by Helen Lacey
Jake met Mitch’s stare and shrugged. “We don’t all get a perfect happily-ever-after, and I’m not willing to—”
“Put yourself out there?” Mitch suggested and raised a brow.
“Settle,” Jake supplied and shrugged. “But if you must know, I actually have a date tomorrow night. At least, I think it’s a date.”
“With who?” Joss asked the obvious question.
“Abby,” he replied and shrugged again. He saw that his three brothers were staring at him incredulously. “Don’t look so shocked. I volunteered to teach her kid to snowboard. Then she invited me over for dinner.”
Mitch made a surprised face. “And how do you feel about that?”
His mouth twitched. “I don’t really know. Abby and I have history, and not all of it is good. She married my best friend, remember?”
“Because you left town,” Joss reminded him.
“I know,” he remarked and then took a long breath. “I guess, back then, I thought she’d wait. Stupid, huh?”
“You mean being young and in love and hopeful?” Mitch remarked and shrugged lightly. “Not really. I think back then we all believed you and Abby would end up together.”
“You guys were the perfect couple in high school,” Joss said and grinned. “The good girl and the bad boy...it was like a romance movie in the making.”
Memory swirled around in his head, and he grimaced at his brother’s amused words. But the truth was, back then he had believed he and Abby would go the distance. He knew she didn’t want to be a soldier’s wife, but he’d been sure their relationship was strong enough to get past her grief from losing her dad at such a young age. Killed by friendly fire in Desert Storm, Colin Reed had died when Abby was three years old and her mom never recovered from the loss of her beloved husband. Despite Jake assuring her how unlikely it would be that he would be injured, or worse, she wasn’t swayed. So they broke up. And months later she was dating his best friend.
“Nothing’s that perfect,” he said quietly.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Joss mused. “Lara and I never had a serious misunderstanding the whole time we were together.”
“That’s because Lara was a saint,” Hank said and laughed. “She had to be to put up with you. You’d need a saint, too,” he said and looked at Jake.
Jake smiled to himself, uneasy and slightly amused at the idea he was the object of his brother’s teasing banter. His siblings were a tight unit, and he’d often felt excluded from their good-natured rivalry and dissing. His own fault, of course, since he’d stayed away for so long. But now he was back, albeit temporarily, he liked the idea of getting to know them all better and being a part of their lives.
“So, is this like a romantic date? The kind that you bring flowers to?” Joss asked and grinned.
“No,” Jake replied. “I’m pretty sure it’s just about her kid.”
Joss nodded and looked at him intensely for a moment. “I think he’s in Sissy’s advanced math class.”
Joss’s eldest daughter was eleven. Jake frowned. “Is he a math prodigy?”
His brother shrugged. “Don’t know. Just a smart kid, from all accounts. But a handful, I believe.”
Jake could believe it. “Well, Tom was a smart guy.”
Mitch made a face. “Didn’t you used to do his math homework?”
Funny, he’d forgotten that. “Sometimes. He used to miss classes because of his allergies. And you remember how his parents were? Nice people, but they had high expectations.”
“At least they cared,” Hank said and laughed humorlessly, and suddenly they were all remembering Billie-Jack and his bad parenting.
“Anyone know where he is?” Joss asked.
Jake shook his head. “Don’t know, don’t care.”
“I think Grant knows,” Mitch said of their youngest brother.
“As long as he’s not in Cedar River,” Hank said, harsher than usual.
Mitch raised his coffee mug. “Here’s to being a better human being than the old man.”
They all followed suit, and once the coffee was finished, Jake got to his feet. “Well, I’m outta here. See you this weekend.”
“You sure you don’t want to crash here tonight?” Mitch asked.
“No, but thanks,” he replied. “I have a meeting with O’Sullivan in the morning and need to crunch a few numbers.”
“Fraternizing with the enemy, huh?” Joss said and laughed.
