Jake raised a brow, then went back to tending to his eggs. Sunny side up, like always. “I’m not sick, but I didn’t get much sleep last night, and didn’t think it was a great idea to leave you alone today.”
“Sorry,” I said, and I really was. I was a huge inconvenience and I knew it. “At least it’s a Friday, so you get a long weekend?”
“Yeah,” he said.
But I still felt guilty. Jake hadn’t asked to be awakened in the middle of the night. Hadn’t asked to give up his own bed just so he could toss and turn on the couch. Hadn’t asked to be involved in my problems, either. And when my mobile phone started buzzing on the countertop, he looked at it askance. “It’s been doing that all morning, Nicky. I think it’s the asshole who hit you.”
Carlos. Wow, the upsetting memory of what’d happened rushed through me again, and I leaned against the countertop to steady myself. Carlos would have awakened from his drunken stupor to find me gone. He’d be pissed. Maybe he’d even be sorry, and want to apologize. Like he did before.
But for some reason, at this moment, I just wasn’t even curious about his reaction. He could fuck off. And when I gave a contemptuous shrug without even reaching for the phone, Jake’s expression lightened, and he gave me a nod of approval, as if to say, atta girl. “Hungry?”
I should’ve said no. I’d already imposed on him enough. But my stomach actually growled in answer, which made us both laugh a little. “You like ‘em scrambled, right?”
“Yep. Scrambled. Just like my life,” I replied, wondering if it would feel better to joke about it.
Nope. Didn’t make me feel better.
“Can I help?” I asked.
Jake nodded. “Bacon’s already done. Potatoes are in the bowl. They need butter…or something.”
“I can do better than butter,” I said. If we’d been home, my mom kept a pantry full of exotic spices, but Jake just had the basics. Still, I could make do with some seasoned salt, cayenne pepper, garlic powder and olive oil.
Cooking together was actually kind of nice, as it turned out, because it gave me something to do, and I forgot why I was here, and by the time we sat down to breakfast—even though it was really lunch time—Jake and I were reminiscing about high school friends, and some of the dumb shit they used to do.
While I sipped at hot coffee and nibbled at the end of a crispy piece of bacon, Jake shoveled a forkful of potatoes into his mouth and groaned. “Wow, Nicky, these are great. Really great.”
“It’s just seasoning. If I’d had some onions, hot peppers, herbs and goat cheese, I’d have knocked your socks off.”
He made a face. “Goat cheese?”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Left it in the sandbox,” he said, of the war-torn Middle Eastern country where he’d served. But he didn’t say it so grimly as to change the mood.
“Yeah, I bet. But goat cheese is great. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. Besides, if I can make you groan with my spice-skills, just think what I could make you do if you gave me free rein.”
In your kitchen…
That’s what I meant by it. But he stopped mid-bite, his fork just hovering there, as if he’d heard a whole lot of sexual innuendo. And the awkwardness between us stretched until I pulled the blanket tighter around me where I sat cross-legged at the table, murmuring, “Good coffee.”
Jake cleared his throat. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” I said, picking at my scrambled eggs. “Better, I mean.”
“We should’ve taken pictures of your face last night,” he said, scooping a second helping of potatoes onto his plate before finishing the first. “Unfortunately, you’ve got remarkably good powers of healing. Given how you looked last night, I thought you’d be more bruised than you are today.”
“Unfortunately?”
Jake looked up from his plate. “You know what I mean. Fortunate for your face. But unfortunate in terms of proving what he did to you.”
Oh, he still thought he could convince me to go to the cops. “Give it a rest, will you? The last thing I want to do is stretch all this out and make it into a thing.”
“It is a thing, Nicole.”
I took a bite of egg and had to fight the wince of pain when I chewed. He was right. It was a thing. But I didn’t want it to be. “I just want to be done with Carlos.”
The fact that I hadn’t picked up the phone was proof of that.
