by Laura Drewry
“Okay,” she said, trying to sound light yet somehow ending up sounding tight and brittle. “No boogeyman here, I’m good.”
“All right then. I’ll see you later.”
Nodding, Maya tipped her face up a little so he could kiss her cheek, but the closer he got, the harder it was not to turn toward him. And when he hesitated, even though it couldn’t have been more than a fraction of a second, she had to look down, to close her eyes, to breathe.
With the crook of his finger, he eased her face back up, haltingly, as though he was just as terrified as she was, but that couldn’t be possible. Why couldn’t she stop blinking so fast? And why wasn’t he blinking at all? His velvety eyes moved over her face slowly, like it was the first time he’d ever seen her. Every passing second made her pulse race faster, her heart pound harder, and her muscles crumble, until she had to wrap her fingers around his bent arm to keep her balance.
Swallowing hard, he licked his lips and leaned in closer, his gaze locked on hers.
“You’re killing me here, Snip. I…” Blowing out a low breath, he pulled his hand away and stepped back. “I should go.”
Head down, he took another step back, his eyes now fixed on the ground, sending Maya into a full-on scramble. She didn’t want him to back up, didn’t want him to walk away from her right then, and if she didn’t do something quick, that’s exactly what was going to happen.
She shouldn’t kiss him; if she had any decency in her, she’d let him keep walking and they’d just keep things the way they’d been going. It wasn’t what either of them wanted, but if they took this any further…
Screw it! Why should she give the first shit what the Carsons thought?
She wanted Jack, but it was more than that, and no matter how hard she’d tried to deny it since talking to Jayne and Nick last night, there was no getting around it. It didn’t make sense and yet…oh jeez…it was the only thing that did make sense. She loved Jack. No, she didn’t just love him, she was in love with him, and nothing else should matter, not the Carsons, not Griffin Carr, nothing. And no one.
Oh God.
Okay, one of two things was going to happen here: Either he’d kiss her back and everything would be…wow…or he’d bolt. There’d be no middle ground on this and she had to move fast before he took one more step away from her.
On trembling knees, she closed the distance between them, then hesitated a second when he looked down at her like that, so sure, yet so very, very tortured. Fat raindrops ran down both of their faces, sliding off the end of his nose and weighing down her eyelashes, but neither of them made any move to wipe them away.
His mouth was open, just slightly, and his broad chest heaved in and out with each breath. She set her hands flat against him, the thundering of his heart beneath her touch pushing her on, coaxing her hands up higher.
She slid them up around his neck, smiling a little when she saw his Adam’s apple bob so hard, pushed herself up on tiptoes, and gazed into his eyes for a whole second before she finally kissed him.
Not a tentative shy kiss, either. Hells to the no with that. If this was going to be the only kiss she got from him, she was going to make it count, and that wasn’t easy, being as short as she was. Her toes and calves cramped, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was the feel of his mouth on hers, the way his lips were stronger and softer than she imagined, the way he tasted like rain, and how for that one moment, nothing else mattered.
When he set his hands on her waist she thought he might push her away, but then his fingers curled into her as he growled and lifted her straight up so she didn’t have to reach anymore.
“Thank God,” she murmured, smiling against his mouth. “My toes were killing me.”
“Snip.”
Wrapping her legs around his waist, she locked her ankles together and took his rain-soaked face between her hands, but before she kissed him again, she had to at least give him the chance to end it right there before they took it another step further.
“You know what I want,” she whispered, her voice thick. “But you’re the one who has to live with the consequences, Jack, so if you’re going to walk away from me, please do it now, and please do it quick.”
He stared down at her for a long time, a silent but very real war raging behind his eyes, and when he finally sighed and leaned his forehead against hers, she almost cheered, but the bubble burst in her throat when his hands slid along the length of her legs, around his back, and slowly unhooked her ankles.
