Forty and Free: A Sweet Romance Series Bundle - Books 1 - 4

by Blake, Lillianna

  But Mateo was a little different. He hadn’t given up on life. He was angry to be living it. Maybe she was giving him a little too much credit considering the situation, but she couldn’t look away. Those cinnamon-shaded irises drew her in as if they wielded a force of their own. There wasn’t much in life that surprised her, but Mateo had managed to.

  When he set off to find his keys, she raced toward her car. She didn’t want to slow down, so she ran as hard and fast as she could.

  Once she was inside her car and driving, the enormity of what she’d done hit her. Her entire body reacted to the rush of adrenaline that flooded through her. Her heart raced, her eyes watered, and she drew deep open-mouthed breaths to try to control the myriad of emotions that assaulted her.

  Would he call the police? Would he be waiting for her when she got home? She didn’t plan to throw his keys, it just happened that way. After she did it, she wasn’t sure why she’d done something so foolish.

  Jillian tried to focus on the road while at the same time attempting to clear her mind. Her mind shifted back to what she’d seen in his eyes when she looked into them. It shook her to the core to think that his anger could mask so much. There was no question that Mateo was in a lot of pain.

  As she drove down the road she realized that they were acting a bit like children. He blocked her way, she threw his keys—none of that was normal or acceptable adult behavior. Instead of being a beacon of logic and calm, she’d sunk to his level. It disturbed her that he had such an impact on her.

  She pulled into the parking lot of the small park. She made sure that her doors were locked before she walked away, as she didn’t want to risk his following her and doing something to her car. As she walked down a short stone path to a familiar bench, her entire body shivered with the reality of what she’d done.

  What if he couldn’t find his keys? Would she have to pay for a new set? Could he sue her? None of these worries had gone through her mind before her rather irrational actions. It was impossible for her to understand how or why she’d reacted that way.

  As she sat on the bench she attempted to go into her meditation. It only took a few minutes for her to realize that her anxiety was way too high to allow her a peaceful state of being.

  To calm her nerves, she logged onto Forty and Free, the online group that her friend Ella had introduced her to. She wanted to check in with a few of the women and especially Angela, whom she’d been coaching.

  She skimmed through a few posts—none of which compared to the description of the odd day she’d been having—then she started a private chat with Angela.

  How are you doing today?

  A few minutes later Angela’s response came.

  Doing okay.

  Did you go on a date last night?

  Yes. But I went home early.

  Why?

  I just wasn’t enjoying myself. He wasn’t the right person for me.

  You can’t know if he’s the right person if you don’t give him time to show who he is.

  I know, I know, but it wasn’t right. I’ll try again tomorrow night.

  Good luck!

  She saw that Angela had logged off. As Jillian stared at the screen, she recognized that she was irritated by Angela’s refusal to even participate in her dates. She often didn’t even want to go on the dates. She was an interesting woman with a beautiful personality, but she clammed up whenever it came to socializing. Angela had explained to Jillian more than once that she didn’t believe in love, and so she didn’t see the point in dating.

  Jillian thought about what Hannah had said to her about Angela’s issues bringing up Jillian’s own feelings about love. It was clear by her irritation that there might be something to Hannah’s observation, but she couldn’t understand why.

  She pulled her feet up on the bench under her and sighed. As she rested her chin on the top of her knees she gazed out at the large butterfly bushes in front of her. Nature always calmed her. She’d embraced it for many years. But there were some things that couldn’t be satiated even with the hypnotic flap of butterfly wings.

  There had to be something about Angela’s beliefs that had struck a hidden truth within Jillian. She enjoyed romance and she’d had a few strong healthy relationships, but none had lasted. Nothing tragic had happened and the division in most cases had been mutual.

  Was it possible that there was something about love that she avoided without realizing it? At forty, she’d never dated anyone she would consider marrying, but in her mind she had a picture-perfect image of what that marriage would be like.

  Her parents had offered her a stellar example of romance. She’d always witnessed their sweet small kisses and they’d always had a compliment for one another. How could she have a bad impression of romance?

  She closed her eyes as she recalled her mother’s laughter that night as her father had danced her across the living room. They were going out on their monthly date, and her mother wore a brand new dress. Jillian didn’t remember ever seeing her mother look more beautiful.

  It was a perfect memory, marred forever by the fact that her parents never made it home that night. She winced at the thought of the accident. Even after years of working through her grief, the pain was still there.

  With another sigh she stood up. It was time to go back and confront whatever consequences she might face.

  Chapter 12

  Mateo thought about going after Jillian when he finally found the keys, but he didn’t see a reason. She hated him now, and he didn’t blame her. He wasn’t very fond of her either.

  He looked over his badly scratched-up hands with a grimace. As he stepped back into the house, he wondered if she would file a complaint against him. He wasn’t sure if she would—considering that she’d basically stolen his car—but if she did, that would be one more problem on top of the mountain he already had to deal with.

  He paced through the house in an attempt to calm down, but that seemed to have the opposite effect, as everything he noticed was something that needed work. He was overwhelmed by the amount of work that needed to be done and the short time he wanted to do it in.

