Down On Me (Man of the Month Book 1)

by J. Kenner

  "You?"

  "Reece thought we should tell you right away. But I..."

  "What?"

  "Don't tease me, Brent. You know me too well. I was scared, okay? I love you, too. And this—with Reece, I mean—it changes everything."

  "You're right," he said, and her eyes shot to his in shock. "It does change everything."

  Her heart was suddenly pounding very hard. "What are you—"

  "And you're right that you're an idiot," he continued.

  She frowned, confused, but a tiny bit of the terror was lifting. "Am I?"

  "Do you think we haven't already survived change? The three of us, I mean?" Before she could answer, he turned and pointed to Faith. "Faith was one hell of a change. Did I lose either of you?"

  "No." Her word was barely a whisper. "It's just that I—"

  He pulled her roughly to him, his hands on her shoulders, and he stared into her eyes with the same intensity with which she'd seen him look into Faith's. It's just a nightmare, sweetie. None of it is real.

  "I know," he said to Jenna now. "I know it scares you. I even know why. But you won't lose me."

  "You." She turned the word over in her head, examining the implications. "But you think I might lose him?"

  He didn't deny it. "Just be careful before you get in too deep."

  Her heart skipped a beat, but she understood what he was talking about. How could she not? She knew Reece as well as Brent did—better when you factored in the last couple of days. And she'd seen the way his expression had closed off when Faith mentioned being a flower girl at their wedding.

  "I went in with eyes open," she told Brent. "And we've just barely gone from friends to lovers."

  "All I'm saying is to be careful. And to be sure what you want—and what you're willing to settle for—before you get too deep."

  She managed a sideways smile. "No worries. I'm already treading water. And the truth is, I'm a damn good swimmer."

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was six in the morning when Jenna let herself into Reece's apartment. She'd considered going during the night, but she wasn't sure if he'd still be at the hospital with Edie and his dad. And besides, she'd wanted a few hours to get a handle on her thoughts.

  Now that she'd managed that, she was done waiting.

  She hadn't bothered knocking, nor did she bother calling out once she was inside. The garage apartment was tiny, with a loft-style bedroom over part of the living area, a kitchen tucked into a sunlit corner, and a decent sized bathroom on the opposite side of the space.

  That's where Reece was. He'd left the door slightly open, and steam from his shower escaped into the apartment, a swirl of white mist that seemed to draw her near. She could smell him. Or his soap, at least. A clean, masculine scent. And when she pushed the door open and stood on the threshold, she could see his outline behind the foggy shower door.

  For a moment she simply watched him, succumbing to the rush of pure, visceral need that coursed through her, settling between her thighs and making her wet. Then she walked to the stall and opened the door.

  "I was wondering if you were going to join me," he said, his back still to her. He turned. "I was hoping you would," he added, and if the state of his erection was any sign, he meant it.

  "You knew I was here?" A stupid comment, since obviously, he'd known. She glanced down, saw again how hard he was, and swallowed.

  A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes never lost their heat. "Come on in. The water's fine."

  "We need to talk."

  She thought she saw worry flicker in his eyes, but then he turned off the water. There was a white towel hanging on a rack beside her, and he reached for it, his arm coming within a few inches of her. She didn't move, and she could feel the heat rising off of him.

  He dried off, then wrapped the towel around his waist before he stepped past her. He continued into the living room, then sat on the edge of the sofa. The house was built on the crest of a hill, and the garage apartment was the highest point of the property. The living room boasted an east-facing picture window, and the couch sat in the middle of the room, so as to face the rising sun. She stood with her back to the window, so that Reece was the most beautiful thing in her view.

  "Tell me." His voice was unusually tight, and she realized with surprise that he was afraid she'd come to tell him that the whole thing was a mistake. She felt a twinge of guilt because that wasn't her purpose at all. But she didn't dispel his misunderstanding right away. Instead, she cherished it, the knowledge that he feared losing her as much as she feared losing him providing a concrete underpinning for the words that were to come.