Jake sighed. “Well, that’s good, I guess. But what’s ahead of you on the road? You can’t go back to the club and work there anymore…”
Shit. That was a really good point. One that I hadn’t thought much about. And the thought of having to move back in with my mom…ugh. “I think there’s a job opening at the pancake house. It doesn’t pay as much as the club, but it’d be something.”
Jake took a swallow of coffee, then sat back in his chair. “It’d be some money coming in for the short term, sure. And you should check it out. But maybe you should also think about doing something bigger with your life.”
“Okay, dad,” I said, rolling my eyes. Not that I’d ever had a dad to roll my eyes at. Not really. Not even his.
“I’m serious,” Jake said, undeterred. “I realize this town doesn’t exactly encourage aspirations, but you’re too smart and vibrant and beautiful to settle for a life with some loser like Carlos. You could have a bright future doing something you loved…”
Wait, what? He thought I was smart, vibrant and beautiful? He’d never said anything like that to me before. Truthfully, it’d been a while since anybody had said anything like that to me. And I warmed a little from the insides in a way that had nothing to do with my hot mug of coffee. “A bright future doing what?”
“I dunno. Something. Maybe you could go to culinary school…or…I know you love animals. Maybe you could become a veterinarian.”
Truthfully, I loved both those ideas. But I was afraid to even consider them, because I knew one thing for sure. “School costs money and I don’t have any.”
“I didn’t have any either. Which is why I joined the army. Sure, it means it’ll be a while before I have my college degree, but I won’t have debt when I’m through—”
“Well, bully for you,” I snapped, frustrations of living in a poor town without many opportunities surfacing. “Not all of us are cut out to be soldiers and go to college on Uncle Sam’s dime.”
“No, but there are scholarships and other—”
“Ok, I’ll have to look into it.”
“Don’t do that,” Jake said.
I munched on the last bit of bacon. “Do what?”
“That thing you do. Shrug off opportunities to better yourself. Look, given how little you were when your dad was thrown in prison, it must’ve done a real number on you growing up. It probably shook your confidence and made you feel like you couldn’t succeed—”
“Don’t analyze me,” I said, not wanting to talk about my dad, the drug dealer, who I’d seen a total of twice in my life. Both times during visiting hours at the state prison. Thinking about it, in fact, made me lose my appetite altogether. So I stood up, and took my dish to the sink.
Jake abandoned his breakfast to follow me. “The fact that your dad is a fuck up isn’t genetic, you know. And even if it were, your mom is a great lady who knew how to pick herself up again. She got her nursing degree. She has a happy marriage now. A happy life. You can too. You’re not like your father, Nicole. And you don’t have to end up with a guy like him, either.”
It was single most presumptuous thing anybody had ever said to me. I didn’t care that there might be some kernel of truth in it. I just cared that Jake had the fucking nerve to say it. “Hey. You don’t get to lecture me like you’re really my brother. You’re not, okay?”
Jake leaned back against the countertop in the galley kitchen, his hands griping the edge of it so tight his knuckles went white. “I never wanted to be your brother, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” I
said, my face going hot, my stomach roiling with upset—at exactly what, I wasn’t sure. Maybe it was that he brought up all the bullshit about my dad. Or maybe it was that for a while there, eating breakfast together, I was feeling something for him that I shouldn’t have felt. “I know you never wanted to be anything to me. You’ve never wanted anything to do with me at all.”
“You’re wrong about that.”
Sudden tears pricked at my eyes while I rinsed my plate. “Whatever.”
“You’re wrong, Nicole. Well, you’re right about one thing. I don’t want to be a fucking brother to you,” he said, his voice rising, throaty with emotion. “I want…”
He trailed off and I turned to stare at him. His chest was heaving with deep breaths and I was suddenly very confused. “Wh-what do you want?”
His hands went from gripping the countertop behind him, to gripping the countertop behind me—penning me in between his strong arms. “You, Nicole. I’ve always wanted you…”
~~~
Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.
What the hell was happening?
