Perhaps his experience with Diana had scarred him more than he realized. And that saddened him.
Jake took a slow, deep breath and tried to gather his thoughts. He dared a glance at Rebecca, his eyes full of sympathy and sorrow. Of all the things he’d expected her to say, this certainly was not one of them.
“Rebecca.” He held on to her hand when she would have pulled away, withdrawn from him again. “I guess at times I can be an insensitive oaf.” There was genuine regret in his voice. “I had no idea…it never occurred to me that…” Helplessly, his voice trailed off, and he sighed heavily. “I feel like a fool and I apologize for prying into your personal life. It never occurred to me that it could be something this traumatic that brought you here.”
“No, Jake, you thought I came merely to dig up and dish out the dirt on your family, right?”
The sadness in her voice only increased his discomfort. “Guilty as charged.”
“Well, at least you have the good grace to admit it.” That was something, she thought, realizing that in spite of the circumstances, Jake Ryan was clearly a very honorable man.
“I am sorry about your mother and about being so insensitive.” He wasn’t thrown off base very often, but he was now, and he didn’t quite know how to handle it.
“It’s all right, Jake,” she said quietly, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “There was no way you could have known.”
“I’m sorry for prying, as well.” Here he’d spent most of the day and most of the evening thinking she had sinister motives, when in fact what she was doing here was completely honorable and personal and had nothing to do with exploiting his family or their history. “Did your mom live in Saddle Falls?” he asked with a frown, wondering if he would have known her.
Rebecca suddenly felt as if she needed air and lots of it. She never discussed her mother. Never.
Talking about her now, or even thinking about her mother’s time in Saddle Falls and what had happened while she had lived here, made Rebecca unbearably tense. She could feel the shock, the fear trembling along her nerve endings the way it always did whenever she even thought of her mom.
And what she might have done.
Absently, Rebecca rubbed her temple and closed her eyes for a moment, realizing the headache she’d had last night was now back with a vengeance.
“Hey, you okay?” Jake asked. He touched her cheek, feeling even worse at the look of sadness that swept over her face.
Forcing her eyes open, she smiled at him, willing the throbbing in her temple to ease. “Fine.” Rebecca shook her head, pushing her hair off her face. “I’m fine, really. Now, to answer your question, Jake, I don’t know if my mother lived here or where she lived.” Carelessly, she gave a shrug of her shoulders, as if this was of no importance to her. Talking about her mother with Jake could be very dangerous, and she wanted to answer him without seeming evasive, and yet not reveal anything that could jeopardize her position. “I hadn’t seen her in many years.”
He held up his hand, wanting to stop her. This was clearly very painful for her. No wonder she wore that haunted look. He didn’t need her to drag out her family laundry. He merely was trying to protect his own.
“Never mind. I understand this is very personal and I don’t make a habit of being nosy.” Still holding her hand, he let out a sigh. “I remember when my parents were killed. How hard it was, what a shock it was.”
Mentally, she shifted gears, forgot her own personal past and focused on his, mentally reviewing the research notes she’d studied this afternoon. “Ten years ago, right?”
“Yeah,” he said softly, in a voice that echoed with pain. It was her turn to give his hand a comforting squeeze. “In a plane crash.” He stared out into the darkness. “I was only twenty-two at the time, Jared was twenty and Josh only eighteen. He’d just graduated from high school the week before. My parents had gone to a cattle auction down in Texas. An old college buddy of my dad’s was with them.” He shut his eyes and he tried to block the memory of how painful that time had been. “It was a total shock. They’d only been gone two days and were on their way home when they got caught in a freak spring storm. The plane was struck by lightning, lost all hydraulics, cabin pressure and power. Investigators said they were probably dead before the aircraft hit the ground. Which was a blessing and some comfort, under the circumstances.” With a sigh, he scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “We were much too young to lose our parents. And Tommy…” Jake’s voice trailed off again, and he reached for his beer with his free hand, taking a long sip. “My dad was Tommy’s only child.” Jake shook his head. “It was horrendous for him, another devastating loss, but he never let us see him cry, never let us see his sorrow. He was strong for us, made sure we all knew that we were family, we were the Ryans, nothing could beat us. Nothing.” Jake turned to her. “Tommy held us together then, and during those very dark days afterward, and in some ways he’s still holding us together now.”
