The Christmas He Loved Her
Page 7
He left the kitchen and lingered in the family room, his gaze settling on the bag he’d brought back from Texas. It was still where he’d left it on the coffee table, and from what he could tell, Raine hadn’t poked around inside it.
His fingers ran over the worn leather and he lifted it off the table. There was some weight to it, and though he’d wondered what Jesse had stowed inside, he’d never opened the damn thing—for the simple fact that it wasn’t his to open.
For several long seconds he stared down at the bag, and then his gaze drifted to the window, out into the starless, cold night. The security light that sat near the edge of the forest was on, its stark circle of illumination sparkling among the snowflakes. Huge, fluffy flakes drifted toward the earth in a lazy dance until they fell to the ground.
By morning the grass would be covered with a blanket of the cold, frozen stuff. Winter had finally arrived, it seemed.
He eyed the sofa and then glanced down the hall toward the front door. Indecision ate at him, but before he could analyze things any more, Jake sank onto the sofa and dropped his brother’s bag onto the floor beside it. There was no point in heading back to his parents’. He wouldn’t sleep anyway. Better to hang here in case Raine needed him.
It seemed as if some decisions came easier than others.
His eyes drifted back to the snowflakes and he stretched out his long legs. There was a time when the first snowfall was like a gift from the gods. It meant snowmobiling through the brush with his brother and their buddies, Cain and Mac. It meant nights of bonfires, beer, and girls. Reckless stunts, racing across frozen lakes, and skiing by firelight.
He’d been invincible then. All of them had. Untouched by tragedy, with the innocent mind-set of youth. Never in a million years had he ever thought Jesse would be dead at the age of thirty.
His gaze moved from the snow up to the ceiling as the emptiness inside him, ate through the cold shell of his heart. Call it what you will—a twin thing, a sibling thing—the moment Jesse had passed, Jake had been cut open, and he’d been bleeding ever since. He didn’t think it would ever stop.
God, he was so tired, but sleep was a monster that left him utterly wrecked. The nightmares, the cold sweats…the rage…they were his constant companions these days. No matter that outside a white wonderland was slowly shaping up, deep in his heart and mind there was only bleak, never-ending darkness. There was desert and sand, heat and death.
Jake tried to relax, hell, he even closed his eyes, but his thoughts kept him awake long after the clock circled around again. And again. And again.
He thought of those snowy nights from his past. They were a lifetime ago, and contrary to what some people thought, there was no going back.
Chapter 7
Winter came with an arctic blast as it had a habit of doing this time of the year in northern Michigan. One day, the smell of fall was still in the air and the next, winter’s kiss claimed the terrain. The snow had fallen steadily through the night, and when Jake finally rolled off the sofa, more than a little stiff and cranky, there were nearly four inches of the white stuff outside.
He’d dozed off and on but hadn’t succumbed to sleep. He couldn’t do it. Not here, with Raine. No one would hear how pathetic he sounded when ripped from sleep by the darkness inside him.
Especially not her. His pain would lead to questions never asked, to answers never given, and he didn’t know if he was strong enough to deal with that right now.
Jake stretched, rolled his neck and shoulders, and went in search of coffee. Considering the meager offerings he’d seen the night before, he wasn’t expecting anything but was pleasantly surprised to discover that though Raine hadn’t much use for food, apparently caffeine was still on the menu. And even though he was more of a cream kind of guy, there was two percent milk in the fridge with a sell-by date he could live with.
It was just after five in the morning, and while he waited for the coffee to brew, he filled a tall glass with water and rummaged through the cupboards until he found some painkillers.
Raine was still asleep and pretty much in the same position he’d left her in, though he couldn’t see her face from the mess of wild curls across it.
Jake placed the water on the table beside her bed and made sure it was in reach, along with two shiny, extra-strength red tablets. He paused for a moment, his chest constricting as he gazed at her, and gently moved the tangles from her face. Her nose twitched and she groaned softly, her legs moving as she burrowed deeper into the mattress.
He froze as her eyes fluttered open, dream filled and sleepy. For one second, a smile lifted the corners of her mouth and something inside him lightened. But then shadows fell into her eyes as memory returned, and the smile disappeared.
“Hey,” she murmured.
“Hey, yourself.”
“You stayed.” Her voice was hoarse, and a wince accompanied her words.
“Yeah.”
“Oh God,” she groaned once more. “My head hurts.”
“I expected it would. Take the pills, they’ll help.” He straightened and moved away, annoyed that her vulnerability was enhanced tenfold by the sweet remnants of the sandman.
“Jake?”
He paused at the door and waited, but after several long moments realized that she was out cold once more. He closed the door, grabbed a coffee, and left Raine deep in dreamland, hopefully with more than enough painkillers for the hangover that was about to pay her a visit.
***
“You look like shit, Jake.”
“Thanks.” Jake threw his jacket across one of the kitchen chairs and scowled in Lily’s general direction. “And in case you’re wondering, I sure as hell feel worse than I look.”