“I thought we were all past the schoolyard rivalry with the O’Sullivans?” he remarked and grabbed his keys.
“We are,” Hank said and elbowed his twin in the ribs. “He’s just sour because the O’Sullivans raised the rent on the garage.”
Joss scowled. “They own sixty percent of all the commercial property in town and hike the rents up when the mood strikes.”
“That’s commerce,” Jake said and grinned.
“That’s robbery. But since you’ve joined the millionaire’s club yourself,” Joss said and grinned back, “you’ve gone all corporate and white collar.”
“Millionaire’s club?” Jake shot back. “That’s a gross exaggeration.”
He didn’t tell his brothers the buy-out offer he and his business partner had recently received would certainly put him in that category. They were still mulling over the proposition. Trent had family in Sacramento, so he would certainly stay on there, but since Jake’s family was in Cedar River, there was nothing tying him to California should they decide to accept the offer.
Which meant what? Move back? Start afresh? He wasn’t sure he’d know how.
He left the ranch a few minutes later and headed into town, stopping by the cemetery on his way through. Tom’s grave was easy to find, and he noticed fresh flowers had been placed in front of the headstone, which said, Tomas John Perkins. Son. Brother. Husband. Friend.
Looking at his friend’s resting place, Jake experienced an acute feeling of sadness and regret. He glanced at the flowers and figured they’d been placed there by Abby and her son. Jake was glad Tom was remembered so fondly. Abby had clearly loved him, and still did, by all accounts. And why not—Tom had been a good man. One of the best. And he understood why Abby had been drawn to the other man. Tom had offered her everything Jake didn’t—security, stability, the reality of knowing people were safe from harm in her world. Of course, no one was truly safe. Tom had died, and she was alone.
Except for her son and her grandmother.
Jake sighed, turned, headed back to his bike. The weather had turned bleak in the past hour, and a heavy cloud hung overhead. He grabbed his helmet, sat on the bike and drove back into town. By the time he pulled up into the hotel parking area, a soft blanket of snow had fallen. He strode through the foyer and spotted Liam O’Sullivan by the concierge desk. The follow-up meeting they’d had the day before had gone well, and he was sure they’d get the job. Not that he really needed the work, but he liked the idea of doing something in his hometown. And catching up with Abby and the restaurant manager a couple of days earlier had been relatively tension-free.
The restaurant manager was a woman in her midtwenties and was happy to answer any questions. She spoke openly about Abby in glowing terms and Jake admired the way Abby was so well respected at the hotel. The other woman made it very clear how much she appreciated Abby’s input and expertise when it came to the day-to-day running of the hotel restaurant. Once the meeting was over and they were alone, Abby reconfirmed their date, although not exactly calling it a date—but since he was going to her house and meeting her kid again, he figured it was sort of a date.
Jake wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Sure, he wanted to mend fences, but seeing Abby socially wasn’t something he’d planned on doing when he came back to Cedar River. There was their complicated past to consider. And his lingering attraction to think about. Denying he was still attracted to Abby was pointless. She
was the first girl he’d loved. In fact, she was the only girl he’d loved. It might be in the past, but the memories were acute.
Whatever had happened in the past, Jake was determined to make sure he left Cedar River with a clear conscience. And his heart intact.
* * *
“Mommy?”
Abby glanced toward her son, who was sitting at the kitchen table, drawing and clearly creating a masterpiece with his crayons. “Yes, honey.”
“Can we get our Christmas tree tomorrow?”
She sighed. T.J. had been complaining about their lack of a tree all week. “We’ll try, okay. I have to borrow a truck and—”
“But how will Santa know where to put the presents if there’s no tree?”
Her son’s relentless logic always made her think. “Don’t worry, by the time Christmas Eve comes around, we’ll have a tree.”
He regarded her thoughtfully, seemed happy with her reply and then nodded. “What time is Gran coming over?”