  "Brent knows," she said. The announcement was only a preamble, but from his expression, she could tell that he thought that was her primary purpose.

  "I know," he said. "He called me last night."

  "He did?"

  "Told me it was between you and me, that he thought we were good together, and that if I hurt you, he'd rip my balls off and feed them to Gregor," he concluded, referring to Mrs. W's German Shepard.

  "Oh." She grinned, a fresh sense of relief washing over her with the knowledge that Brent had given his blessing to both of them. "That's great. But it wasn't what I came over to tell you."

  "No? Why did you come?"

  "To tell you that you're an ass."

  For a second, he just stared at her. Then he nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching as he fought not to laugh. "You're not the first one to say so."

  "I mean it. I saw the look on your face yesterday. All that talk of flower girls. You looked like you wanted to sprint across the park and find a bolt hole."

  "Did I?"

  She lifted a shoulder. "Maybe not quite that obvious, but I knew that you were watching me. Like I was a time bomb just waiting to spew rice and floral arrangements and embossed invitations."

  He leaned back, his legs spread just a bit, offering her a teasing view of the shadow beneath the towel and between his thighs. She cleared her throat and forced herself to look at his eyes. And nowhere else.

  "I don't have illusions," she said. "Hopes, maybe, but I know that marriage isn't on your radar. I know the man you are, Reece, and I know the way you look at the world. Probably better than anyone else. Most of all, I know that you love me. Hell, I even know that you like me."

  "Jenna..." He leaned forward, clearly about to stand up and come to her, but she held her hand out to stop him.

  "No. Let me finish. The thing is, I'm not looking for the world right now. I'm not an idiot. I know we're just starting this journey. All I want is to look into the future and see you standing beside me."

  "Baby, I've never been anywhere else."

  "I believe you. I guess I just want to know that's not going to change."

  "Come here," he said, beckoning to her. She walked to him, and he turned her around, then put his hands on her hips as she faced the window. "Do you see that? The morning light breaking through the trees? The vibrant colors? The promise of a new day?"

  She nodded, wordless.

  "That's how I feel about you. That connection between the light and the world, it's magical. And it's us, baby." He was still seated, and now he turned her around, then lifted her T-shirt and kissed her belly. "I love you. And I need you. And you can hold that in your heart right now as my vow to you for our future."

  I love you. He hadn't said the words before, and the way he spoke them now—without any fanfare, as if he'd said them dozens of times to her—made her heart swell, because that reinforced how deep the feeling went. How much their shared past played into a shared future.

  "I love you, too," she said. "And for right now, this is all I need, too."

  She saw a shadow flicker in his eye and wished she could take back the words. She'd thought that was what he'd meant when he talked about holding what they had in her heart, and that he was making a vow for their future. That it was his way of telling her that he hadn't dismissed the idea of marriage out o
f hand, even though it was scary and foreign to him.

  But seeing that flicker, she feared she was wrong. More important, she was afraid that after taking three steps forward together, she'd just yanked them both two steps back.

  She wished desperately that he felt differently, but she truly understood how ingrained his marriage phobia was. And, understanding, she could adjust. For now, anyway. Because surely as the relationship grew, his fear would dissipate and he'd want more.

  Wouldn't he?

  She stepped closer, then slipped out of her canvas flats. She kicked them away, then unbuttoned her jeans, watching his face as she wriggled out of them, pulling her panties off at the same time.

  "Jenna," he began, but she pressed a finger to his lips, then bent down to unfasten the towel from around his hip. She spread it open on the couch, exposing all of him, including his cock that was already with the program, despite the question in Reece's voice.

  Slowly, she straddled him, her hands on his shoulders as she moved her hips so that the tip of his erection teased her entrance. He understood the game and didn't say a word, but his low groan when she lowered herself and took him in held a world of meaning and the promise of a lifetime of shared passion. "Make me feel it," she whispered as they moved together. "That connection. The light and the earth."