Maya slid down the length of him until her toes touched the ground, and the second they did, she let him go and stumbled back a couple steps, fighting for balance. God, she was stupid. What did she think he was going to do? It had been, what, eight or nine hours since he told her why he was the way he was with the Carsons. Did she really think that was going to change?
“I’m sorry.” It took a couple tries but she finally managed to croak out the words. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m…I’m so sorry. “
He reached out his hand, but she shrunk back. “Maya.”
“It’s fine.” Thank God for the rain running down her face, it made great camouflage for the tears she couldn’t stop. She did manage to smile, though, big and bright and painful as all hell. “Don’t worry, Jack, it’ll all be fine. We had a good day, didn’t we? For the most part, I mean, you know, not the part where you told me…Well, yeah, okay. I’ll see you…later, I guess. Okay? Okay. “
Without a single glance back, she walked straight inside, locked the door behind her, and stumbled up the stairs, not slowing down until she’d changed out of her wet clothes, had dried her eyes three times, and was standing there staring at the boxes of tea clutched in her hands.
Great freakin’ time to be out of wine.
The day had been pretty much perfect right until she screwed it up. He’d spent four years not touching her, not kissing her, not even telling her how he felt, and it had helped build an amazing friendship between them until she’d bulldozed her way into it, basically told him she wanted to jump his bones, and then, yeah…pretty much doing just that.
The kettle boiled and cooled twice as she stood there trying to come up with someone to blame for her misery. All she wanted was to spend the next fifty or sixty years with Jack—and at least half of that time she’d like for them to be naked—was that too much to ask for? Apparently it was because instead of getting naked with him, she was standing in her kitchen in her oversized nightshirt, tights, and wool socks trying to choose between Lemon Zinger and Darjeeling.
It wasn’t right and someone needed to be blamed, but who?
Jack? He’d been tortured and bullied to the point he thought he was going to die before the Carsons came along, so the only thing she could blame him for was having such an infuriating sense of loyalty. And, okay, it was his fault he was so freakin’ adorable that she couldn’t think about anything else most of the time.
Will? Of course she could blame Will—she blamed him for pretty much everything anyway, but this time it actually was partly his fault. If he hadn’t pushed his way between her and Jack at that stupid Hawaiian party, things might have been different. Maybe.
If she was going to blame Will, though, she’d have to shoulder some of the blame herself, too. She could have told him to piss off that night at the party, she could have finished her drink with Jack, but she didn’t, because she’d been so caught up with how good-looking and charming Will was. Served her right.
Genie Carson? Damn right she’d blame her for some of this. She might have “saved” Jack, but what kind of woman lorded that over a grown man the way she had at the rehearsal dinner? Mostly, though, Maya blamed the little shitheads who’d tortured Jack so badly. It all started with them.
And so help her if she ever met up with one of them.
—
It was almost midnight when Jack pulled into Genie’s driveway. Way too late to be arriving at anyone’s house, but he’d called her from the road and woken her up
, so she was already holding the door open in her white fluffy slippers and matching robe when he arrived.
“Jack, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Come in out of the rain.”
Aside from the overstuffed La-Z-Boy in the corner, the living room hadn’t changed much in the twenty years Jack had known it, and neither had Genie, not really. Okay, maybe she didn’t have skin like those women in the Olay commercials anymore, but she was still a fine-looking woman and having just celebrated her sixty-fifth birthday, there was no doubt she’d outlive all those Olay models anyway.
“What can I get you?” She pulled her long blond braid forward and twisted the end, a sure sign she was worried. “Coffee? A beer?”
“No, nothing,” he said, a little surprised at how tired his voice sounded. “Thanks. I just, uh, I just need to tell you something.”
On wooden legs, he stumbled over to Burt’s chair and plunked himself down before he fell.
“Good grief, what is it? Is it Will? Tammy?” Genie’s hands flew to her chest as she sank down on the couch. “Are they okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, God, sorry, Genie, they’re fine. Everyone’s fine. This is…it’s me.”