  He stepped into the bathroom to clean and bandage his hands. When the water hit the deep scratches he winced at the burning sensation. Instead of the pain making him angry at Jillian, he acknowledged that he deserved all of it.

  When he and Kate would fight, she’d pluck at his weakest points. She knew so much about him and his life. She knew how to hurt him when she wanted to. It wasn’t an excuse to lose his temper, but he never understood how she could be so cruel to him one moment and the next act as if she was completely in love with him.

  His emotions worked in a different way. If he claimed to love, he loved. If he claimed to be loyal, he was loyal. He didn’t drift back and forth. But Kate, in his mind, had always had one foot out the door.

  It seemed to him that she’d been looking for a better option than him. She’d never cheated—that he knew of—but she’d let him know what a failure she considered him to be. She always wanted more—more money, more house, more of his time. Only, if he was at work, she was angry that he was neglecting her. If he was at home, she was angry that he wasn’t working overtime to earn more money.

  No matter how many times he’d tried to figure out exactly what she wanted from him, he never could—not until the last few months, when she was crystal clear about what she wanted—a divorce.

  He grimaced and looked down at his shredded hands. That’s what he felt like inside—torn up and raw.

  His mind shifted back to Jillian and her calm nature. He had provoked her on purpose. He knew that he was out of line. He’d certainly proved Kate right. No one should treat another person the way he’d been treating Jillian.

  It was a struggle to bandage his own hands, but he knew he had to, otherwise he might not be able to continue with his work the next day. After he did the best he could, he stared into the bathroom mirror.

  If he was being honest with himself
, he knew why he was behaving the way he was around Jillian. It wasn’t that he was irritated by her, or that he thought her meditation was ridiculous. It was that she interested him. While that made him angry in itself, it also made him want to scare her away.

  She was unmistakably beautiful. When she turned on him with rage etched into her features, she became even more attractive. Maybe it was the loneliness of the move, or maybe it was his burning need for something to be good in his life, but he was fascinated by her—not that he could let her know that and not that she would ever speak to him again. She had every right to never look in his direction.

  Mateo left the bathroom and walked out through the back door.

  His backyard and Jillian’s were separated by a thin line of trees. He guessed that she was the one who’d planted them, as they were quite young. They did nothing to block the view of the stone fountain and fire pit a few feet from her patio.

  He noticed that there was a small garden, as well as several flowerbeds sprinkled throughout her backyard. She was obviously someone who spent a lot of time in nature. He could see why. The view of the lake was picture perfect. Despite the chaos of earlier, the nature around him remained placid.

  He recalled a time when all it took was a swim or a run to ease his frustrations. Now, it felt like his anger had become a mountain that was crushing down on him. He had no way to escape from it. Instead of being a decent neighbor, he’d taken his anger out on an innocent woman, who’d made her best effort to connect in a friendly manner with him. He could acknowledge that he was a terrible person, but he had no idea how to change that.

  He walked back into the house and caught sight of Jillian’s headlights through the front window. His heart skipped. Would she be willing to speak to him? He thought about the bottle of wine she’d brought him. Maybe it was an excuse to start up a conversation.

  He grabbed the wine and stepped out through his front door.

  As she parked the car, he drew back into the shadows. He wasn’t sure if he was brave enough to actually apologize. Would she even allow him to apologize? He tightened his grasp on the bottle and thought about where things might go.

  Did he really want to strike up a conversation with her? It might encourage her to continue to try to connect with him. As curious a he was about her, he wasn’t sure if that was something that he wanted. Still, he found himself crossing the distance between his property and hers. He remained in the shadows, still uncertain of whether he would speak up or not.

  He expected her to walk up to her front door. When she, instead, began to walk around the side of the house toward the lake, he knew that he only had a short time to get her attention. He had to make a decision.

  Did he want her to continue to see him as nothing more than a monster, or did he want to take a chance that she might see him as something else?

  At the last second, he stepped forward.

  “Jillian.”

  Chapter 13

  “Just remain calm.” Jillian repeated the words to herself several times as she pulled her car up the driveway. She noticed that Mateo’s truck was right where he’d left it and wondered if that might be a sign that he hadn’t found his keys. Her body tensed at the idea.

  She parked in front of her house and braced herself for what might happen next. When she didn’t see Mateo anywhere around outside, she thought she might make it to the door of her house without interference.

  As quietly as possible, she opened her car door. She stepped out of the car. Again, she looked around for any sign of him. It was very quiet—too quiet. His music wasn’t playing. There weren’t any sounds of drills or hammers being used.

  A wave of disappointment washed over her. A part of her expected to see Mateo again—maybe even looked forward to seeing him again. She was curious about whether that pain she saw in his eyes was genuine, or just her own imagination trying to create something she could empathize with.

  So many thoughts running through her head meant she could use a trip down to the lake to sort them out. She started to walk around the side of the house.

  “Jillian.”

  His deep voice drew her attention and at the same time her survival instincts kicked in. One of the men she’d dated had been a martial arts instructor and he’d taught her several moves to protect herself. She shifted into a defensive stance as she turned to face the male voice.

