Awake: Book 3 of the Wild Love Series

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Awake: Book 3 of the Wild Love Series Page 9

by Jameson, Red L.


  “Oh, Jesus.” Bit sighs. “I’m not so sure about the oatmeal now.”

  Joe chuckles. “Always liked you, Bit.”

  “Yeah, well, I hated to like you too.”

  Joe’s swaying our bodies side to side, and I catch sight of the clock above Bit’s shoulder.

  “God, it’s nearly ten.” I look back at Joe. “Your mom is probably wondering where you are.”

  Bit snorts a laugh.

  Joe frowns. “Nah.”

  “Yes.” I nod. “And I need to check on her, after…after everything.”

  Joe groans. “All right.” He lets me go, but then snatches me by the wrist once more, holding me in place. “Say, Bit,” he says, but he’s looking at me, his eyes narrowing. “Moira, pretty Moira, doesn’t want me to say anything to my mom about us. What do you think about that?”

  She shrugs, playing with a crumb on the counter. “None of my business. And my crush is none of your business. Don’t do a thing. Or I’ll kill you.”

  Joe smiles at me. “She’s feisty in the morning.”

  I shake my head at him. “Like you aren’t? Showing up at the door with your jeans unbuttoned?”

  He smiles wider then leans around me to talk to Bit. “See, Moira thought you were my mom, coming to look for me, or to strangle her, and she’s making me promise not to say a word to my mom about us.”

  “When you make a promise, Joseph, you should keep it.”

  Joe leans down, his smile growing hard as he gazes at me. “I’ll keep it.” There’s a warning flashing through his gray eyes. “For now.”

  9

  Eva’s house is quiet and cool. Sometime in the night or this morning, she’d shut the windows and cranked her air-conditioner to its ultimate. Her house is also dark, all the shades and blinds closed, even though it’s not quite noon and the summer’s blare is already making the sidewalk melt. This is not like Eva, who is similar to me in that she worships the sun.

  To make it seem like we hadn’t had sex all night, Joe went to his mother’s house ten minutes before I arrived. He’d rolled his eyes at me and the suggestion to go first, and my heart pitter-pattered like there was no tomorrow. Not at the eye rolling. Oh, maybe a little at that. He’s so handsome that even eye rolling is somehow sexy. But my heart palpitations were more congruent with the fact that Joe seems to think we’re in an instant relationship.

  Here’s what I find the oddest thing about that: me. With Tony’s fidelity issues and not feeling like I’m of much value other than as a mom, I would think that I’d dive head first into an instant relationship. Especially with a gorgeous, sexy man like Joe. But I’m not diving.

  I’m scared.

  And why does Joe, a young twenty-five-year-old beautiful man want to be with me? A thirty-three-year-old woman who has two kids?

  Without knocking, which isn’t like me, but I’m nervous enough to do all sorts of odd things, I enter the house, hearing murmurs on the second floor and head up the stairs.

  Once moving, I start thinking. Maybe Joe is a player. Bit hinted at his checkered past with women. What if his new play is to be the instant-relationship guy who just happens to lose my number after he’s gotten what he wanted?

  I don’t know. Did we make love last night? Is that terribly old-fashioned of me to think? Or was he merely fucking me?

  Actually, I was on top every time we had sex. So was I fucking him?

  I swallow down my thoughts, hoping no trace of my sex life shows when I talk to Eva. Hearing Joe’s soft whispers to his mother in her room make my already racing heart do even more circus performances. The other problem I have is that I like Joe. A lot. I like his sense of humor. I like how we played. I like how he lets me take control. I even liked it when he took control, chasing me around the house and stealing very-willing kisses from me.

  God, I need to stop thinking about Joe.

  Eva’s door is open and I can hear Joe saying, “Need a Tylenol or something?”

  “I don’t think I can handle that, sweetie. But thanks.”

  “Knock, knock,” I say, feeling foreign and ashamed. But wanting to know how Eva is doing outweighs this guilt that’s holding my hand and wanting me to run from the scene.

  “Moira?” Eva’s voice is soft and fragile.

