“Jake!” I place my hand over my mouth, but quickly pull it away so I can take the flowers from his hand. “You didn’t have to do that.” I step back, wrapping both my hands around the vase. “Are you coming in?”
“I’ll wait right here.”
It doesn’t take me long to situate the flowers in the kitchen next to Bailey’s, and then I return to my date, closing the door behind me. He holds out his arm, and I can’t help but think that this must be odd for him. Jake has never struck me as the traditional, romantic type.
“Where are we going?” I ask, tucking my hand inside the crook of his arm. He simply smiles.
Dinner at a quiet restaurant with real tablecloths, a walk by the river so we can look at the reflection of building lights against the night sky floating in the water, and eventually Jake and I find ourselves at one of Harley and Ryan’s favorite haunts, a little restaurant named Tiny’s. We order blackberry cobbler from the very large, sweet gentleman with the shaved head who owns the place, and then we settle in at a corner table.
“What’s your absolute favorite food?” Jake asks, placing his hand over mine on the table.
That question doesn’t take much thought. “My mom’s spaghetti and meatballs. How about you?”
He pauses to look around like he’s thinking it over. “Shrimp. My granny made it once when I lived with her, and there was just something about the way she did it. It was so good.”
“How long were you with her?”
He turns my hand over and begins tracing his finger across the lines, like he’s inspecting them, but I have a feeling he’s just stalling.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” I add.
He glances up, meeting my eyes for only a second before he looks at my hand again. “About a year. Mom was there for maybe three months, and then she moved in with Randy. He took her to Florida, and that was that. I was with Granny until she got sick, and then Dad had to come get me. ‘All the way to South Carolina, what a waste of gas.’ I know he didn’t mean it against me, but just the situation in general. She shouldn’t have taken me there in the first place.”
“And your grandmother?”
He shakes his head but doesn’t shift his focus from my hand. “Died three weeks later. Mom didn’t tell me until the next year.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. Tiny places the cobbler on the table, and I smile up at him only to get a nod in return. It’s likely that he realizes we’re deep in conversation.
“No,” Jake says, folding his hand over mine once again and drawing his gaze up to focus on me. “Don’t be sorry. I don’t regret a single thing that happened in my life, because if one thing was different, I might not be here with you.”
“Not one regret?” I sink my spoon into the cobbler, pausing with it on the edge of the bowl. “Not a single mistake you wish you could fix?”
He stares at me, and I know he’s trying to read behind my eyes. Whether he can do it or not is still a bit of a mystery, but a sad smile crosses his face, almost like he knows I would try to go back and fix my mistakes. Not to do so goes against my very nature.
“No,” he finally says. “Some mistakes aren’t nearly as important as we think they are, Alex.”
Somehow the conversation turns back to the light topics of earlier in the date, and we finish our shared bowl of cobbler and head back to Jake’s truck. He opens the door for me, and as soon as he’s on the driver’s side, he reaches over to take my hand again. It’s been a constant the entire evening, the physical contact. The knots in my stomach have been fairly consistent, too, because my feelings for this man are pretty overwhelming. That might not be a bad thing, if I thought we had a future together. I’m still not sure it’s possible.
He makes me forget when he looks over at me, though, with the complete openness of his expression. The smile tugging at his lips. My knowledge that he’s gone above and beyond in his effort to show me how important I am to him tonight.
By the time we pull onto Wonder Lane, I’m almost sad. We’ll take Bailey home, and then Jake will leave, and it’s going to be hours before I see him again. It’s an unhealthy attachment I’m forming in my heart.
“Thank you for tonight,” I tell him as he turns off the truck’s engine.
“No, let me help you get Bailey before you tell me good night. Please?”
I can’t deny him that, and he walks next door and knocks, waiting until Josh appears at the door, a sleeping Bailey in his arms. He hands her over to Jake, who crosses the space between our houses while I hold the door open. Instead of following him back to the bedroom, I wait by the front door, not wanting to intrude on his time with her. It will be easy enough for me to check in on her when he leaves.
He reappears from the hallway, sniffing a little. “Man, that kid tugs on my heart,” he says, reaching up to rub his nose. “This is always the worst part of my day.”
“Why is that?”
He stops in front of me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I hate leaving this house. My girls. I’m pretty sure part of me stays behind until I come back the next day.”
“Are we your girls?” I ask with a smile.
He removes his hand from my waist to brush my hair back from my cheek, and then he simply shrugs. “God willing. I know I ask Him every day.”
I wrap my arms around him, feeling the curves of his back beneath his dress shirt. He leans in just enough to brush my lips with his, similar to last night, as though he’s trying us out to see if we fit. It’s not enough. A little of Jake is never enough. Instead of waiting, I kiss him the way I want Jake to kiss me. The same sort of kiss I would have expected Jake to offer—bold, passionate, fiery, and aggressive.
He responds for a minute, but then pulls back, dragging his mouth away and taking in a shuddering breath. The break of the bond between us almost makes me gasp. “Wait,” he says, backing away a step.
