Too Friendly to Date

by Nicole Helm

  “Stop thinking and say something,” Jacob demanded.

  “I’ve been lying to you.” The admission made her sick to her stomach. Five years she’d pretended this part of herself didn’t exist. It didn’t exist to him or to her. It was nothing.

  But it did, and no amount of pretending could make it stay away. So, yeah, she felt pretty damn queasy, but there was no other option.

  “I didn’t just have heart surgery when I was thirteen.” She swallowed, looking at him defiantly, because, hell, she was going to be defiant. She was going to be strong. She’d have very little left of the life she’d built for herself after this, but she wasn’t going to give up the strength part. “I had a heart transplant.”

  He stayed very still. In fact, the only movement he made was to drop his gaze to her chest.

  She kept going because she was determined to get it all out. To really make him see. There was no room for half-assed explanations anymore, not with him...pushing things he had no right to push, demanding answers for questions he had no right to ask.

  Does he really have no right?

  She didn’t want to think about that. “I was born with a defective heart. It was not a fixable issue. The only fix was a transplant. So, I got one.”

  “When you were thirteen.” Nothing in his expression, his stance, gave away his reaction, but the gravel in his voice at least pointed to some kind of emotion.

  “Yes. And the thing about a transplant, especially at such a young age, is that they don’t last forever.”

  He stepped forward, a jerky movement, something flashing across his face before he went back to blank and still. Then he cleared his throat. “No one’s heart lasts forever, Leah.”

  “Yes, but it’s pretty well certain I’m not going to be an old and gray biddy with eighty-five great-grandchildren at my feet. It’s not in the cards for me. And I just have to be okay with that, because, hey, lots of people don’t get that, either.”

  She had to take a second to work through the emotion with saying these words aloud. She’d come to grips with her reality. Learned how to deal with the knowledge that her life expectancy was definitely going to be a little shorter than it could be.

  And, sure, she could get hit by a bus tomorrow. Sure, someone else might, nothing was guaranteed in this world, but no matter how many times she accepted her fate—whatever that might be—it was hard to just be okay with so many people having a chance to be the little old lady in the rocking chair when she didn’t.

  “Well,” he said, his voice still having that low, pained tone to it. “Okay, so, I didn’t know that. But now I do. So. Was that supposed to change my mind?”

  “I’m not done, Jacob.”

  He swallowed, and though his gaze remained devoid of emotion, it wasn’t on her anymore. He was staring at the wall behind her.

  “Still demanding your answer? You really want to hear the rest?”

  He flicked his gaze to her, a hint of emotion there. But she didn’t know what it was. She couldn’t read him at all. And maybe she didn’t want to.

  “Yeah, I want to hear the rest.”

  “Fine. Good.” Sure, she’d been hoping that would be enough, but hey, half-assing it was off the table, right? “I watched my parents struggle, be afraid, put everything they had into my health. They didn’t have a choice. I was born that way and I was their child. Shitty luck of the draw and all that. But a spouse and kids of my own... That is a choice I have.”

  It wasn’t an easy one or even one she’d made right away at thirteen. Or even at eighteen, when she’d left. Life had taught her that involving anyone else wouldn’t be fair. Wouldn’t be right. Sure, she didn’t deny herself friends, but friends didn’t have to be financially invested. They didn’t have to spend nights in the hospital. They were just visitors, bystanders.

  A husband. Kids. They were participants. And she wasn’t going to deal with the guilt of tying anyone to that. She’d much rather do without.

  End of story.

  “Don’t they get a say?”

  “I don’t have a husband or kids, Jacob. That’s the point. And unless you’re proposing, which you’re not, no, the fictional ‘they’ don’t get a say. And you don’t get a say because I know you, and I don’t need your hovering and your worrying and your trying to control something that isn’t controllable.”

  Though he remained silent, empty-expressioned, she knew the wheels in his head were turning. Recalibrating his plans, whatever they had been. Making sense of the whole thing.

  The silence twisted her stomach into knots, digging the nausea deeper, sharper. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand here with his silence. She should make it clear—whatever their blip had been, it was over now. Them, in any way, shape or form, was off the table.

  But those were words she couldn’t form, couldn’t say. Pathetic, Santino. So pathetic.

  And then his eyes sharpened on her, the set of his mouth going determined, and her stomach unclenched, flipped. Because determined, focused Jacob was a dangerous thing.

  And he was focused on her.

  “I’ve done a good job so far, haven’t I? Not making a big deal about it.”

  “Y-yes. B-but...” Why was she stuttering? As though her heart had jumped into her mouth, beating in her words.

  Oh, man, she was really losing it.

  “I’m good at giving people what they want. I could give you what you want, not hovering, not controlling. I did that for my mother when I was sixteen. Surely I could do it for you now. And as for the rest...well, Leah, life sucks. People die and get sick all the time.”

  “You should want to be with someone you don’t have to try so hard for.” And she had a feeling, based on how earnestly he’d asked that initial question about doing a good job, that he’d been trying much harder than she’d suspected. “Someone who has a little better chance of not dying so...early.”

