“I don’t know, Rebecca. Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
Rebecca’s eyes narrowed at Raine’s insolent tone.
“He’s right behind you.”
Thank God.
Raine had delayed coming into town when she found out Jake would be late. Hell no, that was a lie. She’d almost said screw it and stayed in, but the thought of Jake facing the curious—though well-meaning—townspeople alone had been enough to make her get her butt into her car and drive into Crystal Lake.
Her timing was good, though she would have considered it a win if she’d at least managed to avoid Rebecca altogether.
Jake nodded to Mrs. Avery, the florist, and stopped just to Raine’s left. She glanced up quickly and her heart squeezed a bit. The man was exhausted. Fatigue lines crept along his eyes and the expression inside them hurt her something fierce. He wasn’t just exhausted. He was haunted.
And even though she was still holding on to a truckload of anger where he was concerned—anger over the way he’d abandoned his family. Anger over the way he’d left her alone to deal with the most heartbreaking year of her life.
She couldn’t deny her feelings for him. Jake Edwards was her family.
Though if she was honest, he was more than that. Always had been. He was connected to her in a way no one else had ever been, not even her husband, Jesse. The problem was that the two of them clashed more than they got along, and she knew it would take a bit for them to get over the last year and a half.
But they would get there. They had to. There was no other choice.
Jake put his hand at Raine’s back and smiled at Rebecca. “Hey, it’s been a while. How’s Bradley doing these days?”
Rebecca licked her lips, and Raine scowled at the obvious sex-bomb ploy. The woman had more Botox and collagen than a freaking Hollywood starlet, and while she supposed Rebecca was still considered hot, there was something insanely wrong about putting that crap into your face when you were in your early thirties.
Fifty? Maybe. Sixty? Hell, yeah. No judging. There was nothing wrong with firming up a bit if you wanted to, but why mess with nature when you were still so young? She’d look like a freak by the time she was sixty.
“Jake, I was so glad to hear you finally came to your senses and are back home where you belong.”
Rebecca waited for a response but none came, and an uncomfortable few seconds passed before Rebecca giggled nervously. “Now if only we could convince Cain and Maggie to return from Los Angeles, we’d have half the Bad Boys back in town and it would be like old times, don’t you think?”
Raine felt Jake stiffen at her side and she stared at Rebecca, loathing everything about the woman. She did not have a brain in her head. It wasn’t possible.
Raine waited for the explosion, the harsh, condescending words that would surely erupt from Jake’s mouth, but he surprised her.
“I’m not real keen on going back in time, because I don’t think things will ever be the same again. But then, that’s the way it should be, no?”
Rebecca shrugged. “Sure, I hear you. I just meant it would be nice if everyone was home again, Cain, Mackenzie…” Her eyes moved to Raine. “And of course, Jesse. None of us have forgotten him. He’ll always be a part of us. Of this town.”
Suddenly, Raine had had enough of the bullshit. Rebecca had meant nothing to Jesse, and she certainly didn’t mean anything to Raine. And other than being Jake’s fuck buddy when they were teenagers, she wasn’t relevant.
She turned abruptly. “Let’s go, Jake.”
The two of them crossed the lobby, and Raine’s tension increased in small increments as she said hello to Mrs. Lancaster, the pastor’s wife, and then Mr. Lawrence, owner of Lawrence’s Tackle & Bait, followed by the vet, Dr. Hannigan.
Her heart pounded and she heard each and every beat inside her head. What the hell was wrong with her?
She glanced to the left and then to the right.
Of course, half the town was out, because really, what else was there to do on a Friday night but grab hold of a frozen turkey and throw it down the ice at ten bottles of diet soda?
I don’t want any of this.
For one moment she considered turning around, making an excuse, and getting the hell out of Dodge. The thought of her sofa, Gibson, and a brainless movie to take her away was almost more than she could take.
Raine hesitated. She was cold. And hot. She felt disoriented.