My heart sinks, because while I’m certainly not adept at dating, that seemed like a pretty fantastic date to me. The best one I’ve ever been on. Naturally I can’t help messing things up afterwards. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He backs a couple feet to the arm of the couch, taking a seat on it as he holds my hands. “Before this goes any farther, I need to make sure we’re on the same page.”
The impact of his words makes me want to sit down, but I remain where I am, unmoving.
“Any farther?”
“Where do you see this going?” He pulls one of his hands from mine and runs it through his hair, causing almost an exact repeat of his disheveled state from last night. “You’re not really someone I can date without consequences, you know. It feels like it has to be serious or nothing.”
“And serious isn’t your normal course of action,” I conclude, feeling the dejection wash over me.
He squints his eyes a bit, like I just hit him with a left hook. It wasn’t my intention. Just stating the facts.
“Not in the past, which is why I have to square it up with you. This is serious to me.”
“It’s serious to me too,” I answer defensively. “Everything is because of Bailey.”
He reaches up to jerk his tie loose, like it’s suddenly suffocating him. “Then fast forward a year from now. Do you see us together?”
Sliding my hand out of his, I step past him and sit on the couch, where I begin nervously toying with the stitching at the hem of my dress. “You want me to predict the future?”
He sighs as he drops onto the couch cushion from the arm, slouching next to me with our arms touching. He doesn’t reach for my hand this time, and that realization makes my heart hurt even more. “Knowing your own heart and mind has nothing to do with predicting the future.” He leans his head back against the cushion, staring straight ahead at the black TV screen. “Just be honest with me. That’s all I’m asking.”
I draw the corner of my bottom lip between my teeth, wondering just how honest I can be. Whatever I say, the easy mood from before has disappeared, gone wi
thout a trace.
“I haven’t changed, Jake. Not really. All my life I’ve been waiting, with one single exception, and I haven’t lost belief that there’s someone waiting for me too. It probably sounds naïve and childish to you, but I want to be someone’s first and last. The only one.”
“And you can’t have that with me,” he finishes. “That’s what you’re saying.”
“Jake—”
“That’s your deal breaker?”
What am I supposed to say? No? I’m willing to give it all up simply for a slight chance?
“Shouldn’t it be?” I answer quietly.
“You know what? It’s not your fault. I convinced myself that you might want…” He clears his throat and stands up. “It doesn’t matter. You were honest, and that’s what I asked for. Thank you.”
“Please,” I whisper as he moves past me.
“Good night.”
There’s no need to turn around to see that he’s gone. When I hear the door close, I know. Dropping my head into my hands, I let a tear slide down my cheek and drip onto my knee, my fears about a relationship with Jake feeling like they played out before my eyes. How will I face him tomorrow when he wants to see Bailey? Will he even come over, after what I said?
Pushing myself up from the couch, I cross into the kitchen and touch my fingertips to the lilacs, inhaling their delicate scent. Bailey. I need to see Bailey.
She’s breathing heavily when I step into the room, covers pulled up to her chin and Hoppy cradled in her arm. Jake must have done that. Fresh tears build up in my eyes at that thought, and I place my hand on her rib cage, following the gentle rise and fall as she breathes. I’ll never get tired of watching the simple act of her breathing. Bending, I place a kiss on her forehead, careful not to wake her. The last thing I need is to startle her awake to the sight of me crying.
I should go straight into my bedroom, change into some pajamas, and crawl into bed. My body doesn’t want to cooperate, though. It wants to reinforce the idea that Jake is gone. The fact that I ran him away. My legs carry me back to the living room, to the window at the front of the house, and my hand reaches up to lift the blinds ever so slightly, just so I can peek out. When my eyes focus on the red pickup still sitting in my driveway, everything freezes.
The sudden knock on the door startles me enough that I almost scream as I drop the blinds, but instead I just remain there a couple seconds, willing my heart rate to return to normal. Hastily brushing at my cheeks to remove any stray tears that might have left their evidence, I turn to the door and pull it open ever so slightly. The sight of Jake just beyond the door with his hands in his pockets and his eyes rimmed with red causes me to open it wider, leaning against it as I wait.
“You’re wrong,” he says. “I know I should just leave it alone, but I can’t, because you have it all wrong.”
My heart threatens to break into a thousand pieces at the realization that he cares enough to fight tears over me. Over us.
“How?” It’s all I can choke out before emotion steals my voice.
“You say that you want to be someone’s first, and I know you look at me and that’s probably a big joke,” he begins, rubbing his nose while he sniffs. “You are the first, don’t you see that? Last night, when we kissed, that was the first time I’ve ever kissed someone I love. Tonight was my first date with a woman I love. First shared blackberry cobbler. First time I’ve handed the love of my life flowers. The first time I’ve looked into someone’s eyes and seen myself being content even one year from now, let alone five or ten years. But I see that with you. Decades of firsts, and every one of my lasts.”
The dress is wrapped so tightly around me, it’s cutting off my lung capacity. Or maybe it’s just my emotion. I drag in a painful breath, watching him pace the porch.
“And all I want is this,” he continues, gesturing at the house. “Every time I leave at night I lose precious time that I could be spending with my family, because that’s how I see you. So if I don’t fit into your plans, it’s not because you wouldn’t be first with me. You’re already first, you and Bailey, and you always will be, no matter who shares your life with you.”