“I’m sorry, Jake. I know how difficult that must have been for you, for all of you. First to lose Jesse, then your parents.” Sympathy on a professional level was something she felt much more comfortable with; it went with the territory.
“What’s always haunted me is that my parents died without ever knowing what happened to Jesse.” His smile was wan. “He was their youngest, their baby, and it was devastating for them when Jesse disappeared. Especially my mom,” he added quietly. He smiled suddenly, lost in memories. “She was fabulous, Slick, just fabulous. Small, but fierce and mighty. She was the boss, but my dad absolutely adored her and us. Jesse’s disappearance was not something they ever got over.” Stunned by the depth of the emotions merely talking about his parents and Jesse brought forth, Jake found himself swallowing hard.
It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself to think about his brother or his parents, let alone talk about them, perhaps because their loss had left a gaping, painful hole inside of him, a hole that was too painful to face.
And in the case of Jesse, there was also the guilt. Guilt like a heavy hand lying on his shoulder. A reminder of a time when he hadn’t protected his family. He’d gone off with his brothers to an overnight at a friend’s house. At five, Jesse was too young to go with them so they’d left him behind crying, begging to come along. Jake remembered turning back and waving as Jesse sobbed. It was the last time he saw his baby brother. He never forgave himself for not taking Jesse that night.
“That’s understandable,” she said, glancing into the distance, finding it too disconcerting to look at his beautiful face, especially when his eyes were so filled with pain. Instead, she mentally shifted gears, wanting to distract him somehow from his loss. It wasn’t much, but it was the only way she knew how to comfort.
“You were very fortunate, Jake. Do you know that?”
“Fortunate?” He turned to her with a frown, wondering how on earth she thought his family could have been fortunate. “How?”
“Because you had Tommy, your parents, your brothers. A family.” Rebecca swallowed hard, then continued. “I never had any family,” she said quietly, stunning him. “I grew up in an orphanage.”
The sadness in her voice struck a chord in his heart and he looked at her curiously, not sure he understood. “But you had a mother—”
“Who abandoned me when I was just a little girl.” She shrugged, not realizing that the pain in her eyes had deepened. “Not exactly Mother of the Year material,” she said with a small, wan smile that tore at his heart. “Not at all how your mother sounded. I never really knew her, Jake. I spent almost my entire life in an orphanage, not belonging to anyone.” She tried to keep her smile intact, but her face felt like glass and her eyes flickered nervously. “So I understand your dedication, your love toward your family.” Glancing into the darkness, she shrugged, unable to look at him. “I understand how much they mean to you and why you want to protect them so much.” She understood it, admired it and him. He was an incredibly wonderful, honorable man.
And a lucky one.
The sense of betrayal she’d always felt was hovering just below the surface. Desperately, she tried to bank it, ignore it.
“A family…well, it’s not something I ever had, and I guess I envy the fact that you had a home, a family, two parents who loved you and brothers who cared about you, not to mention a wonderful grandfather to keep everything and everyone together.”
She’d never openly acknowledged the loss she’d felt. Perhaps because doing so made it seem all too real. If she didn’t acknowledge it, she could ignore it.
“Knowing you belonged somewhere, to someone, is a blessing in itself.” She glanced away, aware that he was stroking her hand, making her pulse pound and her heart thud. Swallowing hard, and determined to ignore his touch, she turned back to him.
“Yes, you’ve had hardships, Jake. Most families do. But you also had the knowledge and comfort of that family to love and guide you and see you through all those hard times.” She cocked her head. “I’d say you were very, very lucky indeed.”
