Jenna squeezes my hand; as usual, she gets it, taking the whiskey from Mike and drinking it for me.
“You can taste it on me later.” She whispers so only I can hear. Is it home time yet?
Jenna falls asleep in the truck on the way home, and stays asleep while I turn off the engine, climb out of my side and make it round to hers. I lean over to unbuckle her seatbelt and know I'm going to have a sleepless night when my arm brushes her chest, knocking the strap off her shoulder and exposing her breast. I manage to lift the dress back into place without waking her, and slide one arm round her back, the other under her legs and lift her out of the car. She stirs and grabs the lapel of my jacket.
"I don't mind walking." She murmurs sleepily.
"I've got you." I promise.
I carry her straight up the stairs and into the bedroom and lay her on the side of the bed I like to call 'hers'. It's the side she slept on both of the times she's stayed, and the side I sleep on the night after. I turn on the lamp and notice she's awake, looking at me longingly. God, I love her.
"You okay?" I ask, sitting next to her.
"Tonight was perfect."
I nod. It was. The food was good, Mike's always cool to be around, his wife isn't as crazy as I thought, and the kids stayed asleep. But it was perfect because it was the first time it felt like we were a couple. We weren't sneaking around, and it didn't matter if we were affectionate in front of people because, as far as they know, we're engaged. It was exactly what it would be like if we were together.
"It was," I agree, and slip the shoes off her feet.
I take one foot in my hand and massage it. Jenna sighs appreciatively and flexes her toes. I massage each toe in turn before turning to her other foot and then massaging her ankles. She's quiet, breathing deeply, little whimpers coming from her parted lips. If it wasn't for those sounds and the goose bumps on her skin as I knead my way up her legs, I'd think she was asleep. My hands reach the bottom of her dress and I slide it up her body; she sits up so I can take it off and lies back down on the bed, her hair fanning out on the pillow. I lean down and press my lips to her stomach, taking my time with every part of her body. Jenna leans up and unbuttons my shirt, sliding it off my shoulders with my jacket; I undo the cufflinks and put everything on the floor with Jenna's dress. My shoes and trousers are next and then I settle in between her legs, close enough to feel her heat, but far away enough to look down into her eyes.
We're silent, our eyes saying things words never could.
"Red?" She asks, hooking the waistband of my boxers in her thumbs and tugging them down just enough, "Make love to me."
I reach between us and slide my hand into those little shorts that are so sexy on a body like Jen's.
"No." She says, sitting up to kiss my chest, "I need you inside me."
I nod, and rip the underwear; I can't let go of her long enough to get them down her legs. I brace myself with my hands either side of her head and she wraps her legs around my waist.
"You do it." I say, using one hand to stroke myself along her entrance.
I put my hand back to the pillow when she glides her hand along my chest and nudges me into her. There's no sweet sting of pain, no stretching to accommodate; she's relaxed and wet and I slide straight through her arousal. For the first time since we've been sleeping together, I haven't had to almost force her body to accept me. Jenna catches her breath as I fill her, and wraps her arms around my waist, holding me tight to her.
We make love and it's quiet, tender and loving, and when we climax together, she cries and holds me close until we fall asleep.
Chapter 26
Jenna
“I thought you’d left again.” Deacon groans walking into the kitchen in the morning, “What time do you get up?”
He’s gloriously naked from the waist up, his golden mop of hair a tangled mess and he rubs his eyes on the way to the fancy coffee machine in the corner that I gave up trying to work out when I woke up.
“I think I get it from my mum. She’s always up before me.”
The coffee machine whirs to life with a simple flip of a switch and Deacon turns around to look at me. I feel stupid for crying last night, it’s just not normal; but it was the first time I completely gave myself to him and I think I fell in love with him all over again. I know what I’m going to do; I think I was always going to do it. It’s why I let myself become the girl who cheats. But I think if there is any truth in soul mates and people being destined to be together, Deac and I will make it. He has his women and I have my soon-to-be-ex fiancé, but none of that matters when we’re together. It’s never been so easy to block the rest of the world out, not even when I’m baking.