  I finally push through my shame and walk into the room, almost stunned into a stupor when I see Joe standing a few feet from the foot of Eva’s bed, which she’s still in. His head is bowed. He’s frowning. A worry line appearing between his dark blond brows. But he’s so big and beautiful. Somehow I forgot that in the few minutes I hadn’t been with him. I forgot how much I feel pulled to him, how much I want to hear him talk—talk about anything. And I forgot how much my body responds to him, my breasts feeling full, heavy, my sex suddenly aching.

  God.

  I force myself to look away from the sun that is Joe, after all he is blinding me from what I came here to do, and glance down at my friend. In the night, she’d changed into pajamas and washed her face. She’s still lovely, but the blue half-moons under her eyes, the pained way she’s smiling at me…god, my friend is hurting.

  I rush to her and sit at her side. “What can I do?”

  “Is it that bad?”

  I smile as I hold her hand. “You’re still gorgeous, silly woman. You just look…”

  Eva’s smile widens. “You’ll never finish that thought, will you?”

  “Probably not.” I hold her hand tighter. “Besides, you saw me when I got strep last winter, taking care of my kids when I had a fever. I’m sure I was super scary to look at.”

  She shakes her head. “Joseph, Moira is a liar. She was gorgeous when she had a fever. It’s truly not fair. Even her bed head is pretty.”

  “I’d bet.”

  Oh, how I want to turn and look at him. I can feel his eyes on me, that feeling of heat like his gaze is his hands, touching me. But I’m not ready to tell his mother, my friend, that I’m having sex with him. I may never be ready for that, actually.

  Eva’s smile wanes.

  “You’re still beautiful.” I tug her hand, ensuring she looks at me because I’m not sure what Joe’s doing, if he’s being transparent that he spent hours inside my body last night.

  She smiles with one side of her lips. Joe’s move. And my heart crushes itself realizing where he got that grin.

  “How are you feeling?”

  She shrugs. “Like shit.”

  I wince. “Want me to make you some eggs?”

  She wrinkles her nose. “Don’t want to eat. Not yet. Especially not eggs. Ick. Sounds terrible with the wine and tequila I had last night.”

  I smile at my drinking buddy, guilt washing over me. I haven’t told her I think I drink too much and have gone to AA. I haven’t told her so much. And I don’t know how, worried she might think less of me, worried I could lose her friendship.

  Now, before I lecture myself about what kind of friend she’d be if she dumped me for no longer drinking, let me just say I haven’t had a real friend in…years. Even in the small town I was born and raised, I felt like an outsider. I remember my friends making fun of my father’s accent. Sometimes my mother’s too. I would often use the wrong preposition in my speech because my father didn’t know the right one. My dad ran and owned the local grocery store, but no one seemed to care that everyone’s food was purchased through my family. I always felt left out. I had a few friends, but I knew amongst them I was the odd man out. I’d be called last. Or not at all.

  In college, I had a roommate who I got close to. But once I started dating Tony, she…well, I think she saw through him better than I did. She didn’t like him. And I loved him. Becky and I stopped being roommates then stopped talking. I still miss her.

  That’s why having a friend means so much. Eva means the world to me.

  “I’ll get you a washcloth.” I glance at the nightstand, noting the one I put there last night is gone.

  She clutches onto my hand. “No, I—” She glances around me.
“Honey, can I talk to Moira for a bit? Go hang out with your little friends in town. I’m sure they’ll be happy you’re back.”

  “I don’t have any friends in town. Well, maybe one. Now.” His voice softened for that last word, and I’m not sure Eva heard it.

  But I did.

  She rolls her eyes. “Joseph, you were one of the most popular boys in your high school. You have friends everywhere who want to know how you’re doing.”

  “Mom, high school was…a long time ago. Some of us have changed.”

  Eva scowls. “I know that. I’m just saying—”

  The front door slams, interrupting her.

  “Mom?” Shane’s voice calls out.

  Eva rolls her eyes yet again. “I can’t yell. My head is aching. Joey, can you yell to your brother that I’m up here?”

  “She’s up here.” Joe’s voice booms through the house.

  Eva clenches her eyes closed, fingering her temple. “God, my head.”