Dawn had fully arrived, spreading a wash of sunlight across the fresh snow that reflected back so brightly, it made him squint. He walked over to the bay window that encircled the breakfast nook and stared out across the lake. It was much too early for the lake to freeze, and the water looked rough as it rolled onto the beach, pushed forward by a cold north wind. In the distance, he saw the sprinkling of cottages lining the water, but for the most part, this side of Crystal Lake was isolated, with homes that were considered estates nestled among forest and privacy.
Only those with deep enough pockets could afford to live here.
“It’s pretty.”
He nodded. “It sure is.”
“Do you miss it?” Lily was beside him now, her willowy frame covered in bright pink flannel pajamas that hid a hell of a lot more than Raine’s bedtime attire.
“I used to.” His eyes followed a squirrel as it frantically dug through the snow at the base of one of the oak trees that bordered his parents’ estate. When the darkness of Afghanistan was overwhelming, thoughts of home had always got him through. Memories of the lake, his family. Raine.
“You don’t anymore?”
He shook his head. “Not really.” Liar.
His abrupt tone would have put most people off, but Lily wasn’t most people. She had an innate ability to see and hear only what she wanted to.
“Coffee?” she asked.
He’d already had two cups but… “Cream?” He lifted an eyebrow.
“Damn straight. Is there any other way?” Lily grinned and settled back into her chair. She grabbed the newspaper he’d brought in with him. “Can you pour me a cup while you’re at it?”
“Sure thing, princess.”
He fixed them each a cup and grimaced when he caught sight of his face reflected in the window. With his overgrown hair and scruffy chin, he looked nothing like the soldier he’d once been. Christ, if his unit could see him now, they’d think he’d gone Hollywood. They’d call him a pussy and have every right to do so.
“Your parents are nice.” Lily set the paper down and stared at him in that direct way that she had—the one that put most people o
n edge. With her face free of makeup and her hair thrown back into a ponytail, she looked younger, fresher than the woman she portrayed in public. “They’re so normal…nothing like the circus I grew up with.”
“I gotta agree with you,” he said drily. “They’re pretty damn special.”
Lily folded the paper just so and tugged the edge of her flannel pajamas down to her wrists. She settled back into her chair, all prim and proper, and took a sip of coffee as she stared at him.
“What?” he said abruptly.
The woman had radar for all kinds of shit, but he didn’t know if he was in the mood for any of it right now. Sure, they’d bonded over a shared bottle of tequila on one hell of a crazy night at the Sundowner in Texas, but two fractured human beings didn’t always make for the best sort of company.
“So, your sister-in-law, Raine…”
He cut her off before she could go any further. “We’re not talking about her.”
“You’re in love with her.”
He glared at her, though he didn’t bother denying it. What was the point? Aside from the fact that it was the truth, Lily St. Clare was tenacious and wouldn’t let it go. It wasn’t her nature, especially since sticking her nose in his business gave her something to focus on other than the sad state of her own personal affairs. When it came to a fucked-up past, she was running neck and neck in that race with him.
But this was hitting a little too close to home.
“Lily, I don’t want to talk about her.”
She made a face but relented, though for how long was anyone’s guess. He tossed the remainder of his coffee into the sink and glanced at the clock. It was now nearly seven, and he knew he’d better hop in the shower and do something about the state of his appearance, or his mother was going to worry. After everything she’d been through, that was the last thing he wanted.
“Your dad is feeling up to an outing, so your parents invited us to some”—she smiled at him—“thing in your little town this afternoon, and I said we’d be more than happy to go with them.”
Shit, here we go.
Friday after Thanksgiving meant only one thing. The town-wide Black Friday extravaganza. Every single store would be open, filled to the brim with overzealous shopping crowds out for the best deal they could find, and overzealous townsfolk all wanting to know where the hell he’d been for the last year and a half.
Jake could not think of any other place he’d rather not be.
“Why the hell would they do that?” His brow furled into a thunderous line, hating the feeling like he was being fenced in, forced into a corner he couldn’t get out of. And that made him feel even more guilty than he already did. He should have been chomping at the bit to spend more time with his parents. They deserved it, and deep down he knew that he needed it. The precipice he’d teetered on for months was starting to crumble, and he needed something solid and concrete to hold him steady or he was in danger of falling.
He thought back to Texas. If he fell again, he wasn’t so sure there was anyone who could bring him back. A cat only had so many lives, and he was pretty sure he’d used all of his up.
Lily shrugged. “Your parents love me.”
“They barely know you,” he muttered, still confused by the back-and-forth his emotions were putting him through.
“Are you trying to tell me that I’m not lovable?” She pouted cheekily.
She knew damn well she wasn’t lovable, or cute. She was beautiful—striking, really—but definitely more Nordic chill than warm and fuzzy. Lily St. Clare was one of the most prickly females he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting, and her cool blond looks exemplified the glass shell she liked to hide beneath. Tequila had allowed him to see beneath the surface, and after their failed attempt to find comfort in each other’s arms, something else had happened. Something unexpected but much needed for the both of them.
