Roped In (Strings Book 2)

by J. C. Hayden

  I couldn’t agree more. Boston felt like another world away. A world I was not eager to return to. I loved my life there. Loved my friends and my job and my music, but I’d really needed this time away. I hadn’t realized it until we’d gotten here the other night, but now that I had, I wasn’t ready for it to come to an end. I wanted to have more moments like this with Jack. I wanted to just be with him, to just enjoy our time together in a way we’d never quite been able to. God, I wanted him so much. Every single piece that he was willing to give me.

  After a while, my slow caresses on his stomach started traveling lower and lower. His hand on my back had traveled up to the bare skin of my neck. He was petting gently while occasionally squeezing and massaging. It was making me shiver while simultaneously making me incredibly hot.

  “Talia,” Jack said, his voice a warning.

  “No one’s around,” I murmured as I pushed myself so I was more draped over him, practically humping his leg. I could feel his hard length against my stomach, and I knew he wanted me as badly as I wanted him.

  I kissed him like I was starving for it. I dug my hands in his hair as our tongues met in a wet, heated embrace. The sun was beating down on my back, but I still shivered in the cool air and burrowed closer to Jack’s warmth. It was such a perfect moment and I was completely lost in it. I craved him with a fierce desperation. He tasted like champagne and caramel and Jack, and I was so turned on I was trembling. I knew, logically, that we were way too clothed and it was way too cold for us to take this any further, but I didn’t care. I moved against him, my mouth so intensely attached to his that I didn’t even know whose mouth was whose, whose tongue belonged in which mouth. I just wanted him. Needed him. Wanted to show him every single thing he made me feel even if I didn’t have the guts to tell him.

  I was overwhelmed with sensation. The dry suit I wore rubbed against my sensitized skin, and that, combined with the feelings and emotions swirling inside me, were making me whimper against his mouth.

  Jack moaned my name as we broke apart. I immediately moved my mouth to his neck, and he slid his hands down my back until he was gripping my ass in his big hands and shifting me so that I was straddling his waist.

  I wanted to feast on his skin, but I wanted his mouth more. I kissed him, grinding on his erection as I did, and Jack let out a choked groan and grabbed my hips to stop me.

  “Talia, we can’t do this here.”

  I bit his ear lobe, and he sucked in a breath.

  “Why not?” I gasped against his neck when he moved his hands down again so that they were wrapped around the backs of my thighs. Even through the layers I could feel his thumbs right beneath my mound. I was wet under all those layers, and I didn’t want to stop.

  “It’s freezing, and we can’t take off these clothes,” he panted as I licked a stripe down his neck. “And this is a public place. No one’s here now, but anyone could come.”

  “Who cares?”

  Our mouths met again, and our kiss intensified as he lifted his head to meet me lip for lip, tongue for tongue. He slid his hand up and down between my spread legs, and when I moaned loudly, he plopped his head down on the blanket.

  I was about to lean down and kiss him again, but he put his hands on my shoulders. He was panting, and his eyes were bright with desire when they met mine.

  “We have to stop,” he huffed.

  I looked at him for a few moments before I realized he definitely wasn’t going to let this happen. I knew he was right. I knew this wasn’t the place, but my lust-addled mind wasn’t really interested in reason.

  I pressed my forehead to the place where his neck met his shoulder. We laid there, both trying to calm our breathing and relax our libidos. Finally, Jack sat up and I climbed off him. He leaned back on his hands as I plopped on my back. He looked down at me with that intensity still in his eyes, and I bit my lip.

  “Why did I stop us again?”

  I sighed. “Because you’re trying to be practical.”

  Jack looked at his watch. “It’s only one o’clock. If we leave now we could make it back to your mom’s place while she’s still working.”

  We raced back to the beach. I used every bit of rowing skill Jack had taught me, and he obviously used his years of crew to get us back to the docking point in record time. But to both of our huge dismay, there was construction traffic on the highway that went back to my mom’s house. When we were about a half hour out, I was still convinced we would have time before my mom got home, but when she texted me, I groaned miserably.