“Okay, well whatever it is, boy, just say it. You’re scaring the bejeezus out of me.”
He was scaring the bejeezus out of himself, too. If he couldn’t make Genie understand, he was going to have to choose one or the other and the thought of doing that made him want to puke. In fact, where was that…okay, good…she still kept the small trash bin next to Burt’s chair. The man had been dead for three years, but the bin stayed right there just in case someone else wanted to pick up where he’d left off, sitting in his chair, shelling pistachios, and yelling at either the Canucks or the Lions, depending on what time of year it was.
Jack’s heart was racing just as fast as it did the first time he’d walked through her door, terrified she’d send him away.
For fuck sake, man up, you’re not fourteen anymore.
“Right.” He inhaled a long breath then exhaled slowly. “Okay. Genie. I owe you everything, we both know that, and no matter what happens here, I’ll always be grateful for what you and Burt did for me. I don’t expect you to understand this or support me, but I have to tell you, because it’s killing me and you deserve to know before I—”
“Ohmygod, it’s about Maya.”
“What?!” It took him a good couple of seconds to pick his jaw up from where it hung—he’d have sworn it hit the floor—and all the while Genie just kept shaking her head.
“Oh, Jack, sweetie, I’ve been hoping and praying for so long that you’d gotten over her.”
“That I what?”
“I really thought you had, too, you know. I mean, after that whole mess with Will and her, I thought for sure we’d seen the last of you, but you stood by him, and you never once said anything about her, so I just thought…”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Watch your language.”
Jack buried his face in his hands and tried to even out his breathing before looking up at her again. “You knew?”
“Of course I knew, sweetheart. I knew the first time you and Will brought her home.” She scooted down so she was closer to him, close enough to take his hands in hers. “What I never knew was why you didn’t say something.”
“Why I—?” he choked. “Because she was Will’s, and because Will’s your son and I owed you. Why didn’t you say something?”
A wave of guilt crashed over Genie’s face. She stared down at the floor for a few seconds before finally meeting his gaze again.
“He’s my son, Jack, and I love him more than anything, but his choice in women up to that point wasn’t exactly stellar, so when he showed up with Maya…” She trailed off over a slow shrug. “God help me, I wanted them to work out so badly, I’d have done just about anything, which you already know. And I’m so very sorry about that, Jack.”
“What do I already know? What are you talking about?”
“I never wanted this day to come, Jack. Not ever.”
Genie pinched her lips together, then got up and left the room, returning a couple seconds later with a box of tissues, a few of which she already had pressed under her eyes.
“I knew how you felt, not only about Maya, but about us, Burt and me. We didn’t ever mean for you to feel so indebted to us, especially after what you did for Burt but you never seemed to get past it, and…” Choking on a short sob, she grabbed some more tissues and balled them up under her nose. “I took advantage of that, Jack, and I’m so, so sorry.”
“What I did for Burt?” Jack leaned closer to her, so his butt was barely on the chair anymore, but when he tried to pull her hands down, she jerked them away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but whatever it is, I’m sure—”
“The rehearsal dinner! Oh my God, Jack, I’m so sorry. I knew what happened at Will’s bachelor party. I heard you yelling at him about it, and I was desperate. If Maya found out, she’d never have married him, and we all knew she was the best thing that ever happened to him.”
She stopped to blow her nose as the truth started to twist inside Jack’s stomach.
“I needed to make sure you didn’t have a moment of conscience with her, so I said that horrible thing about how if it…if it wasn’t for us, you’d…you’d probably be in jail and that…that you owed us.”
The sob that ripped out of Genie’s throat almost tore Jack in half.
“I didn’t mean it, Jack. I didn’t. I was just so worried something would happen between the rehearsal and the wedding, and I knew you always felt like you owed us, so I used that. I used it to push you down and I’m so sorry.”