Friendship.
“I couldn’t say no. Besides, I’m pretty sure your mother thinks we’re involved, and I didn’t have the heart to set her straight on that one.”
He groaned, thought of Raine’s words, and shook his head. “What the hell is up with that?”
Lily bristled at his tone. “They care about you, jackass, and obviously the thought of having a woman in your life makes them happy. They’re concerned and have every right to be. You’re a mess.”
“Guess that’s why we get along so good.” Jake glared at the blonde, not in the mood for her high-handed attitude. All he wanted was a long, hot shower. It wasn’t too much to ask for, was it? Hell, he’d spent the night not sleeping on a sofa that didn’t exactly fit his long frame. The least Lily could do was get the hell out of his way and let him by.
“Look.” Lily stood and faced him.
So much for getting out of my way.
“This was your idea. I was perfectly okay staying in Texas for the holidays, but you needed backup, and I get that.”
“Lily—”
“I’m not finished.”
Irritated, Jake folded his arms across his chest and hoped that she’d make this quick. Over the last year, as he’d got to know the woman, one thing about her had become pretty apparent. She liked to talk. And she liked to be right. In some ways she was a lot like Raine, which wasn’t surprising, since it seemed to be his bad fortune to surround himself with females who annoyed the hell out of him.
“Your mom and dad think that we’re sleeping together.”
“I told my mother we weren’t.”
“She obviously didn’t believe you.”
“Unbelievable.” Jake made a strangled sound. “Women accuse men of having selective hearing all the time, and you know what? We do! Because you guys only hear what the hell you want to hear, so why should we bother?”
“Whatever, Jake. Honestly, what did you think your mom would think? You bring a woman home for Thanksgiving, it’s not that far off for them to assume we’re sleeping together.”
“It’s all bullshit.”
“I know it’s bullshit. You know it’s bullshit.” Lily shook her head and smiled. “But your parents don’t and neither does Raine.”
“What are you getting at?” Christ, it was too early in the morning for this kind of crap.
“I’m here for a few more days. What’s so wrong with us”—she smiled in that way that instantly put Jake on alert—“pretending we’re together, if it makes your parents happy?”
Jake’s irritation grew by leaps and bounds. What the hell was up with the women in his life?
“That’s the most insane thing I’ve ever heard.” He’d barely got the words out when his mother and father walked into the kitchen, both bundled up in matching plum-colored terry robes and huge, fluffy slippers.
His father’s complexion was pale, his cheeks gray, but there was a lightness in his eyes that set Jake at ease. Jake glanced down at his father’s feet and then back up to his father. His expression said, Don’t ask, which of course meant Jake couldn’t let it go.
“Nice slippers.” He couldn’t help it and his face broke into a wide grin as the tension inside him slipped through the cracks.
“Thanks,” Steven said airily as he reached into the cupboard for two coffee mugs.
“Aren’t they different?” Marnie stuck her foot out, twisting her ankle. “I saw them in one of my catalogs and knew Steven would like them as much as I did. They’re so warm and comfortable.”
Jake nodded. “I see that.” He glanced up at his dad again. “They’re, uh…really furry.”
His dad tipped his head to the side. “They are.”
“And really purple.”
Steven poured his coffee. “They are that too.”
“They match your robe.”
His father’s eyes narrowed. “We could go on all day I suppose, but let’s just stop right about now, son, sound good?”
&
nbsp; Jake chuckled and nodded. “Hey, I wish I had a pair.”
“I could order you some, if you like.”
He glanced at his mother and shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”
Marnie took a sip of her coffee. “How’s our Raine?”
At the mention of his sister-in-law, the lightness of the moment vanished. “She’s going to have one hell of a hangover, that’s for sure.” A thought crossed his mind. “Where’s her dog?”
Jake had forgotten about the puppy until now.
His mother’s entire mood lightened, and for a second he just drank in the sight. “Gibson is asleep on our bed.”
“Your bed?”
Okay, his parents were definitely going crazy. For as long as he could remember, dogs were strictly meant for outdoors. They’d had a collie one summer, a mangy animal that Jesse had found down at the pier in town. They’d brought it home, ignoring its general unease and nastiness, convinced their father would fall all over himself with joy at the thought of his sons gallivanting through long hot summer days with a white and black collie following in their footsteps.
The reality was much different. Steven hadn’t budged, and they’d had to beg for permission to keep it until an owner could be found. The dog was eventually named Puppy and spent the summer in the boathouse, roaming the woods that surrounded their property and turning up for food every night. Near the end of that summer, Puppy didn’t show up for his dinner, and they’d never seen the dog again.
Jake shot a look toward his father, who shrugged. “I’ve learned to pick my battles, son.”
“Did Raine have a bad night?” his mother asked softly.
Jake turned back to his mother, unhappy to see her smile gone. The worry that creased her forehead was ingrained deeper than he liked, and it twisted his gut something fierce to see the pain she tried so hard to hide from him.