Standing nearly nose-to-nose with Jake, so close that I could feel his hot breath on my face, so close that I could feel the heat radiating off his strong chest, a rush of arousal and confusion swirled hot through my veins. My eyes widening, I stammered, “But—but that one time, when we kissed…”
He groaned. And this time, it was a lot sexier than the time he groaned over the potatoes. “That goddamned kiss.”
“You remember it?”
“Do I remember it?” he asked, startling a little bit. “I can’t forget it! I’ve been thinking about that kiss for almost five years. The way your mouth was so hot and wet. The way you smelled like coconut sun tan lotion. The way the sun was reflecting off the pool onto your hair. I remember everything about that kiss.”
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Inside, I was freaking out. But outside, I was desperately trying to hold it together, because it just didn’t make any sense. “Then why…why didn’t it happen again?”
He swallowed, touching his forehead to mine. “Because I knew better. You were my stepsister. You were off limits.”
“Says who?”
“Says everybody,” Jake said, his voice cracking. “My dad gave me the evil eye every time I looked at you—and reminded me that you’d had a hard life. I knew I was going into the army. I didn’t want to be another guy to abandon you.”
My world was shifting under my feet so quickly, I couldn’t keep up. “So, instead, you treated me like crap?”
Jake frowned. “I didn’t treat you like crap. I just tried to stay away from you. I tried to steer clear of you. I tried to be a nice guy who wouldn’t take advantage of you. But I’m obviously not a nice guy…”
“Yes, you are.”
“No,” Jake said, his knee pushing between mine, with a promise of more. “I’m not. Because a nice guy wouldn’t do this…”
Before I could take another breath, his mouth came down on mine, capturing my lips. And I completely melted into his arms.
Though he held me hard, his kiss was gentle, maybe mindful that I was still a little banged up. He tasted like bacon and coffee and the smoothness of his mouth was like velvet against mine. He kissed me with a lingering heat. And while I couldn’t believe it was happening, I definitely didn’t want it to stop.
My arms went around his neck, and I kissed him back. I mean I really kissed him back, not caring about my injuries. And it was even better than that amazing kiss by the pool all those years ago, because this time I wasn’t a horny teenager. I was a grown woman, and I understood all the exciting feelings rushing through my body.
I also understood the feelings that must be rushing through his body when his erection pressed against my groin. And now it was my turn to groan. Oh my god. He was hard for me. Jake was hard. For me. And I wanted to reach out and touch him. Somewhere. Everywhere.
But just as my arms slid around his waist to draw him closer, he pulled back. We broke apart, and something like panic seemed to skitter across his face. Then his eyes darkened, brow furrowing. “Shit. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be sorry,” I said, looping my fingers into his jeans, wanting his arms around me again. Wanting his lips on mine. My heart was thumping so hard it seemed like it might jump out of my chest if he didn’t press himself against my front to keep it inside. “Just kiss me again.”
Instead, Jake pounded the countertop behind me with his bare fist, making the dishes and pans shake. “Shit!”
I wasn’t normally the jumpy sort, but the slam of his fist set off some reflex. I yelped, twisting away, and cowering a little bit by the dishwasher while Jake’s expression flashed from frustration, to confusion, to mortification. “Oh fuck me, Nicole. Could I be any bigger of an asshole? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you…”
“I—I’m not. Scared of you, I mean. I wanted to be kissing you. I liked—I really liked—kissing you, I mean. I don’t—I don’t know why I jumped like that. Or why I’m stammering like an idiot now.”
His hand pushed through his dark hair, and he leaned back against the fridge with a sigh. “Given what you went through last night, we both know why. You’re not ready for this. Which is just one of the many reasons why I’ve got no fucking business kissing you. And which is why I need to take you home.”
I wanted to tell him he was wrong. Hell, I wanted to jump him and pull his clothes off and prove to him how wrong he was. But the fact that I was still trembling and couldn’t tell if it was from excitement or fear made me wonder if he wasn’t at least a little bit right.