  “‘Things are dead at the diner. Rosie’s going to close up. What do you say we go to North Hero for an early dinner?’” I read my mom’s text to Jack.

  He slammed his head against the headrest. “Fuck.”

  I laughed and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

  “Maybe next time, lover boy.”

  Since we were only about five or so minutes from North Hero, I told my mom to head down and we would meet her there since we were so close.

  A few minutes later, we were pulling into the gravel drive of a gorgeous little inn that was right on the water. Jack and I made out in the car for a few minutes before finally forcing ourselves out. Neither of us had changed back at the kayak place in our desperation to get home, so we went into the bathrooms at the inn and changed into normal clothes so we wouldn’t be at dinner looking crazy in dry suits.

  Jack wore jeans and a green Henley, and my heart pounded when I saw him. It was the same one he’d worn in the photo I’d seen of him and Rachel at Christmas a year ago. I wanted to rub myself all over it, mark my territory, so when he walked up to me, I wrapped him in a hug and snuggled close as we stood in the lobby waiting for my mom.

  “You look amazing,” he said into my hair. “You smell even better. Like sun and water and you.”

  It was the most romantic thing he could’ve said right then. My knees shook as I looked up at him. I was dressed pretty simply in a long turtleneck gray sweater, black leggings, and black ankle boots, but I loved that he liked the way I looked.

  Dinner with my mom and Jack was wonderful. I watched the two of them talk and laugh and get to know each other, and I savored the moment with two of my favorite people in the world. I was so unbelievably happy. I wanted to bottle up that evening, hold it close and never, ever forget it. It was as close to perfect as my life had ever been.

  After dinner at the inn, we all came back and watched a movie before going to sleep shortly after. I hadn’t realized how exhausted I would be from rowing all day, and that was the only thing that stopped me from wanting to fool around with Jack. The next morning, he’d massaged my sore arms, and since my mom was already at the diner, I tried to convince him to fuck me, but he kissed me hard before pushing up off the bed and telling me he’d promised my mom we’d come down for breakfast before he wanted to take me down to a petting zoo near South Hero.

  My mom’s house was tiny, and when Jack and I had been making out pretty heavily the next night, I’d heard my mom close one of her drawers from her bedroom and immediately pushed him off me. I hadn’t realized how thin the walls were until that moment, and I absolutely refused to let my mom hear me have sex.

  It was our fifth day in Vermont, and I’d wanted to stay in bed with Jack this morning so we could finally at least do something. But of course, I’d told my mom I’d help her down in the diner before she opened, and since we only had about a day and a half left before we headed back to the city, I wanted to make sure I spent as much of that time as I could with her.

  I loved helping my mom prepare to open up her diner in the morning when I came to visit. She started before the sun came up, and even though I was always tired, it was peaceful. It felt so right being here with her, helping her prep the place that had been her dream since I was little.

  She was checking the salt and pepper shakers while I filled a few of the syrup containers when she said, “I really like Jack, mija. He’s so sweet and funny. I love the way he looks at
you.”

  I could feel my face heat and my heart rate speed up. These past few days with Jack and my mom had been like a dream. I felt like I was in this cocoon of love and warmth. I loved seeing my mom and Jack talk and laugh and get to know each other. They would occasionally chat in Spanish, since he was much better than he’d originally let on when we were having our picnic, and one night after dinner, I overheard him talking to my mom in Spanish in the kitchen when they both thought I was still in the bathroom. He told her his dream was to start his own immigration law firm and help families make a better life for themselves in the states, and I lost a little bit more of myself to him.

