by Devney Perry
Willa’s gasp was barely audible over the whirl of the truck tires against the pavement.
“My aunt kept me for about a week before she turned me over to the state. I don’t know why because I never saw her again either. All she left me with was the backpack my mom had packed full of clothes and a few wrinkled papers.”
One of which had been my birth certificate. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I guess that was Mom’s way of saying she wasn’t ever coming back.
I’d wanted to go after her for years. A couple of times, I’d tried to run away from my foster homes and hitchhike back to the small Pennsylvania town where we’d lived. According to my birth certificate, it was where I’d been born. But every time I’d tried to run, I’d gotten caught by the authorities and hauled back into the system.
By the time I was old enough to make a successful runaway attempt, I hadn’t bothered. I’d found Thea and Hazel by then, and I’d written off my mother.
“Then what?” Willa asked.
“Foster care. I bounced around a lot.”
Families didn’t want an older kid with abandonment and attitude issues, so I’d moved from home to home until my freshman year. “The longest I stayed in a home was during high school. And it wasn’t because of the home. It was because of Thea and Hazel.”
“Why’s that?” she asked.
“How much of Thea’s history do you know?”
She shrugged. “Not much. She’s a private person.”
I chuckled. That was the truth. We both were. But like I trusted Willa with my story, she could be trusted with Thea’s. And since our stories were intertwined, I couldn’t tell one without the other.
“Thea doesn’t have parents either, but she didn’t grow up in foster care. She lived in this orphanage.”
“They still have those?” Willa asked.
“I doubt they do now, but at the time, yeah. It was one of the last in the city, from what I remember. I think after Thea graduated and moved out, it closed down. For a while during our senior year, she was the only kid that lived there.”
“I bet that was lonely.”
“Yeah, it was.”
Though at the time, I’d always envied her. Thea didn’t have to share a room or house with others. I’d been just as lonely as she had been, even with a foster home full of people and hardly any personal space.
I shifted a bit in my seat, never letting go of Willa’s hand. “Thea and I went to the same high school, but we didn’t meet there. I actually met Hazel first. I was at the grocery store trying to shoplift a candy bar. She caught me before the clerk did.”
“Uh-oh.” Willa winced, proving she knew Hazel well. “I bet she was pissed.”
I chuckled. “You could say that. She grabbed the Snickers and hauled my ass up to the checkout line. I thought for sure she was going to turn me in, but instead she just added it to her basket of groceries. After she bought it, she told me I could eat it but only after dinner.”
To this day, I wasn’t sure why I’d gone with her back to the orphanage. I’d been fifteen years old and had just topped six feet. I hadn’t been quite as tall or brawny as I was now, but it wouldn’t have taken much to escape Hazel.
I never even tried. I just followed her through our Brooklyn neighborhood without question.
“Hazel worked as a part-time cook at the orphanage, so she took me there. Then she sat me down at the kitchen table, told me to get started on my homework while she put the groceries away and whipped up dinner.”
Hazel had also shoved a bag of frozen peas on the black eye my foster father had given me, but I didn’t want to share that with Willa. She didn’t need to know that he was a mean bastard who loved a good fistfight. He’d put up a makeshift boxing ring in the garage, then paired us foster boys off with one another, jumping in and taking over a fight when we weren’t “taking it seriously.”
I think he got his rocks off when he landed a good punch or two. And since it was boxing practice, something to teach us respect and discipline and give us a physical challenge—such bullshit—teachers and social workers overlooked the bruises.
When I finally learned to fight well enough to land him on his ass, I let him win instead. I stroked the asshole’s ego and put up with the lack of food and four kids per bedroom all because I couldn’t risk getting thrown out of their house and sent away from Hazel and Thea.
“I was sitting at the table doing my homework when Thea came into the kitchen at the orphanage,” I told Willa. “I recognized her from school, but we’d never talked before. She hugged Hazel, got out her own schoolwork and sat next to me until dinner. Then I split my Snickers with her. We’ve been friends ever since.”
Willa gave me a small smile. “I’m glad you found them.”
“Me too.” I squeezed her hand.
They were my only family.
Hazel had been the person who made sure my homework was done. She’d been the one to feed me when I was hungry. If not for her and that orphanage, who knew where I’d be? Jail, probably.
Willa’s face turned to the side window and she watched the lake through the trees as they streaked past. Her mood darkened, changing the atmosphere in the truck. The air got heavy, weighing down on my shoulders as my heart beat even louder.
I shouldn’t have shared all that. What was wrong with me? My history was too serious for a first date.
Not ten minutes from town and I was fucking this up already.
Willa wiggled her fingers and I let go of her hand. It killed me that she needed some space.
I opened my mouth to apologize but stopped when Willa turned and flipped up the console. Then she unbuckled her seat belt and slid into the middle seat.
My arm automatically went behind her shoulders as she dove into my side. One of her arms wrapped around my waist and the other slipped behind my back.
Then she hugged me.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I dropped my cheek to the top of her hair. “It’s okay. It all worked out.”
Somehow, her arms got tighter.
“As much as I like this, I don’t want you unbuckled.”