  “I’ll get you that washcloth.” I try to stand.

  Eva holds me still again. “But I want to talk to you.”

  God, she knows. Even though I changed my clothes, Joe hadn’t. What if he smells like me? Did Eva figure it out?

  “I’ll be right back.” I squeeze her hand. “I promise.”

  She smiles and I run to her bathroom, fetching another washcloth and some aspirin. With some lemonade, she could probably keep it down. That’s a trick I figured out when Liv was still a baby. Lemons got me through the nausea of pregnancy, and it helped me when I’d drink too much the night before too. And, no, I never drank when I was pregnant. However, and, god, I’m ashamed to admit this, I didn’t breastfeed for very long. I switched to the bottle when my babies were a few months’ old. Selfish mother? Yes. Fuck, I hate that about myself.

  As I’m wondering where the fuck from my thoughts came from, I stumble out of the bathroom. Shane was talking in a hushed tone, looking serious and maybe angry too. When he sees me, he shuts up and glances down my body. I’m wearing cutoff jeans and an old t-shirt a few sizes too big for me. I’d purposely dressed down in the hopes Eva won’t think I’ve seduced her son. It made a hell of a lot more sense in my head when I was dressing.

  Shane’s probably wondering just how much of a hick I am, so I ignore him and walk back to Eva’s bed, sitting beside her. Before I can put the washcloth on her, she shakes her head, her eyes filling with tears.

  She glances beyond me to her sons. “Yes, I know your father’s planning to marry her.”

  “Moira knows too?” Shane derisively snorts. I really don’t want to turn and see what kind of face he’s making at my back. “When were you going to tell us?” His voice is clipped. He might not be yelling, but his rage is noticeable all the same.

  “It’s not my news to tell.” Eva shrugs.

  “But you’re not even divorced,” Joe says.

  Eva shrugs again, looking tired.

  “How are you going to stop it?” Now Shane is very close to yelling.

  “Me?” Eva points at her chest.

  “Yes, you.” Shane’s screaming, making Eva cringe and touch her head all the more.

  Eva coughs a dry laugh. “There’s nothing I can do, Shane. I—”

  “Why did you—why—?” Shane’s struggling for words, his voice cracking. “You ruined—”

  For whatever reason, and I know I shouldn’t interfere with family business, but I can’t let Shane finish that sentence. I know it would crush Eva.

  I look over my shoulder. “You don’t know that.”

  Shane’s golden brown eyes zero in on me. “Yes, I do.”

  “You haven’t walked in her shoes. You don’t know—”

  Shane snorts a sarcastic laugh. “Why on earth are you defending her?”

  I stand, feeling the urge to smack Shane, maybe flick him on his forehead.

  “Of all people, you?” His powerful arms are waving around, and Joe takes one of them by the wrist, frowning at his brother.

  Shane shakes his head, taking his arm from Joe and pointing at me. “Her husband cheated on her and yet she’s defending a cheater herself.”

  I feel cold from my heart to the very base of my stomach.

  “Shut the fuck up, man.” Joe’s voice is soft, but the look on his face is anything but.

  I glance down at Eva, my heart breaking. “You told him?”

  Shane laughs again. “God, Moira, everyone in town knows about your husband.”

  Joe steps closer to his brother, clenching onto his blue t-shirt with a huge fist. “I said, shut the fuck up.” He pushes Shane, who stumbles backward.

  “Yes, goddamn it,” Eva shouts. “I ruined everything, Shane. I ruined my marriage with your father. Happy? And, no, Moira, I never told Shane about your ex, and he is very much an ex, not an existing husband, which I’m glad of because he doesn’t deserve you. I don’t deserve you. You’re a wonderful friend who defends me when I—You’re a wonderful friend. Now, Shane apologize to my wonderful friend.”

  I blink down at Eva, feeling a tad less humiliated that she hadn’t said anything to her sons about Tony. But the mortification comes back full force when I realize just how much I’ve been the center of gossip, thanks to Tony’s dick. God, I hate that man’s dick.

  “Shit,” Shane whispers, making me reluctantly look up at him. He’s shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Moira. I’m so sorry. I—I’m mad and you—shit, worse apology ever. I’m sorry.”