Even so, I was terrified of rejection and wondering if there was something wrong with me that I didn’t understand why we had to be off limits together when we weren’t related by blood. And in the midst of this maelstrom of emotion, instead of doing something stupid, like I usually did, I somehow I reached down inside of myself and found the strength to be honest. “So are we supposed to pretend this kiss didn’t happen like we pretended the last one didn’t happen? Because I’m not okay with that.”
He took a deep breath as if he was ready to argue with me. But whatever he was going to say died on his tongue. Seeming to change his mind, he gave a little shake of his head and his big shoulders slumped a little. “No. We can’t pretend it didn’t happen. I guess I’m not okay with that either.”
I exhaled a breath of relief I hadn’t known I was holding in. “So what are we gonna do about it, then?”
~~~
What we did about it was play video games.
For him, I think it was a way of blowing off steam and delaying the inevitable discussion. But I didn’t mind, because I wasn’t ready to go home to my parents and the tension between us had been so high that a little down time was welcome.
With breakfast dishes forgotten, we sacked out on his couch with remotes, racing one another across his television screen in cars we could never afford. But if there’s anything Jake knew, it was cars, and he explained the benefits of his favorite to me only to watch me crash it on screen.
“This is why we can’t have nice things,” Jake said, laughing a little. He was a pretty serious guy normally, which was a shame, because he had a deep throaty laugh that made me tingle all the way to my toes. “You’re reckless!”
“I’m just willing to take risks,” I said, slinging my legs over his with a familiarity I knew made him uncomfortable, but which felt right to me at the time. “Besides, if I crash, all I’ve got to do is press the do-over button.”
He seemed unsure of whether or not he should rest his controller on my legs, then, ultimately, gave in. “I can’t decide if that’s a great attitude or a dangerous one.”
“Probably both,” I admitted. “But hey, you must believe in do-overs too, or you’d have never come back to this town. You’d have put us in the rear view mirror when you came back stateside, and never looked back.” He cringed a little bit, which prompted me to ask, “Why did you come
back, anyway?”
“Familiarity, I guess.”
He hesitated, as if he was going to say more, but then he didn’t.
“Familiarity? Well, that’s just sad. If I had the chance to get out of here, I’d go…I dunno. Everywhere.”
“You say that, but other parts of the world aren’t all that great.”
I cradled the remote on my chest. “I’m not talking about some war torn country. I mean, I dunno. Somewhere like Paris. Or even New York.”
“I knew you were going to say New York,” he said, with an unexpected smile. And sigh. That smile. It did more than turn me on. It made me happy. I liked making him smile. I liked it a lot.
I liked even more when he shook his head and said, “As an aside, you look crazy hot in my pajama pants.”
“Also as an aside, I look crazy hot in everything,” I flirted in return, glad that Carlos hadn’t been able to knock the spirit out of me completely.
Jake let out a long breath. “Yeah, you do, which always made it torture living with you. Knowing that I could look but not touch…”
“You weren’t the only one,” I blurted. “I had the hugest crush on you.”
He swallowed, staring down at me pensively. “You did?”
“You have no idea,” I said, fighting off an uncharacteristic blush to my cheeks. “So you could’ve touched me. You should’ve. We would’ve had a really good time.”
He frowned, which wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for. “No, we couldn’t have. That’s the problem. If there was ever anything between us, Nicole, it can’t just be for a good time. Not after everything my dad and your mom went through to find love and make a new family together. It’s not worth risking that just for a good time.”
Some part of me wanted to ask: Why the hell not?
But that was the reckless part of me. The part of me that crashed video cars and ended up with Carlos. And as much as Jake’s more thoughtful, cautious nature annoyed me…it also got through to me on some level. If Jake and I hooked up and our parents found out, they’d flip. Worse, if we hooked up and things went badly, Jake and I would be even more awkward together than ever. And if my mom and Larry started taking sides…
Stepbrother Savior Page 2