Dumbfounded, Jack slid completely off the chair and landed on the floor with his legs stretched out under the coffee table.
“You knew?” Jack couldn’t have moved if he wanted to; it was like his limbs were boneless. “All this time, you knew.”
Genie pinched her lips together again, nodding slowly. “I kept hoping you’d find someone else, like that nice girl, Christine. Why couldn’t you just love her, Jack? She was so sweet, and smart and…and…”
“She wasn’t Maya.”
“Oh, Jack. I’m so sorry.” She hiccuped over another sob. “Does Will know?”
Jack shook his head numbly. “No. He knows I’ve seen her a few times, but he doesn’t know…this.”
He’d have to tell Will, but first…shit…first he needed to find a way to wrap his head around this, and he wasn’t entirely sure he could do that sitting there on her living room floor.
“You’ve never owed us anything, Jack.”
He must have given her quite a look, because a whole fresh batch of tears started before she said anything else.
“Will mentioned you a couple times to us, but it wasn’t until he told us how often you showed up at school with black eyes and stitches that we started asking questions. We didn’t know you were in the system, not at first, but then…” She swallowed hard and dabbed her eyes. “I had no idea Burt had been in foster care. He’d told me his parents died when he was young, but he wouldn’t talk about anything after that. There was a whole block of his life I knew nothing about until he found out about you.”
When Jack looked at her that time, she just shook her head.
“Will and Tammy still don’t know and he made me swear to never tell them what he went through, but when Will told us you were in a group home, Burt couldn’t get you out of there fast enough.” Genie nodded slowly, licking her lips. “There was so much paperwork, which of course there should be, but by the time it all went through and they finally brought you here…”
She didn’t have to finish, because Jack remembered it crystal clear. He’d walked into their house with his right arm in a cast, his left in a sling, and the last green shades of a bruise under his eye. And Burt had stood there almost vibrating, because he knew. He knew what Jack had been through because he’d probably had the same thing happen to him.
�
��He had to get you out of there, Jack, not just for you, but for him. I don’t know how to explain it except to say that by saving you from another day there, it was like you saved him from another day there. He was a completely different man after you got here, like he’d been drowning and you saved him.”
No. No, that couldn’t be right. Burt saved Jack; he hadn’t done anything for Burt besides eat all his food and rack up the electric bill.
“Genie, I don’t—” He stopped, closed his eyes, and shook his head. “I don’t even know what to say right now.”
“I’m sure you’re furious with me and I don’t blame you.” Her cheeks looked drawn as she nodded down at her hands twisting around the wad of tissues. “What can I do to make this right for you?”
Furious? That was only one of the things he was right then. He was also confused, blindsided, and torn between feeling such deep loyalty for Burt while feeling so betrayed by Genie.
“Jack?” Genie’s pinched voice jarred him back, making him focus on the living room. “Please let me make this right.”
“How?” He blew out a snorting breath as he let his head drop back against the chair. “How are we ever going to make this right? The whole thing is fu—screwed up.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “And I probably have no right to ask this, but please, Jack, please wait until after the wedding to tell Will.”
She had to be shittin’ him.
Lifting his head off the chair, he scrubbed his hands over his face. “This isn’t about Will anymore, Genie.”
“I know.” She stuffed the used tissues in her robe pocket and reached for a clean one. “But he’s my son, Jack. I need for him to be happy and I think maybe Stella—”
Jack was already on his feet and heading for the door. The last thing he heard before the door slammed behind him was Genie sobbing.
Chapter 13
“Seven…seven…seven…”
Monica Geller, Friends, “The One with Phoebe’s Uterus”
Maya’s attempt to sleep had lasted about six and a half minutes before she threw the blankets off and went to scrub the bathroom. When that was done, she reorganized the cutlery drawer, because…well, why not? Ellie would have had a stroke if she knew Maya kept big spoons with the small ones or that the steak knives weren’t all facing the same way, but now they could all rest easy, because everything was as it should be.