Envy was not something she ever allowed herself to feel. Like most emotions, it was useless and served no purpose. Nor was it a particularly attractive trait. She’d tried never to be envious of anyone in her life, but being here with Jake, hearing him talk about his family, actually staying in the place that had served as her only home, was making her feel an envy like she never had before, and a longing for what could have been. Should have been.
And it shamed her, wanting and needing all the things she’d never had.
“Oh Slick, you’re so right, you know that?” He gazed at her, unable to imagine how horrendous it would have been to have grown up without his brothers, his grandfather, his parents. His family.
The sadness in her voice almost broke his heart. It also humbled him. He had no idea what he would have done, who he would have been, without his family. They were his anchor, his stability throughout all of life’s storms.
Who had Rebecca turned to when she was growing up, when lost and afraid? Lonely or scared? Who’d taken care of her, protected her when she was ill, or when the world seemed to be turning its back on her?
No one.
The answer echoed hollowly in his ears, making his insides churn with a feeling of powerlessness he’d never felt before.
Now he understood what had put that haunting sadness in her eyes, and it made his arms ache to hold her until the pain was gone, to protect her from the world. To keep her from ever being hurt again.
“Thank you, Rebecca.”
She frowned. “For what?”
He smiled. “For making me see how fortunate I’ve been. For so long I’ve concentrated on the hardships, the tragedies that have befallen the Ryans that I’ve forgotten to be grateful for what I had. I’ve been mourning what we didn’t have, instead of appreciating what we did have.”
He felt gratified by her confession, grateful she trusted him enough to confide in him about her personal life. He had a feeling she didn’t do either often, and he felt honored that she’d given him her trust.
Which was more than he’d given her, he thought with deep regret.
He glanced at her, realizing that for some reason he did trust her.
It should have scared the hell out of him and sent him running in the opposite direction. But it didn’t.
Something stronger was pulling him toward her like an invisible thread he couldn’t seem to break.
Watching her, he wasn’t certain he even wanted to any longer.
“Slick.” Still holding her hand, he tugged her closer and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his warmth. He needed to hold her right now, though he wasn’t certain if it was for his sake or hers.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he whispered, kissing the top of her silky head. They both knew he was talking about more than the loss of her mother, rather, about all the losses she’d endured. “Thank you for making me see and appreciate what I have and have had all my life. Sometimes seeing things through someone else’s eyes makes you see what you have in a new light.”
“Jake.” The moment he’d pulled her into his arms that ache of desire, of need had started again, frightening her. She didn’t want his sympathy or his soothing. The last thing in the world she wanted was for anyone to feel sorry for her. The idea was simply repugnant.
“Relax, Slick.” He nestled her closer, laying his head atop hers. “Just relax for a minute. I promise not to bite.” That was about all he could promise right now with her so close, her gentle curves pressed so seductively against him. Even in her baggy, too-big sweatshirt he could feel the delicate feminine curve of her breasts pressed against his chest. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her unbound breasts, free and full, felt like heaven against him, making him ache to touch them, taste them.
“Jake.” Lifting a hand to his chest, she tried to hold him at bay. “I’m sorry, but you know we can’t do this.” She couldn’t do this. She wouldn’t. She had to remain professional, to protect herself and her story. No matter what.
But it felt so wonderful to be back in his arms again. A desperate need struggled to be free, yet Rebecca steadfastly, deliberately held it in.
“Yeah, I know,” he murmured, trailing his lips across her forehead, down her cheek to the very corner of her mouth, where he nibbled seductively. “It’s unethical, right?”
“R-right.” Something seemed to have stolen her breath and made her pulse spike and her nipples ache. “Jake.” She glanced up at him, her gaze soft and dreamy. Her lips were slightly parted, and he couldn’t resist. He brought his mouth down on hers, feeling something akin to a lock clicking into place. It was so loud, so distinctive, he was surprised she hadn’t heard it.
