Always You: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (ABCs of Love Collection Books 5-8)

by Brenna Jacobs

  He made a noise in his throat, something that must have sounded like swallowed rage, because it was, and it drew her notice.

  “I know,” she said. “I knew it then. I knew that what I felt wasn’t fair or right, so I’d try to make up for it by earning as much money as I could so she could have what she wanted. New clothes, stuff like that. I never cared about that stuff, but she did, so I made sure she had cute shirts and makeup and a full fridge, even if we were always on a coupons-at-Walmart budget. We got food stamps. That helped.” She looked at him over Calvin’s head, defiant. “I hated being on welfare, but it saved us. More than once.”

  “You’re talking to a guy who was raised by bleeding heart parents. I’m glad you got the help you needed. Nothing wrong with food stamps if your mom wasn’t feeding you.”

  “My mom didn’t do anything but come home drunk, sometimes with a guy we never saw again, or scream at me to give her my tips so she could go out, because we were ‘hard,’ and she needed a break. I’d give her a twenty sometimes to buy us a night off from her. But most nights we just fought about where I was hiding my cash.” She stroked Calvin’s barely-there hair, even brushing her cheek against it once. Ethan wondered if she even realized she was doing it. “I hid it the one place she wouldn’t think to look: in a bank. And I made good money. More than my mom ever did. I worked as a server at an upscale steakhouse near the golf course. Had to ride my bike ten miles each way to get there.”

  “You’re amazing.” He didn’t know what else to say because there was no other way to describe her younger self.

  She shot him a sharp look. “I’m not. I was angry and impatient and bitter. So bitter.”

  Calvin made a restless sound, and Ethan rose and went straight to the formula on the counter. “Will he eat?” he asked, even as he unscrewed the cap from a bottle and began measuring the water.

  “Maybe. It’s almost 8:00. He might take a bottle and go to sleep.”

  When Ethan had the bottle ready, he crossed to Tessa and crouched beside her. “I can feed him.”

  She shook her head.

  “Tessa,” he said, keeping his voice gentle. Now that he had more of her story, he had a feeling he understood her resistance better. “You didn’t fail Rachel then, and you don’t have to make it up to Calvin now. You’re not a bad person if you let someone else step in and help.”

  She hesitated, then let him take Calvin. He settled onto the couch with the baby at a comfortable angle for his arm, and Calvin went to work on the bottle immediately. “Where is your mom in all of this?”

  “She died four years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She just shrugged and it was the saddest thing he’d ever seen. “Do you want to tell me more?”

  “Want to?” She scooted back to lean against the wall across from him, her head tilted back, eyes closed. “No. But it feels like it all wants to spill out anyway. Why haven’t you told me how to fix any of this yet?”

  It was such a validation of his mom’s guess about Tessa needing someone to listen, not fix, that he vowed to send Lezlie Bedford the biggest, most expensive box of Swiss chocolate he could find for Christmas.

  But aloud, all he said was, “I’m just sitting here feeling grateful you’re willing to trust me with your story, and I want to hear more of it, if you’re okay with telling me.”

  She didn’t open her eyes, just sighed and picked up the thread of her story. “So the job at the steakhouse. I got that job during college. It was the first job to ever pay me well, and it’s where I met my first boyfriend, which will also explain why I got kind of weird with you in college. And yesterday morning.”

  “Now I’m even more interested,” he teased.

  She did open her eyes for a second to flash him a smile, but then she closed them again. “I can’t look at you while I tell you more about how I was an idiot. Maybe still am one. All that plus a boring story about my first heartbreak. The pizza’s just a bonus.”

  “I didn’t come for the pizza,” he said. “Quit worrying about me. I promise if I’m bored, I’ll plop Calvin in your lap and walk out.”

  “Fine. My first heartbreak was also indirectly linked to Rachel. First, you kind of have to understand that I didn’t date in high school. I was not always the snack you see before you.” She gestured down the length of her, like there was a problem with her T-shirt advertising a famous burger chain, or the makeup smudges under her eyes.