  Jack fit in with me and my mom so seamlessly it was like he’d been around for years. And in the quiet moments when I would catch him looking at me, giving me that soft look that I’d only ever seen him give to me, I could almost imagine our lives in the future. Holidays visiting my mom, taking long walks and going for scenic drives, camping by Lake Champlain, but still excited to go back to the hustle and bustle of the city. For the first time since Vincent, I was imagining all those things I’d always secretly wanted. A friend, a companion, a lover, a partner. Someone to share everything with. Part of me was terrified to want those things because I knew how fragile this was. How fragile a relationship could be, how it could end on a dime when you least expected. But every day as Jack and I grew closer, I found myself imagining more and more. I wanted so much from him, with him, and it scared the hell out of me.

  “You’re quiet, mija.”

  “I know, ma.”

  “What’s wrong? Jack isn’t as great as he seems? He snores, doesn’t he?”

  I laughed and then sighed. “No, he’s probably even greater than he seems. I just… god, I really like him. I can see a future with him.” It was the first time I’d ever said that out loud.

  “Then what’s wrong?” When I didn’t answer my mom came to the counter where I was sitting and faced me while I stared at the syrup. “Is it about that boy?”

  I hated that she was right, hated that he still had an effect on me. “A little,” I said quietly.

  “That boy was a selfish prick who didn’t care about you at all,” my mom said firmly, putting her hand on my arm and squeezing gently. “Not all men are like that, mi amor. Many are kind and giving and loving, and any one of those men are the only ones who deserve you. Don’t you think Jack is one of those?”

  No. I didn’t think he was.

  I knew he was.

  “I see the way you look at him, too,” my mom said softly. “I see the love in your eyes. And baby, I’ve never seen you more happy.”

  I turned to her, my eyes welling with tears, and she opened her arms. I went into them willingly and she hugged me tightly.

  “Just let him in,” she whispered in my ear. “Let him love you.”

  Let him love you. What would it be like? To have Jack Harding love me? To give him the space to do so? Would things be different? Would I? I’d loved Vincent. As much as I wanted to pretend like I hadn’t, I did love him. It had been the love of a girl, the love of someone who had never loved anyone before, the love of someone who didn’t truly know what it was like to love someone and have them love you, but it was love all the same. I would’ve done anything for him, would’ve been anything he wanted me to be if only I could hold onto him. If only he would hold onto me. But now I knew, even if it had taken years, that love wasn’t about being who someone else wanted you to be. Love was about that other person bringing out the best in you. It was about their love amplifying all the good parts of you.

  I wanted to be that person for Jack, and I wanted him to be that person for me. It scared me to death that he might already be.

  When my mom and I pulled out of the hug, both of us were crying, and she laughed and wiped the tears off my face.

  “Look at us.”

  I let out a watery laugh just as the bell of the diner door tinkled. My mom turned—most likely to tell whoever it was that we weren’t open quite yet—just as I looked up.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “Talia.”

  “No, mom, what is he doing here?” I leapt up from my chair at the counter and took two steps toward him. “What are you doing here, Kenny?”

  “Talia, it’s so good to see you.”

  The man standing just inside the door was tall and broad-shouldered, a quarterback in his youth and someone who clearly worked out in his later years. He had dark hair peppered with gray at his temples and hazel eyes. He was wearing a flannel shirt and blue jeans, and I didn’t care what he was wearing because I wanted him gone.

  “Yeah, can’t say the same,” I spat.

  “Talia,” my mother hissed. She pulled me by my arm across the restaurant and around a corner where the storage closet was.

  “Mom, what the fuck is going on?”

  “Will you watch your mouth?” my mom breathed. “Sometimes he comes to visit when he’s traveling from New Haven to Montreal. We—”

  “So, what, you guys are like friends?” I could feel myself vibrating with anger, feeling this odd sense of betrayal from my mother while also desperately wanting to protect her.

  “Well—”

  “Oh, my god, mom, please tell me you aren’t seeing him?”

  “No,” she whispered forcefully. “Of course not. But he is a friend, yes.”

  “I’m going back to the house.”