“She’s not,” Abby replied and smiled. “Remember how I said she was going to her friend Maree’s place to play mah-jongg? But I did invite someone for dinner.”
His eyes widened. “Who?”
“You remember my friend Jake.”
T.J.’s mouth twisted thoughtfully. “The man who bought our breakfast?”
She nodded. “That’s right. He’ll be here soon.”
Which is why my hands are shaking...
“Yay,” T.J. said and grinned. “I really liked him, Mommy.”
Abby sucked in a breath and kept tossing the salad she’d prepared to accompany the lasagna in the oven. It was her son’s favorite and their usual fare on the Friday evenings when she didn’t have to work. Rostered off for the next three days, Abby figured that gave her ample time to talk to Jake and tell him about T.J.
If he turned up.
He hadn’t looked overly thrilled by her suggestion they have dinner. Or her agreement for him to give T.J. snowboarding lessons. Okay, so maybe she had done an abrupt turnaround and surprised him with her request. After all, she hadn’t really given him any indication that she wanted to spend time with him. A week ago she’d made it clear that they didn’t need to be friends and their past was exactly that.
Abby heard an unfamiliar roar coming from outside and realized the sound was a motorcycle. She quickly pulled off her apron, wiped her hands and headed from the room. She checked her appearance in the hallway mirror and stopped midstride. Pale. And anxious. Not surprising, she figured. But she didn’t want Jake thinking there was something wrong. She wanted the evening to go smoothly...like a casual meet and greet. She wanted T.J. to get to know Jake and to observe how they connected before she told Jake the truth.
She pinched her cheeks, foolishly wishing for a moment that she’d spent the time to add a little makeup to her face and maybe do her hair into something other than her standard weekend ponytail. Too late now, she mused as she heard the motorbike engine shut down. T.J. came racing down the hallway, and she gently steered him to stay behind her. And then she opened the door.
Jake was striding up the path, his shoulders covered in a light blanket of snow. The weather had changed over the last few days, and she suspected they were in for a long, cold winter. He wore jeans, boots, a leather jacket and gloves and held his helmet in his hands.
“Evening,” he said when he reached the door and shook the snow from his hair. “Snow. Who would have thought.”
Abby watched the motion, remembering how much she’d once loved running her fingertips through his hair. Back in high school it had been longer, and not the military crew cut he now wore. Back in high school, so many things had been different. For one, Jake hadn’t left her heartbroken. And two, she hadn’t sought comfort in the arms and heart of his best friend.
“A bit of a change from Sacramento, I imagine?” she asked.
“Just a bit,” he replied.
“Do you remember me?”
T.J.’s voice rang out between them.
“I certainly do,” Jake replied and smiled, and her heart flipped over when she realized her son had the exact same dimple in his cheek. They were so alike she was certain an onlooker would be able to make the connection if they were seen together. Which meant telling Jake the truth as soon as possible was now imperative. “How you doing, buddy?”
“I’m good, thanks,” T.J. replied. “I got a new book this week, one with dragons and sword fights and everything.”
“Sounds like a great read,” Jake said easily.
“You can borrow it if you want.”
“Please, come inside,” she said before Jake could respond, opening the door wider, gesturing to a side table and coatrack in the hallway. “You can leave your jacket and helmet there.”
He nodded, ditched his gloves and helmet and placed his jacket on a hook. “Nice house.”
Abby managed a tight smile. “I like it. And it’s next door to Gran, so that’s a bonus.”
His brows came up. “Is your grandmother here tonight?”
She shook her head. “No. Just us,” she said and realized how intimate it sounded.
He didn’t react. But lord, he was so gorgeous she could barely draw a breath. Her heart was skipping wildly, and she was certain her skin was flushed. She took a couple of steps, and he followed until they were in living room doorway. “Ah...the kitchen...we should...”
“Where’s your tree?” he asked, noticing the conspicuous space by the window. “You love Christmas...at least you used to.”