  He didn’t know what she meant by “snack,” but she looked like a feast, and he was glad her eyes were still closed so she couldn’t see him redden for even thinking something that corny.

  “I met Dylan there—” Ethan had a visceral flash of jealousy—“and we got along really well. He was a sophomore at the nearby state university, and he was struggling with his earth science class. I offered to help him figure out a lab after our shift one night, then I tutored him for a test, and then studying turned into dating, which, like I said, was a whole new experience for me. Between being invisible to the guys at school and too busy between my honors classes and cashiering at a local truck stop five days a week, I somehow never managed to fit in a social life.

  “Dylan was cute, and I thought he was into me. He’d corner me in the stock room for make-outs or text me constantly when we weren’t working the same shift. He’d acted so interested in everything I said . . . I don’t know. I hadn’t even really had any close friends after my best friend moved to Texas in seventh grade. And Dylan would always listen to me talk about how hard Rachel was, because Rachel was being extra hard right then. Ditching classes, acting erratic, stumbling in during the wee hours of the morning. Once she even disappeared for a whole weekend. Dylan would listen and tell me that Rachel was an idiot, and I was doing great. I wasn’t, but it was nice to hear someone say it because it’s not like my mom was around to handle her.”

  Calvin gave a small fuss, and Ethan realized that he’d pretty much forgotten he was even feeding the kid who had spit out the empty nipple and was now annoyed that it was bumping his face. Ethan set the bottle down and shifted the baby over his shoulder for burping.

  “Rachel was halfway through her senior year, but she said she was over it. I begged her to reconsider. But she ignored me, passed the GED instead, and left a note behind saying she was heading to Nashville to start her singing career, which was odd, because she only sang okay. I finished out my semester, but when it was obvious Rachel wasn’t coming back, I transferred to Georgia Tech the next term, and they still offered me a scholarship, so I’ve put my head down and run straight at my goals ever since.”

  “I have thoughts. But mostly missing connections. Like what happened to Dylan?” And what did it have to do with her confusing signals during college? But he definitely wasn’t going to ask that out loud.

  “Dylan. Right,” she said, finally looking at him again. “As soon as his semester ended, and he passed with a B, he decided that all my stuff with Rachel was too hard, I only talked about her and school, and he wasn’t looking for a serious relationship with that kind of baggage. So he dumped me and ignored me every time we worked a shift together, and I couldn’t quit because the money was too good.”

  He was beginning to suspect how this all related to him and college now. “Did you deal with that a lot when you got to Georgia? Did a lot of guys try to coast on your work for their grades?” He had a feeling that wasn’t the problem; it was the part about dealing with her hard stuff, but Tessa wasn’t forthcoming at the best of times, and he didn’t want to push her too far by asking straight out.

  “No. Dylan was a hard lesson, and one I won’t forget. I wouldn’t have given any of them a chance to do that. But all the guys in our program were smart enough to earn their own grades, so that wasn’t much of an issue. I just vowed I wouldn’t give anyone else a chance to fail me in my life outside the lab. The first year it was easy. Then you and I started hanging out.”

  She quit talking and picked up a fork, examining it so long tha
t he realized she wasn’t going to say anything else.

  “I’d like to hear the rest of that thought,” he said. Calvin burped in agreement. “I thought we had chemistry in college. Was I wrong?”

  “Obviously,” she said, and the answer startled him. “We had engineering together, not chemistry, dummy.”

  “Tessa. That cuts really deep.”

  “Because you didn’t think of the joke first?”

  “Yes,” he said grinning at her.

  “It was pretty good.” She gave him a very self-satisfied smile.

  “Was I wrong though? About us having a connection in college? Please don’t make a bad electrical engineering pun.”

  “No, you were right. I think I was even more into you than Dylan.”

  “Dylan was into me?”