“Why didn’t you leave?” He asks, folding his arms across his chest.
“I’m not leaving anymore. I wanted to be here when you woke up.”
It’s the truth. I woke up about five am and laid wide awake next to him, watching him sleep, listening to the sound of his breathing and imagined a life where I wake up like this every morning, have his coffee waiting when he wakes up and spending every moment we’re together making him realise he’s always been the man for me, and I’m sorry for everything we’ve been through the last month and a half.
“I’m glad you did.” Deac sits next to me at the kitchen table with his coffee and kisses me on the cheek.
“But I have to go. I’m calling in every favour I have to get the baking done for tomorrow.”
“That’s why your dad suggested boy’s night then.” He laughs. I didn’t know they were having a boy’s night.
“He’ll probably get lonely without Mum there, we’re camping out in the shop.” I stand and pull his sweatshirt over my head, “Walk me to my car?”
Deacon nods and stands with his coffee following me through the house and to my car. He reaches in front of me and opens my door, leaning in when I’ve slid in my seat and plugged my seatbelt in.
“Thank you for last night,” I say, noticing his face is inches from mine.
“Any time.”
He kisses me quickly on the lips, shuts my door and watches as I drive away.
“Where have you been?” Comes a booming voice as I walk in the front door. Oh my god.
“Kip.”
He’s standing in the hall way with his hands in his tracksuit pockets, and I can see my family huddled in the kitchen, watching.
“Where were you?” He asks, stepping away from the stairs and walking slowly towards me.
“I stayed out.” I confess, wondering if this is it. This is how he’ll find out I’ve been sneaking around behind his back. And my family are here to discover what kind of person I’ve become, “At a friend’s.”
“Which friend?”
“What is this, an interrogation?”
“I want to know where you were and who you were with, Jen.”
“I stayed at Deacon’s house.”
“What?”
I don't know why it’s such a shock really. If everyone else can see and feel what’s going on between me and Deacon then I don't know why Kip is oblivious to it.
“It’s the truth, you want me to lie about it?”
I’m so uncomfortable doing this in my parents’ house, because I know they’re listening in to everything that’s being said.
“Are you sleeping with him?”
“Jenna?” Mum calls from the kitchen.
I glare up at Kip before stepping past him and meeting my mum in the kitchen, noticing Dad and Jonas have disappeared. I hear Kip climbing the stairs and let out a loud breath.
“Everything okay?” I ask her, as she pulls me in for a hug, “Mum?”
“Don't tell him.” She whispers in my ear, “You and Deacon are old friends, there’s no reason why you can't go round to his house, have a few glasses of wine and stay in the spare room.”
She lets me go and turns around, continuing to mix a batter for pancakes. I was prepared to tell him, to admit everything and be done with the wron
gdoing and the guilt. But my mother just told me to lie, I don't know why she did that, and it’s thrown the confidence I had to finally be honest out the window.
I turn around like I’ve just been told off and walk towards the stairs, about to go and tell another lie, because there must be a reason Mum thinks I should.
“Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes!” Mum calls, loud enough for the entire village to hear as I walk up the stairs, dreading what’s waiting when I get to my room and have lost my bravado.
“Kip?” I call, opening the door. He’s sitting on my bed, looking out of the window.
“What did your mum want?”
Shit.
“She asked if I wanted pancakes. She’s made organic so you can have some too.”
Lie number one; no way would my mother buy organic ingredients but I’m hoping she’ll play along and Kip won't taste the difference.
“You didn’t answer my question.” He’s still not looking at me and I feel like this is the end.
I take a deep breath; I don't know if I can lie again. And I’m lying about something I just want to tell the truth about.