  Through the shadows, she recognized Mateo’s frame.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He stepped further out into the moonlight.

  “You’re on my property.” She stared at him, still ready to attack. “What do you want?” Her heart raced. Was he there to threaten her? Did he get a restraining order? She had no idea what his intentions might be.

  He was silent for long enough that she thought he might turn around and leave without saying another word.

  “I want to apologize.” His voice was stiff. “I mean—I do apologize. I’m sorry about earlier.”

  She lowered her cocked fist and studied him. “You are?”

  “Yes. I should have just moved the truck.” He paused a moment.

  When he took a step closer to her she shied back a step.

  “I’m sorry if I scared you when I hit the truck. I wouldn’t ever hurt you. I don’t want you to think that you’re living next to some kind of psychopath.”

  “I don’t.” She bit into her bottom lip. “I hadn’t really thought about what you might be dealing with, Mateo. I should have recognized that you’re having a difficult time.”

  “That’s no excuse. I thought maybe we could have that glass of wine you offered? If that’s something that you’d like, I mean?” He lifted his eyes to hers.

  She noticed the bottle of wine in his grasp. Don’t do it, Jillian. Leave well enough alone. She ignored her own instructions and smiled.

  “Let me get the glasses. We can have a drink on the patio. The moon is beautiful tonight.”

  When she reached for the bottle of wine to open it, she noticed the bandages on his hands.

  “What happened?” She touched the loose bandage that covered his right hand.

  He tensed at the touch and met her eyes. “I found my keys.”

  Jillian immediately regretted throwing them. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that something I did caused you to be in pain. Really, that isn’t like me. I don’t know what got into me.”

  “I should have moved the truck. You were right to be upset. Although what you did was more than a little surprising.”

  “It surprised me too.” She lowered her eyes. “It was shameful behavior.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “There was nothing shameful about it. It certainly got my attention.”

  “Let me fix these for you.” She touched his bandaged hand again, then looked up into his eyes.

  “It’s fine.” He started to draw back.

  “Please, Mateo. I know how much work you have to do. I can tighten these bandages enough so that you can still work.”

  He glanced back at his house, then looked at her. “Okay.”

  “Come inside.”

  It wasn’t until she slid the key into the lock that she realized what she was doing. Did she really want to invite Mateo inside? What if all this was just a ploy to make her vulnerable? The concern was founded, but she pushed it aside.

  She unlocked the door and pushed it open. As Mateo stepped past her, he seemed to be calmer, but was he really? He paused just inside the door as if he was hesitant to go any further.

  When she looked over her shoulder at him she could see fear in his expression.

  “It’s okay, you can come in.” She gestured toward the bathroom. “I have some fresh bandages and some special spray to take the sting out. I often tear up my hands while I’m gardening. You’d think one of these days I’d wear gloves, but I guess I just like the feel of the soil on my hands.”

  He smiled at her—in a way that she thought was impulsive and sweet. “That’s an interesting way of looking at it.�
� He followed her toward the bathroom.

  Once they were inside the small space, Jillian become acutely aware of how close they were to one another. She reached into the medicine cabinet for the spray and bandages, which caused her arm to brush against his shoulder.

  He pulled back away from her enough to give her more space. “This really isn’t necessary. My hands are fine.”

  She took one of his hands in hers and pulled back the bandage. When she saw the jagged scratches she was surprised. She glanced up at him. “These are pretty deep.”

  He looked past her into the mirror and didn’t speak.

  “I’m sorry Mateo.”

  “Don’t be.”

  “This may sting at first.” She sprayed the scratches.

  He pulled back a little and grimaced.

  “It’ll feel better in just a second.” She trailed her thumb along his palm in a soothing motion.

  Chapter 14

  When Mateo felt the brush of Jillian’s thumb against his hand, his breath caught in his throat. He closed his eyes and tried to be as still as possible. Could that jolt of electricity that carried through him really mean what he thought it meant? The very idea made his emotions churn.

  “I should go.”

  She kept his hand in hers. “It’s okay, Mateo. It’ll make me feel better if I know that the damage I caused is healing.” She sought his eyes.

  He refused to look in her direction. The intimacy of the close quarters made him feel like a giant beside her—an unpredictable, violent giant. How could she be willing to take such a risk and be near him after all the anger he’d directed toward her earlier?

  “It’s not your fault. I should have stopped what I was doing to take the time to put gloves on.”

  “But you didn’t.” Her voice was as soft as the bandage she’d begun to wrap around his hand. “Maybe because you thought you deserved to be in pain?”

  The question hung in the air between them. His chest tightened around the emotions that surged through him. He couldn’t speak.

  “It’s okay.” She began to bandage his other hand. “It’s easy to feel like you deserve to suffer if you’ve been through something traumatic. When my parents died in a car accident, I found a million ways to punish myself. I thought I should have known before they’d left the house that something bad was going to happen, that maybe I should have been with them that night, or I should have asked them to stay just five minutes longer.” She sighed as she sealed the bandage with tape. “Sometimes when things out of our control happen, the easiest thing to do is blame ourselves. It’s easier to believe that it’s our fault than to face the idea that bad things can just happen.”