But then a warm hand traveled up her back and settled at the top of her spine. Long, male fingers. They gently rubbed along the corded muscles there and she held her breath, mouth going dry.
The sensation was bittersweet and so foreign to her that she wanted to cry. It had been that long.
“Hey.”
Her breath held as Jake’s mouth moved to near her ear. He was still behind her, and she supposed—judging from the covert glances tossed her way—they looked almost intimate.
“Let’s buy some raffle tickets to support the community center, watch a game of turkey bowling, and get the hell out of here.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay.”
She hadn’t done a big crowd in months, and she just didn’t know if she had the strength to deal with everyone’s well-wishes.
They entered the rink and bought a bunch of raffle tickets, all for the chance to win various sorts of prizes ranging from barbecue utensils to engine oil to bottles of booze.
Already a robust game of turkey bowling was under way, and the two of them slipped through the crowd, inching closer to the rink for a better look. Someone handed Jake a beer, but Raine declined, her eyes on the ice, already looking at the clock and counting down the moments until she could leave.
There were too many happy people around. Too many couples. Too many stolen glances, soft touches, and kids. Holy Christ, the kids. They were everywhere.
Raine swallowed hard and was about to bolt when Luke Jansen approached, a huge grin pasted to his face. Jansen was tall, the same age as Jake, but already with a thinning scalp and thickening waist. They’d all gone to school together years ago, and Luke had played football with Jake and the boys.
“Christ, Edwards.” Luke stuck out a hand and shook Jake’s vigorously. “Good to see you.” His smiled widened as he glanced down at Raine, though he took a moment and she saw the concern there. The questions.
For a second, she panicked, her chest tight, her breath caught in her throat. The pressure was too tight and she looked away, exhaling slowly as she tried to stay calm. Shit, why had she ever thought it would be a good idea to come to this with Jake?
Because she was so happy to see the back of Lily St. Clare’s head that she invited Jake on a whim, and he surprised her by accepting.
“Raine, how have you been?”
She swallowed and met Luke’s eyes, pasting another fake smile to her face. “Good.”
His gaze lingered a little too long. His eyes were a little too intense.
God, it was hot in here.
Raine tugged at her soft pink turtleneck and glanced at Jake—which was the wrong thing to do, because he was looking between the two of them, and she could see him mind working. He knew something was up.
“I’m glad,” Luke replied, but when he opened his mouth to continue, Raine didn’t give him a chance.
“So, you’re here to turkey bowl?” Her voice was overly bright and she was well aware that Jake was looking at her strangely. The panic in her gut spread out and she started to babble.
“Wow, what a crowd. The committee must be really happy.
“Shoot, isn’t that your girlfriend over there?
“No? Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you guys broke up.
“So, you’re here to bowl?”
Luke glanced from Raine to Jake and he slowly nodded. “Uh, yeah, Backhouse cornered me into it, but we’re look
ing for a third member for our team.”
“Backhouse?” That got Jake’s attention, thank God, and he turned to look over her shoulder at the ice.
“Yep.” Luke nodded and then paused, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Why don’t you join us, Edwards? We’re up next.”
Jake started to shake his head, but then Matt Backhouse sidled up alongside the ice and grinned at them through the glass. “Hey, Raine.”
“Hi.” Her mind went blank until Jake coughed sharply and she thought he said…
Skirt.
She glared at Jake.
“Matt,” she continued. A good-looking guy, he was of average build, with curly blond hair and blue eyes the color of a robin’s egg. But Jake was right. He was entirely too nice. He was the kind of guy who always opened the door, said please and thank you, and didn’t know how to swear properly.
Everyone knew that feck wasn’t a swearword.
Skirt.
He was boring.
Skirt.
And hell-bent on pleasing.
Skirt.
And he always agreed. Hell, Yes was his middle name.
Skirt. Skirt. And skirt.
