble of a voice soothed the woman he was working on when she flinched away from him a bit. “Almost done. Hang in there for another few minutes while I finish the shading.”

  She snorted. “I gave birth to five boys, Jacob. You want to talk about pain, I’ll tell you about pain.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He chuckled, never pausing in the sure movements of his hands. “You’re gonna have to show this off to your students.”

  Dayna’s mouth dropped open when she realized Jake was tattooing her eighth-grade math teacher, Mrs. Simpson. Then she grinned. Figures he would be able to corrupt her, too. Way to go, Jake. She took off her coat, set it on a chair, slid her hands in her pockets, and waited.

  Jake sat back and set down his gun, grinning at Mrs. Simpson. “All right, that should do it.” He reached behind him and grabbed a small hand mirror. “Take a look.”

  Rolling so she could sit up, Mrs. Simpson twisted to see the tattoo. Her eyes widened, and she touched the mirror and what it reflected reverently. “Oh, I love it.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.” He bandaged the area and ran through aftercare procedures as he helped her to her f
eet.

  She righted her clothing, a smile wreathing her wrinkled features. “I’ve always wanted to get one of these, but my husband wouldn’t have liked it. Now that he’s gone…well, it doesn’t really matter what anyone but me thinks, does it?”

  “Not a bit.” He smiled back, cupping her elbow to steady her on her feet. “I’m glad you like it. You call me or come back in if you run into any problems or have any questions.”

  “I will.” She tucked a wad of cash into his hand, kissed his cheek, and picked up her purse, still wearing that wide, delighted grin.

  “Thank you, ma’am.” His big body froze when he finally glanced up at Dayna. Some emotion flashed in his eyes, but he masked it. Walking to the door, he held it open for Mrs. Simpson. “Good night.”

  He shut the door and locked it, flipping off the light to the neon sign that said OPEN. Then he moved to his table, wiped it down with disinfectant, started cleaning up the tattooing equipment, and stripped off the rubber gloves he wore. His voice was flat and emotionless. “What can I do for you, Dayna? I figured you’d be hanging out with your family…and your fiancé.”

  “Well, you were wrong.” She pulled her hands out of her pockets and crossed her arms protectively in front of her.

  He shot her an icy glance. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “I came to get a tattoo.” Swallowing, she tried to smile as she met his green gaze. She’d deliberately picked his shop to have this conversation because she knew he might try to shut her out. So she’d come here for business, and he’d have to listen while he worked. She’d prove on as many levels as she could that she wanted him and he wanted her. Once he’d walked away from a woman, she’d never known him to take one back. She had planned for that, she was prepared, but if there was one thing she’d learned this week it was that the heart didn’t follow the guidelines of any plan.