  She laughed, which had been his goal. He wanted to keep the mood light enough for her to feel comfortable to keep talking. “Dylan who?” Then she sighed. “Maybe if I’d been able to forget him then, I wouldn’t have gotten so squirrelly with you. But every time I started to feel comfortable with you, I would just remember him bailing, and how dumb I felt. And worse, how I felt even more alone than I had before he’d acted like my boyfriend. To be honest, I haven’t been great at relationships since.”

  “It’s good to know it wasn’t my imagination.” It was true. Tessa had confused him so much back then that he’d begun to wonder if everything he’d learned from his sister-in-law was wrong. In hindsight it was also easy to see why he’d fallen for Sarah so easily. She’d come along when he was in the trough of self-doubt, and her signals had been clear and easy to read, so he’d gone with the path of least resistance.

  “Definitely wasn’t your imagination,” Tessa said. “I’ve always wondered what would have happened if I hadn’t turned chicken, and I guess not enough sleep makes me as stupid as too much wine, so I decided to maul you on my sofa.”

  “That didn’t feel like a mauling.” He sensed she was trying to keep the tone light, but it didn’t sit right with him to have her dismiss that kiss so flippantly. It had tasted of possibility and second chances. “I could get used to it. Easily.”

  She flickered a look toward him and looked away again. “No, you can’t. You’re leaving. I don’t think I’m built to do casual relationships. If you were sticking around . . .”

  “You’d make sure to never come over and build my furniture or eat meals with me?”

  “Probably not. I’ve made a habit of avoiding that kind of thing.”

  “What, friendships?”

  “Friendships with people I want to kiss.”

  The answer shot straight through his gut, making him aware of how much he wanted to kiss her too. “I didn’t mind. I wouldn’t mind.” He let the clear implication dawn on her, and she began to blink rapidly as his meaning sunk in.

  “Bad idea.”

  “Counterpoint: excellent idea.”

  “You’re leaving in three weeks. What’s the point?”

  “You have to pick a lane, Tessa. Because it seems like you’re saying you wouldn’t have anything to do with me if I was staying, so shouldn’t that mean that you’re fine with something happening between us because I’m leaving?”

  “I . . .” She stopped and scowled at him. “Don’t try to confuse me.”

  “I’m teasing a little but not trying to confuse you, I promise.”

  “It sounds like you’re basically asking for a fling.”

  He jerked his head back in surprise. “No, I’m not. I’m not a fling kind of guy.”

  “Then what do you call it when two people decide to get involved for three weeks knowing it’s going to end?”

  “Fun?” But he smiled to let her know he was teasing again. “I guess that didn’t really sound great, did it? I’m not a fling kind of guy,” he repeated. It was so important to him for her to understand this that he added, “But I’m your friend, Tessa. By the time you beat me putting that chair together on Monday night, it was like we’d never left college. Everything felt as easy with you as it always did. Until, you know, you made it weird back then.”

  She finally met his eyes and smiled. “And made it weird again yesterday morning.”

  “Maybe it’s only weird if we let it be weird.” He leaned toward the coffee table and drew an imaginary line down the center with his finger. “Line in the sand. We’re friends. I’ll do everything I can to help you with Calvin and Helios until I have to go. This should all work out fine if we set a boundary, right?”

  She rose to her knees and shuffled on them over to the other side of the coffee table, inspecting the invisible line. “I guess? I’m obviously going to have to call you in to help me with something baby-related every two hours because I’m clueless, so maybe I should just admit that and believe you when you say you’re fine with it.”

  “Very fine with it.”

  She stared at the coffee table for a few more moments before nodding. “Okay. I’d like that.”

  “One question, though.” He used the side of his fist like he was erasing a whiteboard full of equations and scrubbed it along their invisible line. “I used to imagine what it would be like all the time to kiss you back in college. You know, make the first move. Can I do that once before the line goes up?”

  “You want to kiss me?” Her voice had gone soft, and her eyes fell to his lips.

  He nodded once, afraid of how much his voice would give away if he spoke, and kept his eyes on her face, looking for her answer.