No wonder his wife had left him. What kind of relationship thrived when there was no friction?
“Raine, do you want to be our third?” Matt grinned from ear to ear. “We’re up next, but Kenny Davidson isn’t here yet.”
Jake grabbed a beer offered to him by Luke and stepped forward. “That’s all right, Backhouse. I’m in.”
Raine frowned as Jake smiled down at her. “Unless you want to play?” he asked silkily.
“No,” she answered hastily. The last place she wanted to be was out there on the ice, under the scrutiny of all those eyes. Everyone would be wondering how the young widow was doing, and they’d be commenting on her weight or how pale she was, or maybe—she touched the jagged ends of her hair—the state of her last haircut.
“Don’t worry,” Jake said, “I’ll play this one game and then we’re outta here.”
Chapter 13
Except that one game turned into four, because they kept winning, and by the time they were well into the championship round, it was nearly midnight. Raine was running on fumes. She was tired and cold and tense and pissed off.
She couldn’t relax if her life depended on it, and Jake? Well, Mr. Jake Edwards was half in the bag and tossing his turkey as if he were playing in some life-or-death tournament. A permasmile had taken up residence on his face, and he was the life of the party.
What. The. Hell.
He was supposed to be as dark and twisty as she was.
Her fingers clutched a large hot chocolate and she slowly sipped, avoiding eye contact with anyone who crossed her perimeter, because she wasn’t feeling social at all. She watched Jake line up his shot, his muscles well defined by the plain, long-sleeve henley shirt he wore.
She watched him pause as several women shouted encouragement from the sidelines, including Melinda from the Coach House and Lori from A Cut Above—even though her new squeeze, Brad Kitchen, stood by her side. Melinda, however, had poured her assets into skintight jeans, a cute black top that hugged her considerable curves, and shoes that were totally inappropriate for an ice rink. She tossed her hair back—okay, what was with all the hair tossing?—and inched her way closer to Jake.
“Win this one and I’ll buy you another drink!” she shouted.
Over my dead body.
If Raine was surprised at her possessive thoughts, she paid them no mind. Jake had had too much to drink, and even though he seemed happy, jovial even, she knew it wasn’t real.
He was as dark and twisty as she was, dammit.
Jake flashed a smile at Melinda, though his dark eyes settled on Raine briefly before he accepted a fifteen-pound frozen turkey from Luke, took aim, and whipped it down the ice. He obliterated the row of soda bottles, scored a strike, and Raine tossed her hot chocolate into the bin beside her.
She strode forward, inching through the crowd that surrounded him, and honestly, it was as if he’d just scored a touchdown in the freaking Super Bowl. She glared at Melinda. The woman hung off Jake like a bad rash, her arms on his shoulders as she laughed up at him. If she pressed her boobs into him any harder, he’d end up with two very large and very round imprints across his chest.
It’s a turkey bowl, you idiot. He’s not saving the world.
“Jake, it’s time to go.”
Jake whipped his head around, and though he still smiled widely, she saw the shadows that clung to the corners. The ones that filled in the lines around his eyes.
“Raine, you were our good-luck charm!” Matt Backhouse slid alongside her, his face flushed from the effects of one too many beers. Or three or four.
“I don’t think so.” She shook her head and smiled politely, jostled forward by a raucous bunch of teens. “You guys won that all on your own.”
Matt slid his arm around her shoulders, his weight heavy as he leaned into her, and she wrinkled her nose. He smelled like beer and sweat, and she wished he would take his hands off her.
“I think you and I should maybe do something sometime.”
“Something?” Raine tried to push away from Matt, but he was more than a little drunk and his fingers now clutched at her, tight along her elbow.
“Yeah.” He nodded, a sloppy grin claiming his mouth. “Maybe a movie or something.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so, Matt. But thanks for asking.”
She was hit from behind again and stumbled forward, with both of Matt’s hands on her now as he helped to steady her. She was inches from his face, helpless to stop him as he leaned forward, his intention obvious.