“No.” I take another steadying breath, “No I’m not sleeping with him. He’s an old friend. We fell out when his dad died. He’s like family and I spent the evening there to catch up, had too much wine and stayed over.”
“In his bed?”
“In the spare room his mother often sleeps in. Where has all this come from?”
“I don't know.” He stands up and looks at me, biting his nails, “Maybe the fact I got here early to surprise my fiancé, and find out she’s stayed at another man’s house. A man who clearly wants her.”
So he has noticed the chemistry. I stand frozen in the spot, not wanting to make this worse, and glad I showered this morning. I feel horrible. Kip is a great guy and I’ve betrayed him; and here I stand continuing to lie about it. Shit.
“I don't want to talk about this anymore.” I turn towards the door, “He’s in my life, and you need to accept that.”
“So that’s what you’re after?” He asks and I turn back to look at him, “Attention from two men?”
“If you don't know me better than that then this isn’t working.”
I leave him there, and I pray for the coward’s way out. Maybe he’ll think about it and realise we’ve never been right for each other. Our relationship the past three years has been one of reliability and convenience. Two words that should never be used when describing a relationship.
I have to end this, there is no other option. Whether Deacon and I make it or not, I can't be with anyone else. It’s unfair on Kip and I’m becoming someone I don't want to be.
“We’re going out on the boat at lunch time,” Jonas says, directing the conversation at me and completely ignoring Kip, “wanna come? Do a bit of fishing, take a few beers.”
Kip puts his cutlery down, “Jenna and I-”
“We’d love to,” I put on my best smile and cut Kip off before he decides we’re spending the day together. The last thing I want is to be on my own with him.
“If I’d have known you were so disobedient,” Kip whispers, leaning close enough that no one else can hear, “I wouldn’t have proposed.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have,” I snap and stand to clear my plate and turn to Jonas, “why don't you take Kip out? He loves fishing. I’ve got to get to the shop.”
I don't go to the shop; Mum and I spend the rest of the morning walking around the wholesalers. I send Deacon a text, telling him Kip has come early, and warn him he’ll be there for boy’s night, and wander around the shop, knowing I can't buy anything else, but I can’t go to the bakery until Kip is on the boat and a mile out to sea.
“Why did you tell me to lie?” I ask as we browse the cookie cutters.
“Things are complicated aren’t they?” She asks, “I know you and Deac are... active.”
Oh god, “Yes.” Is all I say, answering both questions without going into detail.
“Did you really want to tell Kip the truth standing in our house?” I shake my head, “I wasn’t telling you to lie, I was just reminding you there’s a time and a place for confessions.”
She’s right, as always. I don't want to hurt Kip, and embarrassing him in front of my family would have just caused more trouble.
“You’re right,” I say, throwing some animal cookie cutters in the basket, for Phillipa.
“Sometimes it helps to talk.” Mum hugs me and once again, she’s right.
I know what I want; I’ve always known. I never gave myself to anyone, never made long-term plans with Kip, never contemplated moving in or having children because it’s everything I’ve ever wanted with one person. I’ve never been more prepared to take the risk; Deacon wants me to be his. I always have been.
“Jade wants us to pick her up on the way home,” I say, reading her text, disappointed it’s not from the only person I want to talk to, “Steve wants the car while he has Pip.”
I spend too much money in the wholesalers, cram it all in the boot of my car, and drive us to pick up Jade.
The women of the family have agreed to camp out in the shop, getting everything ready for the fete tomorrow. It’s an annual thing; I haven’t been for years and I’m really looking forward to it. So, Mum, Emma, Jade, Grace and I are spending the evening in the shop, baking the cakes I came up with for the Folquay family day of the year.
“What do I do with the eggs?” Grace asks as I’m setting another batch of cakes onto a cooling rack.
“Whisk them up with the vanilla and milk. Then pour it in the mix in halves.”
Mum and Jade are busy making up the different colour icings, Emma is on my raspberry ripple cupcakes and I’m trying to juggle helping them all. We’ve been in the shop all evening and it’s dark outside.