“No, Jake, we…can’t.” Her protest was halfhearted. Valiantly, she fought back the need, the desire, the unbearable urge to be held and touched by him. But she couldn’t help it; she turned her head toward him, lifted a hand to the back of his head to bring his mouth down more firmly on hers.
Hunger attacked and desire rose quickly, igniting the smoldering flame that had burst to life the first moment he’d touched her, kissed her.
As his mouth took hers possessively, passionately, his groan matched hers, and she greedily slid her fingers through his silky black hair, holding him close, wanting, needing more of this wonderful magic that happened every time he touched her.
She clung to him, allowing herself the pleasure of his kiss. Never had she imagined that the touch of another human being could be so exquisite, so wonderful, make her feel so complete.
Normal.
The word echoed in her mind. This wonderful torrent of feelings, of emotions must be what normal people felt, allowed themselves to experience.
She’d always known she’d been different, but in Jake’s arms, she felt like a normal woman.
She felt wanted.
For the first time in her life she actually felt wanted. Jake made her feel that, had given her that. A gift, she thought hazily. A rare and precious gift. The mere knowledge of being wanted.
Her past slid away, and the only thing that mattered was the man in her arms and the feelings his touch evoked. For one brief moment, she decided to give herself the pleasure, to indulge herself with things that other women took for granted. Things she’d never had.
When Jake’s hand slid under her sweatshirt to caress the bare skin of her back, she sighed deeply, arching against him, wanting only to ease the unbearable ache in her hardened nipples.
He took the kiss deeper, leading them into the murky darkness of need and desire, where promises fled and passion ignited.
When his tongue touched hers she felt as if everything inside her melted, turning to a seething liquid that poured slowly through her veins, drugging her with feelings she’d had no idea existed.
It was like being dragged under a wave, she decided hazily, a deep, dark murky wave. Not quite knowing what was coming next, but enjoying it all the same.
Giving in
to the sensations pummeling her body, her mind, her heart, Rebecca forgot for a moment that she was playing with fire, and allowed Jake to lead her on this sensuous journey.
His hand continued to stroke her bare back, sliding up and down in a gentle, caressing motion that only made the ache inside her grow.
“Oh Rebecca,” he whispered with a groan, drawing back to brush his mouth sensuously over hers. As he tenderly swept her hair from her face, she saw her own desire reflected in his eyes, and reality set in.
“Jake.” Stunned and embarrassed by her actions, her response to him and the serious lapse she’d allowed, Rebecca shook her head. “I’m sorry, this shouldn’t have happened.” Meeting his gaze, she read the protest in his eyes, and pressed her fingers to his lips before he could voice it. “No, Jake,” she whispered. “This can’t happen.” Firmly, she shook her head. “This is for the best. I’m sorry if I’ve led you to believe otherwise.” She scooted away from him, wanting only to put some distance between them so she could get her bearings again.
“Rebecca, there’s no point fighting what’s between us. You can deny it all you want, but it’s not going to go away.” He couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt that she could so easily dismiss what was so powerful between them.
Didn’t she realize this didn’t happen very often? What was between them was special—magical. He recognized it, so why couldn’t she?
“Jake, I’m sorry.” She stood, smoothed her sweatshirt down and shivered. Not from the cold, but from the lack of his touch. “This is not open for discussion.” She met his gaze, praying her voice was firm, strong. “There’s nothing between us. There can’t be, and there’s no point in pretending otherwise.”
“You’re wrong,” he said firmly, standing up and taking a step closer to her. He stopped when she took a step in retreat. Fearing he’d frighten her, he stayed where he was, but his arms ached to hold her.
“It’s getting late, Jake.” She glanced at him, aware that he had touched her in a way no one had before, and not just physically. She would simply ignore all the feelings he’d aroused. She had no choice; anything else would jeopardize all she’d committed herself to— especially this story, and her own personal satisfaction in getting to the truth. “I think you’d better leave.” Lifting her chin, she tried to make her voice stern, clear, but she was still trembling inside.
With Family In Mind (Saddle Falls Book 1) Page 12