“Matt, what are you doing?” she said carefully, trying to push away. His audacity took her by surprise, but she supposed when you were a lightweight and downed as many beers as he had, anything was possible. But Matt Backhouse was harmless.
He was, as Jake said, a skirt. She could handle him.
“I think I wanna kiss my good-luck charm.”
Her stomach rolled. Oh God, the stale beer.
“Hands off, Backhouse.”
He was yanked from behind, and the only reason he didn’t fall on his ass was because Jake held him by the scruff of his neck.
Jake released Matt and he rounded, fists ready, only to fall limply to his side when he gazed up at the dark, intense, and pissed-off Jake. The good humor and easy camaraderie fled as Luke slid between the two men.
“Hey, now,” Luke said, hands up. “Let’s calm down, boys.”
Melinda shoved her chest out and licked her lips. “Jake why don’t we get out of here?”
Jake turned to Melinda, and Raine was suddenly too damn hot and too damn bothered to pay attention. If Jake Edwards wanted to dip his wick into someone like Melinda, then who was she to stand in the way?
At least Melinda wasn’t some platinum-blond trust-fund baby. Nope, she was a good old small-town girl who could show Jake a good time, and she wouldn’t break his heart in the process. Maybe she was what he needed. Someone normal. Someone who kinda sorta understood where he came from.
Raine’s gaze passed over Jake, who was bent down listening intently to whatever the hell was coming out of Melinda’s mouth.
Why did she care who he slept with? Was she that selfish? Did she want him to suffer the way she did?
Raine turned on her heel and shoved through the thinning crowd. She said good-byes to those who shouted at her and made her way off the ice and out into the lobby. Out here the crowd was thinner, though the booze had flowed steadily and the majority of those left behind were going to be nursing some pretty serious hangovers the next day.
Good to see that turkey, beer, and whiskey could raise a crap ton of money for the community center.
Outside the ai
r was crisp, and with one deep breath she banished the stale beer and sweat from inside. For a second she paused, her face lifted upward. The snow fell gently, tickling her nose as the huge, fluffy flakes drifted all around her. Colored lights were strung up across the top of the arena, the reds, blues, yellows, and greens twinkling around her like a fantastical light show. Off to the right, just outside the front doors, was a massive Santa Claus—she wasn’t sure how she’d missed him on the way in—the jovial face frozen in perpetual glee.
Christmas was less than four weeks away, and just the thought of it was enough to make her throat swell with emotion. Time marched on, it seemed, with no regard for those who preferred to be left behind.
There was a time when Christmas had been her favorite time of year. A season of parties and goodwill. Of snowmobiling in the bush and bonfires until the morning hours. It had never been about presents for Raine. It had been about family and love. Of belonging to someone.
And sadly, even though Marnie and Steven tried their best, she just didn’t feel like she belonged to anyone anymore. She thought of the damn empty chair at Thanksgiving. Did she really want to go through that again?
Raine started forward, shrugging off the melancholy as she trudged through the snow in search of her car. She thought briefly of Gloria and wondered if she was going to be around for the holidays. By chance, she’d talked to her mother briefly at the grocery store. If not for Mrs. Lancaster’s presence, she would gladly have slipped down another aisle and ignored her mother altogether. But Mrs. Lancaster was hard to avoid, and the woman had eyes in the back of her head. How many times had Raine been busted for reading Sweet Valley High books in church?
She spied her Volkswagen near the center of the parking lot, an overgrown pile of white, buried beneath at least a foot of snow. Grabbing her keys from her pocket, she was about to unlock the trunk and grab her snow brush when Jake appeared so suddenly, she dropped them.
“Jesus Christ, Jake. What the hell?” Irritated, she searched through the snow at her feet, retrieved her keys, and glared at him. “Aren’t you going somewhere with Melinda?”
The Christmas He Loved Her Page 12