“One more second.” She squeezed me again, then slipped her arms free.
I figured she’d slide back to the passenger seat, but she didn’t. She just let me go and dug out the lap belt that had fallen between the seats. She strapped it on and smiled before looking back down the road.
This bench seat? It was my new favorite feature of my truck. Thank god I hadn’t gone for buckets.
The heavy air disappeared and I relaxed into my seat. The smell of Willa’s coconut-and-vanilla hair infused the cab, smelling far better than the blue tree freshener I’d tucked under the backseat.
With every mile, I felt lighter. Years of baggage got smaller and smaller in my rearview mirror. Unloading my past to Willa had been freeing. And though my past had been hard, I couldn’t regret it. That road had led me here, to Lark Cove and to her.
“Can I ask you something?” she asked.
“Sure.” My hand went to her knee.
“Do you ever think about finding your mom?”
“No,” I said immediately. “She’s dead to me.”
“Okay.” Just like before, I waited. But she said nothing.
“That’s it?”
She giggled again. “Yeah. That’s it.”
“You’re not going to try and convince me otherwise? Both Thea and Hazel think it would be good to find out where she’d disappeared to all those years ago. They think it will give me closure.”
“If she’s dead to you, then she’s dead to me. That’s it.”
I eyed her profile, amazed that she was on my page. My tires thudded against the rumble strip as we drifted toward the shoulder.
“Watch the road, Jackson,” she said. “I’m starving, and crashing into a tree would put a dent in our dinner plans.”
Grinning, I turned my eyes back to the highway. “Well, we can’t have that, Willow.”
>
She flinched, her gasp much louder this time. With her mouth hanging open, Willa turned and gaped at my profile.
I chuckled. “What? Too soon to joke about the name thing?”
Her mouth snapped closed and she pursed her lips. The corners didn’t want to stay flat, even though she tried.
“Jerkface.” She shoved her elbow into my ribs, then giggled.
With that, the seriousness of our conversation disappeared. Willa stayed tucked into my side as we drove down the road to dinner, talking about everything light and airy. By the time we’d both scarfed down two huge ribeyes and made it back to Lark Cove, I knew one thing: I’d never have a better date in my life.
And when the time came, it was going to be damn hard to walk away from this woman.
Be bold.
That was my new motto.
Or at least it had been my motto for the last two minutes.
Jackson and I had arguably the best date of all time. He took me to a nice restaurant in Kalispell, a steakhouse I’d only been to once before with my parents. When I ordered the largest ribeye with sautéed mushrooms, a loaded baked potato and a side salad, Jackson didn’t even blink. He just grinned at the waitress and ordered the same.
Then we laughed. We talked—maybe more than I’d ever talked during a meal. Jackson wanted to know all about growing up in Lark Cove and my experiences in college. I wanted to know about funny stories from the bar. Hardly a moment went by where one of us wasn’t telling the other a story.
I may have watched Jackson from a distance for years, but tonight, I’d really gotten to know him. And everything I’d learned made me crave more.
“I had fun tonight,” he said as he escorted me up my staircase.
“I had fun too.” At the top step, I glanced over my shoulder. Be bold. “Would you like to come in?”
“Sure.”
I smiled, excitement bubbling in my belly as I unlocked the door. “Shoot.” I turned abruptly just inside the door. “My car is still at the camp.”
Jackson put his hands on my shoulders and spun me back around, urging me inside. “I’ll come get you in the morning and take you to work.”
Or you can just sleep here.
If I was really being bold, I would have said that out loud, but I guess I needed more practice. Still, the thought of Jackson in my apartment again sent a rush of nervous energy to my insides.
Was tonight the night I’d go all the way?
The thought of losing my virginity didn’t scare me—much. My fingers fumbled with the clasp on my pink clutch as we entered my loft. What would it feel like? Would it hurt? Would Jackson like it?
I glanced up at Jackson as I led him toward the couch. I really want him to like it.
More than anything else, I was nervous I wouldn’t be good at sex for Jackson. It was guaranteed I’d be awkward, there was no escaping the first-time jitters. But I was more anxious about Jackson’s reaction than I was for myself.
He’d take care of me. I just wanted to take care of him too.
My mouth was full of cotton; anxiety had parched me dry. So instead of going to the couch with Jackson, I turned for the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink?”
“I’m okay. Thanks.” He crouched as he approached the wall, ducking so he wouldn’t hit his head before sinking into the couch.
“I’m just going to . . .” I pointed to the kitchen, then followed my finger.
Hurrying to the cupboard with the glasses, I took one out, filled it from the tap and chugged it in three hard gulps. Then I set it in the sink and took a deep breath as I looked out the kitchen window.
Be bold.
I could do this.
I left the kitchen and took a seat next to Jackson. A silence settled over the room as my shoulder pressed into his arm, but neither of us moved. Neither of us said a word. Though we were both breathing harder than normal.
Should I touch him? Maybe stroke his leg or something?
My hands wouldn’t move off my lap.
Be bold.