  She braced her hands on the coffee table, and leaned toward him slightly, her eyes falling half-closed in the hungry look her nephew so often wore, but as he leaned forward to meet her, to explore the softness and heat of her mouth again, to test whether her kiss could shut down everything but his nerve-endings the way she had the morning before, Calvin gave a small, sleepy grunt. Tessa blinked and straightened. Ethan stayed where he was, hoping she’d come back.

  Instead, she gave a short shake of her head. “That was the best bad idea you’ve ever had,” she said, her voice slightly husky. “But I really need this.” And she re-drew the imaginary line between them.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tessa staggered into work. It wasn’t the weight of the carrier that was the problem; it was the weight of her own exhaustion. Calvin had had a rough night again and she was missing about three hours of sleep she really needed.

  When the elevator doors slid open, Sanjay was standing right in front of them, so close that she took a step back in surprise.

  “Hi, Sanjay.”

  “Hi. Can I wear the baby?”

  “Yeah, sure. Let me get situated.” He took the diaper bag from her and she smiled at Ethan as Sanjay followed her to Baby Quad where she freed Calvin from the carrier. Sanjay had already set down the diaper bag and now stood waiting with Darius’s blanket sling.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Mary grumbled. “He was making me anxious, pacing back and forth in front of the elevator like that.

  Sanjay ignored her. “I’ll wear him on my back today. If you hold him in place, I know the wrap.”

  She heard Darius give what sounded like a pretty irritated snort, but she settled Calvin into place and Sanjay quickly and efficiently looped and secured the blankets. He turned to face Tessa, Calvin peering curiously at her over Sanjay’s shoulder. “Now you go work.”

  “Okay.” She turned and started for her desk, then stopped and turned back. “Are you taking him because you want me to work or because you want to hang out with him?”

  “Go work,” Sanjay repeated, and he headed for one of the workbenches without glancing her way again.

  When she slid into her own chair, Ethan held his hand out. “Keys, please. I’ll get the other stuff.”

  She handed them over without complaint. He returned with the swing and bassinet and took his seat again.

  “Rough night?” he asked when she tried to thank him but yawned instead.

  “He did one of those long crying things in the mi
ddle of the night. Nothing worked so I took him for a walk, but he still wouldn’t settle down, so then I drove with him because I didn’t want to wake the neighbors up. It took about a half-hour, but then he fell asleep. Brought him home, and he woke up as soon as I got to the top of the stairs. Went driving again and that finally worked after an hour—” she paused for a big yawn “—and he stayed asleep but then he woke up an hour early.”

  “You could have called me.”

  “I know.” And she did. It felt good to know it. “But I was okay since I got enough sleep on Thursday night. If he does it again tonight, I’m definitely calling you.”

  A surprised look crossed Ethan’s face, and he glanced down at his watch. “It’s Saturday.”

  “I think so.”

  “No, it definitely is.”

  She shrugged and reached for her mouse. “Okay.”

  “Everybody’s here.”

  “Why do you sound so surprised? We get overtime.”

  “Is that why you all do it?”

  She studied him. “You didn’t even know you’d get overtime and you’re here. What’s your reason?”

  “I’m a little obsessed.” After a slight pause, he added, “With the project.”

  “Us too. We’re on the verge of talking BBMJ into a billion-dollar investment. We can’t screw it up.”

  “Same,” he said.

  “Guess we better get back to work,” she said, turning to her monitor. The lab settled down to its usual quiet hum broken by little baby grunts and much larger yawns from her.

  Finally, midmorning, after another jaw-cracking yawn, Ethan shook his head. “I’m going to get you a cup of coffee. You’re making me yawn, and I slept enough last night.”

  “You don’t have to—” But she broke off at the level, patient look on his face. This is what friends did, she supposed. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  He disappeared into the breakroom. Tessa stared after him, then back at her screen, where the numbers and lines swam a little. She tried to blink the sleepiness away, but it wasn’t helping much. She was extra grateful he’d gone to fetch her coffee, she decided. She could get used to a friend like that.