  “I...” He crossed to her, touched her face. The brush of his fingertips over her temple, her cheek, and then he looked directly into her eyes. “I want to be with you. If you were trying to change my mind on that, you failed. I’m not wanting easy, because easy isn’t any kind of guarantee. I want you.”

  Leah sucked in a difficult breath. She knew she couldn’t agree to this, believe in this. It was wrong and it would end badly, sooner or later, but with his fingertips on her face, his eyes on hers, his body so close, his words so damn earnest...

  She couldn’t think of a single reason why.

  * * *

  JACOB HELD HIS BREATH. Maybe it was silly, but he couldn’t find a way to work air in or out until he got some kind of response.

  This was crazy. The whole thing from top to bottom. From lie to half-truth to complete honesty. It was all a mess.

  But he held his breath and stayed still. On the outside, he was calm, determined Jacob. A skin he wore well. On the inside, he was a storm brewing. Fear, anger, hurt. How she could have kept this from him. How unfair the damn world was.

  How the women he loved, Mom and her cancer, Grace and her attack, repeatedly got the short end of the crappy cosmic stick.

  The women he loved.

  Christ.

  That seemed...like too much. You didn’t flip a switch and magically love someone after five years of friendship. But maybe that was the thing. Even with this lie, he knew her. In fact, finding this stuff out only reinforced the things he knew about her. Admired about her.

  She was so damn strong. She didn’t let anything get in her way. And she lived her life the way she wanted.

  Toss sex in and...well, wasn’t that love? Or was he just some kind of screwed-up weirdo?

  “You don’t want to get messed up in this kind of stuff, Jacob. Really. My parents separated. They almost drowned under the debt. They... Marc apparently resents the c
rap out of me. It’s...not fun. It’s not easy.”

  But the thing was, she wasn’t moving away from his hand on her face. She wasn’t looking away or putting any distance between them. She was looking at him, all but leaning into his touch. So...that was something.

  “We could go back to the way things were,” he said carefully. “Be friends, coworkers. Fight. Go home at the end of the day...apart. We could do all those things.”

  “Yes, we should—”

  He tightened his grip on her face. “Or we could be as brave and strong as you normally are and see if this couldn’t be something. You’re not walking out of my life anytime soon, Leah. You have a minority share in MC, you work for us and love it with every fiber of your being. Your life is here, mixed with mine, so whatever happens to you would damn well affect me whether we’re in a romantic relationship or not.”

  She took a deep breath, her eyes getting shiny, though no tears fell. He had to clear his throat, something clogging there. Maybe hope or desperation or...fear.

  “Give us a chance to be something, and if we’re not...we go back to being friends but we end on good terms. We end like this, knowing you could have tried but wouldn’t...I’m not sure how good of terms I can be on with you.”

  “That feels like a threat. I do not respond well to threats.”

  He brushed his thumb back and forth across her cheek. “Yeah, I know that about you, you difficult, infuriating woman. And I’m not making a threat. I’m just being honest. As damn honest as I can.”

  Her shoulders slumped a bit at that. “I know. I’d just...hate to think...” She took a shaky breath. “I care. You know I do. As poorly as I sometimes show it, I care so much about you, and I’d hate to see you have to hurt or grieve or sacrifice the way my parents have.”

  A tear escaped her eye, and he brushed it away. She swallowed, eyes never leaving his.

  “You said there’s a difference because you have a choice. Well, it is different because I have a choice, too. And if that’s what happens, that’s what happens. I could just as easily get sick and die, you know. Cancer and strokes run in my family like marathon runners.”

  “That’s different,” she said, her voice rusty.

  “Yeah, a little bit. But only a little.”

  “You’re really willing to...deal with the potential of all that...just to be with me?”

  “Yes. Don’t you think you’re worth it?”

  “Of course I’m damn well worth it.” Her tiny smile broadened a hair. “For the right guy.”

  Jacob stepped closer, so they were hip to hip and knee to knee. He lowered his mouth to just a whisper away from hers. “I could maybe be him.” Then he pressed his lips to hers, let his hands cup her face, then tangle in her hair.

  When he broke the kiss she blinked up at him and gave an almost-imperceptible nod. “Well, I guess we’ll find out.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “SO, UM, HOW exactly are we going to break the news to everyone?” Leah wasn’t even sure she’d fully broken the news to herself because this was...nuts.

  Wrong. Stupid. Pointless. Other bad words. Et cetera.

  Well, the shower sex had been none of those things.

  But that portion of the morning was over. They were about to step out of her bedroom, head over to MC and just...be a couple. The postsex haze was wearing off. The post–sweet words haze was wearing off. Panic was setting in.

  “This is nuts.”

  He grinned at her. “I wonder how many thoughts you’re going to have.”

  “Thoughts?”

  “Well, you’re already past second thoughts and it hasn’t even been an hour.”

  “Jacob—”

  “And luckily, I will ignore them all. Because you said yes. No take-backs.”

  “I’m glad we’re treating this situation like adults.”

  “Always, baby.”

  She glared at him. Screw him for saying “baby” in a way that made her all warm and squishy inside.

  “But seriously, how are we going to tell Grace? Kelly and Susan? Henry?”