I could kiss him. I bet he’d really be surprised if I swung up and straddled his lap. Except in this dress, there’d be no swinging or straddling. And dress issues aside, I probably wouldn’t have done it anyway.
“I can hear the gears turning, Willa. What’s going on in your mind?”
“Nothing.” I stared at my lap. “I, um . . .”
Be bold. For once in your life, be bold.
I took a deep breath, then blurted, “Doyouwannastaythenight?”
“Say that again?”
My eyes squeezed shut. The courage I’d scraped together to say it once had nearly wiped out my reserves, but I summoned just a smidge more. “Do you want to stay the night?”
“Yes.”
My eyes flew open as I looked up at him, astonished. “Really?”
“Yes, but I’m not going to.”
“Oh.” I wanted to crawl under the couch cushions and hide. “Okay.”
“We need to talk about a few things first.” He angled his body on the sofa, turning my way. When I didn’t move or look away from my lap, he put his hands on my shoulders, gently twisting them sideways.
I still didn’t budge.
“Work with me here, babe.”
No one had ever called me babe before, and I always thought men used it when they couldn’t remember a woman’s name.
“I don’t know if I like being called babe.”
Jackson laughed. “Then I’ll think of something else. Now will you spin this way and look at me? Please?”
I sighed and turned, reluctantly lifting my eyes to meet his.
“You’re the best kiss I’ve had in my life.”
Me? I was a good kisser? “No way.”
“Yes, way. And that tells me that everything else we do is going to be off the charts. But I messed up your first kiss. I’m not going to mess up the rest. If I stay tonight, I doubt I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
There was so much running through my mind it nearly exploded. So I began processing his speech one piece at a time, starting at the beginning.
I was a good kisser? I was a good kisser. No, the best. My inner diva was about the size of a gummy bear, but she was standing tall tonight, giving me a burst of confidence.
My fingertips left my lap to trail up his jean-covered thigh. “What if I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself?”
“Willa,” he groaned, the sound part torture, part pleasure. Before my fingers could get too far, his hand slapped down on mine. “Stop.”
I’d finally had the nerve to make a move and I’d been rejected. My gaze dropped, assessing the couch cushion again as a hiding spot.
“Hey.” Jackson’s hand came to my chin, tipping it back. “Can we just talk this through for a sec?”
I nodded. “All right.”
“I’m not going to lie to you.” He blew out a long breath. “I’m . . . nervous.”
“Nervous?” Why would he be nervous? It’s not like he hadn’t had sex before. “Why?”
“I really don’t want to fuck this up. You know? Your first,” he gulped, “time. It should be special. Not me fucking you on the couch after dinner.”
His confession, albeit crude, melted my heart. I loved that he cared to make sure I was comfortable. I loved that he was putting my feelings above his own needs.
I cupped his cheek with my palm. “Thank you.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why’d you wait?”
I dropped my hand, then looked to my lap, unable to look him in the face as I spoke. “It wasn’t like it was something I planned. My virginity has never been sacred to me. Sex just . . . never happened. I didn’t date in high school. I went out a couple of times in college, but the guys, they just weren’t right.”
I didn’t get into Leighton’s story—that was hers alone to share. But it had definitely impacted my own choices when it came to sex and men.
“
I was never so concerned with being a virgin that I felt the need to seek out someone to take it,” I admitted. “I guess I just always assumed that when the time was right, the time was right.”
“And is tonight that right time?”
Was it? Yes, I wanted to be with Jackson. But I could use a few more dates and some time with Jackson to work out my nerves. Was I ready yet? Now? “No.”
“Okay.”
“You don’t care?”
“Look at me,” he ordered, gently forcing my gaze to his. “You drive the boat. How fast or slow we go is up to you. Okay, Captain?”
I smiled. “Okay. As long as you promise never to call me Captain again.”
“I can do that.”
I sighed. “Can we at least make out or something? I feel like I’ve been waiting my entire life to kiss you, and now that I can, it’s all I want to do.”
The words came out of my mouth so fast, my brain didn’t have time to stop them. But once my ears heard it all, I definitely wanted to hide under the couch cushion.
I was begging for a kiss. Begging. Golly gee, Willa. Be bold, not desperate.
My hands came to my face, hiding my hot cheeks. “I can’t believe I said that.”
Jackson chuckled and tugged my hands away. Then his mouth slowly descended toward mine. “We’re definitely doing something, cupcake.”
I grimaced. “No on cupcake.”
He chuckled. With his lips so close, the vibration skimmed my cheek. “Sugar?” He kissed the corner of my mouth.
My eyelids drifted closed as I whispered, “No.”
“Sweetness?” Another kiss, this time to the other corner of my lips.
“No.” I wasn’t a donut.
Jackson’s soft lips trailed up my cheek, leaving tingles as they went to my ear. “Darling?”
“Uh-uh.”
He sucked my earlobe into his mouth and I went limp, falling forward into his chest. Who knew his tongue in my ear would be such a turn on?
“More.” My hands went to his chest, pressing into the cotton of his gray button-down shirt.
His lips followed their trail backward toward my mouth. His smooth jaw was hot and hard against my cheek, and even without his normal stubble, it left a burn.