  “Why don’t you say hi?” my mother beseeched. Her eyes were wide and searching my face. She looked like a deer caught in headlights. Like someone who had been caught in a lie but was trying to remedy it as quickly as possible. “I’m sure he’d love to talk to you after all these years.”

  “I’m sure he fucking would,” I said as I pushed past my mom and back out onto the floor. Kenny was still standing in the same spot, and at least he had the grace to look nervous, his hands shoved in his pockets.

  “Talia,” he said, looking up when he saw me approach.

  “I don’t know what your fucking end game is here, but I don’t want anything to do with it,” I said angrily. “And I want nothing to do with you, so excuse me.”

  “Talia, please. I’d really like to—”

  The door behind him opened again, and I was relieved but also terrified to see Jack pulling the door open. He looked gorgeous, his hair wet like he’d just gotten out of the shower and come down. I didn’t want him to know this part of my life.

  “Hey,” he said, looking confusedly between the three of us, the tension thick and obvious.

  “Come back to the house with me,” I said quickly, pushing past Kenny and putting my hand in Jack’s to pull him away. He looked at my mom briefly before he let me drag him out into the crisp autumn air.

  “Who was that guy?” he asked when we got back inside my mom’s little cottage.

  “That,” I said, pouring a cup of coffee and taking a huge swig before slamming the mug on the counter. “Was Kenneth Emery. My fucking father.”

  Chapter 19

  Jack sat on my mother’s plush couch as I paced the living room. He’d started a fire while I paced silently and then sat down and watched me.

  God, why was Kenny here? It had been such a nice week until he showed up and ruined it, just like he always did.

  I felt like I was thirteen again, waiting for him to come when he never did. And when he would actually come, all I could think about was that I had no clue when I would see him again. Because that’s what Kenny did. He’d spent my entire childhood flitting in and out of my and my mother’s life. He was the first person who’d taught me that men didn’t stay. Not when something better came along, not when they just couldn’t be bothered anymore. And like an idiot, I’d thought Vince was different. Vince. The second man who’d broken my heart.

  Kenny was the first.

  I thought Vince would be the one who showed me that men could be different. Instead, all he did was show me more of the same.

  He'd done to me exactly wh
at Kenny had done to my mother.

  “Talia.”

  I stopped pacing and looked at Jack. He looked calm, but I could see the faint nervousness in his eyes. I knew he didn’t know what to say, but I also knew he wanted to know what the hell was going on.

  I stood there, staring at him, and he stared back at me, unwavering. In that moment, all I wanted in the entire world was to go to him. To be in his arms while he held me and I told him about Kenny. But seeing my father after more than a decade had made my skin itchy. It reminded me exactly why I couldn’t give myself to Jack the way I knew I wanted to.

  What would it be like to let him love me? What would it be like to watch him walk away?

  “Fuck, I can’t do this.”

  “Talia, talk to me, please.”

  “I…” I looked around frantically, not even sure what I was looking for. “I have to go.”

  I started walking toward the guest room to grab the keys to the rental car, my hands trembling as I did.

  I couldn’t find them when I got into the room, and I could feel my heart rate picking up. Get out, get out, get out. It was all I could think as I searched. When I saw Jack standing in the doorway, my voice was almost a yell when I said, “Where are the keys to the rental?”

  I yanked back the covers on the bed—the bed that still smelled like him, like us—and I was about to ask him again when I heard the jangle. I whipped around, and Jack was still standing in the same place, holding the keys in the palm of his upturned hand.

  When I walked toward him, he closed his fingers around the keys, and I glared at him.

  “Give me the keys.”

  “I’ll drive you,” he responded simply.

  I wanted to scream in frustration. “Jack, give me the fucking keys.”

  “Talia, I’m not letting you drive when you’re like this, and I don’t care how mad that makes you. I’ll drive you wherever you need to go. I won’t even say a single word if you don’t want me to, but I’m not letting you go alone.” He had a hard, determined look on his face as we glared at each other. And a few moments later, he softened a bit. “Talia.”