I know I should say something, but I can’t. The words are stuck in my chest, burning with a slow ache.
“I gotta go.” He shakes his head as he turns to walk away, squinting his eyes closed like he’s mentally reprimanding himself, but he doesn’t dawdle as he walks to his truck. The second he’s inside, the engine comes to life and he backs out of the driveway, headed into the night.
I close the door behind me, locking the deadbolt and then the lock Jake put at the top of the door to protect Bailey. My fingers linger on it for a second, and then I slide to the floor, letting my tears pour out over another failed second chance.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Alexis
The alarm clock on my nightstand tells me it’s four a.m., but it’s really irrelevant. After being up all night, the actual time doesn’t matter. I’ve cried and prayed and cried and prayed, and I know what my heart wants, but I can’t find peace about anything. Haven’t for so long, I can’t remember what it feels like.
Taking my cell phone from its resting place next to the bed, I bring the screen to life, where it confirms to me once again that it’s no time to be contemplating life decisions. Jake still hasn’t called. Not that I expected him to, but part of me keeps hoping.
I touch the contact number before I even think, almost panicking when I hear the phone ringing. Hang up, my brain orders, but at the same time it pleads not to do that. If I wake him, he’ll think something’s wrong.
“Hello?” the voice sounds on the other end of the phone, gravelly and half-asleep. “Alexis? What happened?”
“Nothing, Dad,” I say, fighting tears. “I just…need you.”
“Is it Bailey? What’s wrong? Let me get the car and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“No.” I sit up in bed, clutching a fistful of blankets in my left hand. “Nothing’s wrong. I shouldn’t have startled you. I wasn’t thinking.”
“What’s wrong?” Mom asks in the background.
“Nothing, just go back to bed,” he tells her. The sound of him groaning alerts me that he’s up, moving about the house. Probably in the hopes that Mom can go back to sleep, even though I’m sure she’s wide awake. “Now, tell me what’s going on, sweetheart.”
A fresh round of tears pricks at my eyes, and it almost makes me angry. My chest already feels as though I’ve had a weeklong racking cough.
“It’s Jake,” I manage to tell him. “He took me on a date tonight.”
“Oh?”
It occurs to me that it might be strange to talk to my dad about my love life, but it’s too late.
“He says he loves me.”
There’s hesitation on the other side of the phone, and I wonder if I’ve shocked him.
“And what about you? Do you love him?”
Even the question makes my chest ache like it’s anticipating more tears.
“I do. I love Jake.”
How could I not see it before?
“That’s fantastic, honey. Of course we like Jake, and we want you to be happy.”
“And I want to be happy, but every time I think about moving on with a new life, I can’t get past it. Everything that happened. The things you went through because of me.”
The stupid mistakes I made, and the fact that I might want something totally different now. Isn’t that a cop out? Alexis messed her life up, so she has to change all her dreams?
“No,” he states forcefully. “Don’t you dare make the same mistakes I made, do you hear me?”
“What?” I whisper, staring at the window and the tiny sliver of light coming through the blinds. A streetlight, not the break of day.
“I had to leave the place I was called to be because I couldn’t forgive, honey. That’s a miserable place to find yourself.”
I shake my head, knowing that he’s wrong. They w
ere at fault. I heard them with my own ears.
“They did horrible things, Dad.”
“We all do, but it wasn’t them I couldn’t forgive.”
Rising from bed, I wander back to the kitchen, letting my eyes linger on the flowers Jake brought, both mine and Bailey’s.
“I don’t understand.”
His sigh is loud enough to make me stand perfectly still. “The anger I felt was very vivid, sweetheart. In the end, most of them apologized to me and I forgave them, but I couldn’t seem to forget about the venom I’d held inside my heart. It plagued me. Enough so that I couldn’t be their pastor, because I felt like a failure.”
That admission causes even more pain in my chest, so I press my palm to my heart. “I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t want you to. Didn’t want anyone to, but I see you walking down the same path. You’ve always been such a good girl, Alexis, that you take any deviation personally. But some mistakes aren’t as important as we make them.”
My fingertip grazes the petals of one of the white roses. “Jake said almost that same thing at dinner.”
“Maybe Jake was supposed to be in your life. Beauty from ashes, if you accept the grace given and extend a little to yourself.”
“Yeah?” I whisper, taking in his words.
“That’s the trouble with trying to be perfect. The closer we think we’re coming to it, the harder we’re going to crash when we don’t measure up. And we can’t, no matter how hard we try.” He pauses for a minute, and I walk back to the blinds at the front of the house, peeking into the darkness, wishing the red truck would reappear in the driveway. “The drive to do the right thing is good, but it can’t save you. Only grace can do that, but you have to let it in.”
“I know.” A small smile crosses my lips—the first in hours. “Thank you, Dad.”
“I love you, sweetheart.”
An even bigger smile breaks onto my face, light as the laugh bubbling up from deep within.
Curiouser (Girls of Wonder Lane Book 3) Page 28