  He didn't disappoint. They started slow, but his hands soon moved to her hips, and their rhythm increased, wild and frantic, like charged particles colliding with each other. Hotter and faster until the conclusion was inevitable and her body burst apart in an explosion of stars.

  "I love you," he said again as she clung to him tight. His voice was low, but the deep timbre of his voice rumbled through her, and she sighed, contented. She was happy. Safe. Loved.

  And there was no reason to believe that Reece would ever let her down.

  "So you two are dating now," Edie said, positively beaming, her foot in a boot to aid recovery of what turned out to be a nasty sprain.

  Jenna glanced at Reece, wondering if he was going to be casually vague about the change in their relationship. But his smile was broad, and he slipped his arm around her waist. "Hell, yes, we are. Did Brent tell you?" His stance shifted so he could face his father, who held up his hands in silent surrender.

  "Don't be silly," Edie said. "It's all over the both of you, and I think it's about time."

  "I'm in perfect agreement," Reece said, as he pulled out a chair for Jenna. Edie was already seated at the breakfast table, and she reached over to squeeze Jenna's hand. "Welcome to the family, sweetie," she said, and Jenna's heart twisted a little more. Edie and Charlie weren't married either, and after three marriages already, she sincerely doubted Charlie would propose. Or, if he did, that Edie would accept.

  "Can I get you a coffee, Edie?" Reece asked, as he put a cup in front of Jenna, who smiled up in surprised gratitude.

  "I've got it," Charlie said. "One sugar, one large dollop of heavy cream." He delivered the same to her, then kissed her on the cheek. "And I'll have your omelet ready just as soon as the toast pops up—oh, there we go." He spun around, back to the counter where two pieces of whole wheat toast had appeared in the gleaming stainless steel toaster.

  Edie shot him a warm look. "He's been doting on me all morning. All last night, too."

  "You deserve it," Charlie said. He looked at Jenna, and she saw the pain in his eyes. "I thought I'd lost her."

  "Fiddle-faddle," Edie announced. "I fell and ended up in the waiting room just to find out I have a sprained ankle. I'm not going anywhere. Not until I see how those turn out," she added, pointing to the kitchen cabinets that Reece was refinishing.

  He laughed. "In that case, I'll go as slow as I can."

  "Of course, I could say the same thing," Edie said, and everyone looked at her, confused. "About almost losing someone," she said by way of clarification. She pointed at Charlie. "Every day when you go outside and smoke one of those horrible cigarettes, you take a step further away from me. And don't even try to argue that you don't."

  "Good luck with that, Edie," Reece said. "I've been trying to get him to quit since I was a kid. So has pretty much everyone he's ever known across the state of Texas. No go."

  "A man needs his vices," Charlie said. "Now drop it, you two."

  Edie met Reece's eyes, but she just shook her head and said nothing else.

  "What are you two kids doing this morning?" Charlie asked, sliding breakfast in front of Edie and obviously hoping to finalize the change in subject.

  "I'm not scheduled at The Fix today," Reece said. "So I thought I might take Jenna to the Botanical Gardens. A long walk and then a coffee." He took her hand and squeezed. "A little romance in the morning. Who knows where it might lead in the afternoon?"

  "That sounds amazing," she said. "And unfortunately impossible. I told Brent I'd babysit all day," she added, in response to his questioning look. "I figured I could carve out some time on my laptop and work on all my projects for The Fix. And get my resume out there into the wild," she added, her mouth scrunching up with annoyance. She hated looking for a job, especially when the nibbles were few and far between.

  "I talked with Brent and Tyree about that at the park," Reece said. "We can't pay a lot, but it's ridiculous for you to be volunteering your time when the three of us are on payroll. We're all partners, after all."

  "Reece, no. We need the funds to finance—"

  "You need to eat. And we need a viable business, not one that's so tight that key jobs have to be handled by volunteers. Take the job, Jenna. Otherwise, we're going to hire someone else."

  She lifted a brow. "Like you said, I'm a partner, too. Don't I get to decide about hiring someone else?"