The sound of laughter cuts through our nineties women playlist and we all look to the front of the shop. I curse, remembering I didn’t lock the door when we got here this afternoon, as an unrecognisable voice calls something out in a Chinese accent. Oh my god. We all look to each other, none of us volunteering to check out who’s come in the shop. A few chairs fall to the floor and a tell tale sound of a table scraping against the floor makes us all jump.
“Boo!”
Jonas and Deacon fall into the kitchen in a tangle and Grace screeches before she realises who it is.
“What did I say about the heart attack?!” I cry, as they stumble to balance, “Beer or vodka?”
“Both.” Jonas laughs, making a beeline for Grace who has more cake mix on her clothes than she has in her mixing bowl.
“Deac, aren’t you supposed to be at boy’s night?” Emma asks. Mum is in the corner laughing.
“Esteban cracked out the whiskey,” Deacon slurs, “then fell asleep. So we went out for food. We got Chinese.”
That explains the accent. Deacon talks to Emma, but doesn’t take his eyes off me. I don't care what anyone else around me is doing; I can't take my eyes off him either. In forty eight hours I plan to make him mine. I just have to get through this fete with the entire town, and then a dinner with Kip. Just me and him. That’s why he was meant to be coming down tomorrow after the fete. But he turned up this morning and messed everything up.
“You didn’t bring us any?” Mum asks. We all groan in unison, realising we haven’t eaten.
“Yes we did.” I look over my shoulder at Jonas. Dad’s whiskey always ruins him. Poor Grace is struggling to hold him up.
Mum, Emma and Jade battle their way to the front of the shop, looking for food, and suddenly I can smell the Chinese. But I can't move; I’d happily follow Deacon to find the food that is making my mouth water, but I can't choose food over seeing that look in his eyes.
“You didn’t text me back.” I pout.
“No, I didn’t.” He smirks, “Thought I’d let you sweat it.”
“Bastard.” Finally he moves towards the smell and I follow eagerly, “Was it okay?”
�
�Yeah, silent on my part. And his.”
Jonas pushes past us with Grace in tow, desperate to get some food before it runs out, and I stand behind the counter with Deacon watching everyone fight over the free bag of prawn crackers.
“You know he’s threatened by me, right?” He asks.
“Is he?” I already knew that, “Thanks for the food.”
I know he bought it; Jonas’ pay from his job as a waiter at Blue Rays doesn’t leave enough money left over to feed seven people the only Chinese food within twenty miles.
“No point thanking me if you’re not going to eat it.”
He steps away from the counter and walks to the empty table, slides out a chair and picks up a box from the seat. He holds it up and winks at me, before coming back to where I’m waiting. Deacon puts the box on the side, lifts me onto the counter, stands between my legs and produces chopsticks from the back pocket of his jeans.
“Open.” He orders, but I shake my head.
“What is it?” I ask.
“What’s your favourite?”
“Singapore noodles with sweet and sour chicken.”
He opens the box and tips it towards me, showing me the food exactly how I like it.
“Open.” He repeats.
I open my mouth and he uses the chopsticks to give me the noodles, feeding himself after every mouthful he feeds me.
“Is it good?” He asks.
“Everything you do is good.” I nod, watching him take a mouthful, “Perfect.”
He winks, and I love it. Something so small, something done every day, makes my heart skip a beat and the butterflies in my stomach wake up.
“Deac, can we go home?” Jonas calls from his chair. Jonas asking to go home means he needs to be sick. No negotiations.
“Duty calls.” Deacon smiles, putting the box and chopsticks next to me.
“Text me before you go to bed.”
He nods, “I’ll text you once I’m tucked up in your bed.”
“Kip will probably take my bed.” I say, disappointed that I won't have Deacon’s smell all over my sheets tomorrow.
Second Chance Hero Page 28