“I still do,” she said quickly. “I just haven’t had time to go and pick up a tree. Or a car big enough. And I don’t have racks on the roof of my Honda.”
Beside her, T.J. groaned. “See, Mommy...everyone knows that we should have a tree by now.”
Abby sighed. “Okay...we’ll get a tree tomorrow.”
“What if they have sold out?” her son asked, looking seriously mortified by the idea.
“They won’t,” Jake quickly assured him, and Abby sent him an appreciative glance. “In fact, I know someone who has plenty of trees left. We could go and get one tomorrow?” he suggested, looking directly at Abby.
“Ah...from who?”
“My cousin David,” he explained. “He has trees growing on his ranch, so he’s got a small sales lot that he opened this season. Tess and Mitch have one the size of a house in their living room. So, yes?”
“Please, Mommy,” T.J. said excitedly. “Say yes! Say yes!”
Abby found herself nodding. “Okay...that sounds good.”
T.J. raced down the hallway and beckoned them to follow him.
“He’s a great kid,” Jake remarked as her son disappeared around the corner.
She smiled nervously. “You’ve made his day. His week,” she added and sighed. “He’s been at me all week to get a tree. But with work and everything else, I haven’t had the time to—”
“I’ll pick you up in the morning, around nine,” Jake said quietly. “If that works for you.”
She nodded. “Sure.”
The mood between them was oddly intimate and Abby’s skin turned hot all over, despite the weather outside. He was close, and so tall and broad shouldered, and the cologne he wore was a woodsy scent that assailed her foolish senses. It had been such a long time since they’d been alone together—not in a restaurant or café—but in her home. And not that they were truly alone, because her son was in the next room. Their son. And suddenly the reality and enormity of the situation hit her with the force of a freight train.
“Abby? What’s wrong?”
His voice, so deep, so familiar, wound up her spine. “I... Jake...we... I have to—”
“Mommy?”
T.J.’s happy voice cut through her stammering, and she sucked in a long breath. Jake was watching her, staring down because he was almo
st a foot taller than she was, and then he touched her face. It was almost involuntary. As though he was willed to move despite himself. Because she saw uncertainty and conflict in his expression. His thumb stroked her cheek for a brief second and then he dropped his hand, still watching her with blistering intensity.
She turned and spotted T.J. standing by the doorway, looking eager and happy. Male company. Of course. Her son rarely had the opportunity to spend time with a man. Other than one teacher at his school and his soccer coach, he was surrounded by women. And right now, he was standing in the same space as his father...a stranger...and yet he looked delighted and excited by the idea that a real live man was in their house. She remembered how he’d talked about having a father—one that was real and not just a picture on the mantel. And then guilt—by the bucket load—pressed down her shoulders and she could barely stand.
“Are you okay?”
Jake again. Concerned and clearly seeing her reaction.
“I’m fine,” she lied. “Just tired.”
His gaze narrowed. “If you want me to bail, I can—”
“No,” she said quickly and waved a hand. “I’ll be okay. And I cooked, so it would be a tragedy for you to miss out on my famous lasagna.”
He grinned, and his eyes had never seemed greener. He held a up a small brown bag. “I brought cider. But I can duck out and get wine if you’d prefer.”
She shook her head. “I’m not much of a drinker, remember?”
“Me, either, remember?”
She remembered everything. Billie-Jack’s penchant for drunkenness had cemented something inside him about overindulgence. When they were young, it had seemed at odds with his bad-boy persona. Not that he was all bad. With her, Jake had always been considerate and gentle and undeniably protective.
By the time they reached the kitchen, her nerves had settled a little, but she was acutely conscious of Jake behind her. He remained on the other side of the counter as she moved around to the sink, and T.J. quickly propped himself up on a stool beside the man who clearly fascinated him.
“Jake?” Her son’s voice cut through the sudden silence. “Can I ride your motorbike?”