  "You are. And no. We're three-to-one, which means the men win. Like I said, crappy pay. But a job. And it's yours."

  She considered protesting a bit more for form, but the truth was that he was right. The job she was doing filled a position that needed to exist at The Fix anyway. And, from a more pragmatic point of view, she'd pretty much run out of money. It was either accept the job or dive into the lucrative world of bank robbery. Probably not a great option.

  "You're all idiots," she said. "But I accept."

  "Excellent. And my ulterior motive is that now you don't have to spend hours sending out resumes. We can do something today."

  "I told you. I'm watching Faith."

  "Something like the Austin Zoo."

  "Yeah?" She hadn't been to the local zoo in years, and the last time she went with Faith, the little girl had been in a stroller.

  "We see the animals, we ride the train, then we come home, curl up on the couch, and watch The Aristocats. And when Faith falls asleep, we turn off the television. Or we watch something with a different kind of romance..."

  "Ooooh," Edie said. "Sugar, you need to take the boy up on that."

  "Absolutely," Jenna said. "I'm no fool."

  The zoo was even more fun with a little girl who could travel under her own power, though Jenna had to admit she was exhausted keeping up with the kid, who ran from pen to pen trying to decide which of the zoo's rescued animals was the cutest.

  The ultimate verdict was a genet, an animal that Jenna had never heard of before, but had to admit was adorable with its catlike features. Since there was no stuffed genet in the store, however, Faith ended up going home with a stuffed lemur she named Cracker Jack, for reasons that weren't clear to either Jenna or Reece.

  "I'm exhausted," Jenna confessed as they snuggled on the couch, now comfortable in T-shirts and sweatpants, the little girl between them.

  "Welcome to parenthood," Reece said, and she laughed. But she couldn't help wondering if they'd ever be parents. And what would their child's name be if they didn't ever get married?

  The unwelcome thoughts pushed Jenna to her feet. "I'm going to make some coffee. Want one?"

  He gave her a thumbs-up, then relented to Faith's orders to sing along.

  With the two of them belting out Everybody Wants
To Be A Cat, she disappeared into the kitchen and started measuring grounds into the filter basket.

  She'd just pushed the button to start the coffee maker when her phone rang, and she pulled it out of her back pocket, then hurried to answer when she saw the Caller ID.

  "Mom!"

  "Hi, sweetie."

  "Are you in town?" Her mom had mentioned possibly coming back to Texas with Doug, her husband, in the spring for a romantic weekend in the Hill Country.

  "Not until summer," she said. "Doug's work schedule is a mess. But I'll give you plenty of notice. We're both looking forward to seeing you. I miss my baby girl."

  "Is that why you called?"

  "Isn't that reason enough?"

  "Of course," Jenna said, laughing.

  "Well, I do miss you. But I want to hear how the trip home from California went. And what's this about The Fix?"

  Jenna had left a brief message on her mom's voicemail right after the guys had proposed the partnership arrangement. Now, she explained in more detail.

  "I think that's wonderful," her mom said. "I don't know what I could do from Florida, but if you need help, all you have to do is holler."

  "I know," Jenna said. Her mom had always been mother and father to her. And, in many ways, her best girlfriend, too. "How's Doug?"

  "So wonderful." Her mom didn't need to say anymore. The depth of feeling was evident in her tone.

  "Was it worth the wait?" Jenna asked. "To get married, I mean."

  "Well, I didn't know Doug before, so it's a moot question. And your dad was a nice guy, but he wasn't my guy, so it would have been a mistake to marry him." Even if that was a possibility, her tone seemed to suggest. "But if I'd met Doug back then, but not married him until now...well, that would be sad, wouldn't it?"

  "Yeah," Jenna agreed as an invisible fist grabbed her heart. "It would."

  "Why the deep questions?"

  "Oh, nothing. Seen any good movies lately?" Her mom loved film and saw most movies on opening day. So it seemed like a good way to change the conversation.

  She was right, and they continued to talk for another half hour before Jenna remembered the coffee and they said their goodbyes.