  I’m a little surprised to hear Shane say something so…genuine? He seems earnestly shamefaced and keeps shaking his head, his hands reaching out toward me.

  I nod and look away, back at Eva. “It’s okay.”

  “Joseph, don’t swear and don’t push your brother.” Eva sighs. “Say you’re sorry to Shane.”

  “No,” Shane says quickly. “No, I was being a dick to Moira. I—I’m sorry.”

  “But not sorry to your mother.” Eva purses her lips. Then she rolls her eyes. “Look, honey, I get it. You blame me for this divorce. And maybe you’re right. But it’s me that has to deal with it. You boys are adults now—”

  Shane growls. “Yes, fine. We’re all adults now. So that means we can’t interfere with each other’s lives. May as well write each other off, right?”

  Eva inhales for what seems like forty minutes. “I don’t mean that.”

  Shane inhales too, and it sounds almost identical to Eva’s, only masculine and maybe a tad more frustrated. “I don’t know what I mean,” he says. “I know I should let you and dad duke this out on your own. But I can’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  Eva smiles. “Nothing’s wrong with my baby. Nothing’s wrong with you at all. This is—hard. No matter how old we all are.” She smiles at me. “Probably hardest for Moira who’s been a saint about watching our screaming match. You boys know she has a no-screaming rule in her house? Isn’t she a wonderful mother? Can I have some privacy with my friend, please?”

  Joe and Shane make some grunting noises. As I glance back at them, they’re both looking at me. I’m surprised Joe defended me the way he did. I’m even more surprised Shane seems genuinely sorry for saying what he had, but I’m still hurt to know how many people know of my personal business. What surprises me the most, as I’m gazing at them, is how both men are looking at me similarly. There’s something passing through Shane’s eyes that’s like the way Joe’s regarding me, as if he wants to say more, as if what that more is has nothing to do with Eva.

  But they both leave.

  And I turn back to my friend, wondering if somehow she does know I slept with Joe. God, of all the times to show a lack of restraint, why did it have to be with Joe?

  10

  I’m shaking and trying to control it when Eva smiles at me.

  “Did they leave?” she whispers.

  I look over my shoulder. It’s hard to see the bedroom door because of the way her en suite bathroom and walk-in closet are located, but I lean back and think the door is cl
osed.

  Nodding, I return my gaze at her, squeezing her hands.

  Her eyes instantly fill with tears that spill down her pale cheeks. “I don’t know if I can do this. Keep being their mom while my heart is breaking. I—I don’t know—I don’t want to see them. I can’t keep being strong when I just want to fall apart.”

  I nod and caress the tops of her hands.

  More tears fall and I try to catch them with the washcloth as she says, “I don’t need to fall apart for long, but just…can you give me this weekend to be a mess?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Can you make sure my boys are doing something, staying away from me, just until your kids come back? I mean, Joe will want to come back tonight. I don’t know where Shane’s been staying this summer. Did Joe even stay here last night? Did he find some floozy already?”

  I try desperately hard not to wince at that.

  She continues. “Could you talk them into staying with their friends or at a hotel tonight? I’m sorry to ask this of you, I just…I don’t have the strength to keep going around with Shane. I’m sorry he said those things to you. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, other than he’s not handling the divorce well. But, shit, I’m not either.”

  I shrug. “He’s just hurting.”

  Eva catches my hand. “I don’t know how you did it. Do it. With such grace.”

  I snort a laugh. “Grace? Come on. You know me better than that by now.”

  She shakes her head. “I do know you better. You handled Tony and your divorce with so much decorum. Meanwhile, I emotionally blackmail my husband to talk with me when I’m supposed to be having a party.”

  I look up at the ceiling. “I drink too much and never say what I should. Oh, if Tony was in my head, though, man, he’d feel skinned alive with the things I wish I could say to him but never do.”

  Eve’s smile turns sad. “I—I don’t know how I’m going to get through this.”

  “You will, Eva. You’re strong.”

  “Shane’s right. I ruined my marriage.”

  I sip in a breath, shaking my head. “You don’t know—”

 

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