  Jacob shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe we can throw a Jacob-and-Leah-started-having-sex party?”

  “You are not taking me seriously.”

  “Nope. Sure not.” His phone dinged and he pulled it out of his pocket. “We’re going to be there with your parents. If anyone else is there, which no one is scheduled to be, they will only think we’re pretending. I figure we can tell them once your parents aren’t around to wonder why our yearlong relationship is news to our coworkers.”

  Well, that made unfortunate sense. Or was it fortunate? Fortunate they didn’t have to tell anyone that everything they’d basically sworn up and down they weren’t going to do was happening. And it had taken only a few days, not even the whole stupid week.

  “I hate that they were right,” she grumbled as Jacob scrolled through his phone. “Are we sure they were right?”

  “Yes, ma’am. But, um, you’re going to want to save that rage for another time. I have three voice mails and five emails from the Martins.”

  “The morning after Christmas? Ugh. Why are they the worst?” They’d had some pretty annoying clients over the years, but the Martins’ demands and inability to let go really took the cake. “What is it this time?” When Jacob only made a weird face, Leah began shaking her head. “No. No, no, no. It’s not an electrical problem.”

  “It’s an electrical problem.”

  “Tell them to call a damn electrician.”

  “They did, sweetheart—you.”

  “It’s only a matter of time before I punch her. You know that, right?”

  Jacob began ushering her out the door and into the hallway. “You don’t want to do that. Not only have they referred five new people to us this year, but you know she’ll press charges. You might even go to jail for assault. And then you wouldn’t be able to share a bed with me tonight.” His hand slid from her shoulder, down her back, over her ass.

  She smacked it away. “You are coming with me, and you are keeping her distracted by any means necessary.” She wagged a finger in his face as he wrinkled his nose.

  “Ew. Don’t say it like that.”

  “Any means. Shake that nice little butt of yours. Butter her up. You keep her away from me.” Leah started walking again, but Jacob stopped her before they reached the living room.

  “The only butt shaking I will be doing,” he began, taking her off guard and trapping her against the wall, “is for you.”

  Leah bit back a smile, relaxed enough to enjoy the way he did that. All lean, rangy body pressed against hers. She could probably fight him off if she tried hard enough, but she liked this. Being covered by him. It felt good and not just let’s-get-pantsless good. It made her feel...powerful or important or desirable. Okay, all of the above.

  She had some issues. “Well, technically, you would be doing it for me,” she said, touching a finger to his top button. Then the next. “To keep me out of jail and all that. I would appreciate it and Mrs. Martin might even tip yo—”

  Before she could finish, he cut her off by pressing his mouth to hers. She smiled against it, the silliness of the argument working to melt away some of her anxiety over the whole her-and-Jacob situation.

  “Ahem.”

  Jacob pulled away and Leah blinked at Marc’s profile.

  “Uh, sorry,” she said with a wince as Marc walked past on his way to the bathroom. It was silly to blush, for a lot of reasons. But she really didn’t know how to act at all. With this whole Jacob thing. With Marc. Why did dudes have to be so hard to deal with?

  And then Mom appeared from the laundry room and she remembered it was definitely not just dudes.

  “Don’t you two look cozy,” she said with a broad grin. “Ready fo
r breakfast?”

  “You don’t have to make breakfast every morning, Mom. I could pick something up. We could get doughnuts. I—”

  “Nonsense.”

  Of course. Why should Mom let her handle anything? In her own house. “Jacob and I might actually have to do some work today, make a house call. You guys can still come with, but you might be more comfortable to stay behind.”

  “Of course. We don’t want to be in the way. You two do what you have to do. There’s some car museum your father wanted to go to, and I could do some shopping. Go. Work. But eat some breakfast first. You know how important it is you start your day off with protein, Leah honey.”

  Leah smiled. She didn’t feel like fighting something so small any more than she liked the overly thoughtful look on Jacob’s face.

  Was this what she’d agreed to? Her mother would leave and Jacob would step in with the worry machine?

  “You know, Mrs. Santino, we really do have to get going. We’ll get something at MC. Besides, you’ve been feeding us so well, I don’t know how we’ll ever be hungry again.”

  Mom frowned, opened her mouth to speak, but Jacob was already ushering Leah out the door.

  Shoving feet into boots, she glanced at him. “I thought you were going to take her side for a minute there.”

  “You don’t want me to, though,” he said simply.

  Which was a sentiment that produced two completely different reactions in her. One...joy or relief. Someone was willing to do what she wanted. Which was wonderful.

  But the second one was dread. Dread she didn’t know whether to listen to or not. Because shouldn’t he be not taking Mom’s side because he didn’t want to? Didn’t agree?

  She wasn’t sure which was the right emotion, wasn’t sure how to even begin to figure it out. So, she had to do what she always did in the face of a problem. Bulldoze through until something clicked.

  It wasn’t always the prettiest solution, but what other choice did she have?

  * * *

  LEAH WAS KILLING HIM. Poking around the fuse box, air thick with sawdust and probably century-old mold spores or something. But she didn’t put on a mask.