Final Mend (13 page)

She lifted her head and he tasted her neck, trailing fiery kisses and nips across her neck, down her shoulder blades, and up to her ear. All the while holding her.

“You're so strong and sexy,” she whispered, her voice like sunshine on his cheek, offering passion and heat. “Take me right here against the wall.”

He laughed and groaned as he lifted her skirt—thank God she wore a skirt today—and he used a free hand to unbuckle his jeans.

“What about protection?” he asked.

“I'm protected and I'm safe. What about you?”

“Darling, before you I hadn't had sex in damn near a year.”

• • •

“A year, huh?” Winona planted her fingers on Jake's chest and swirled circles down to his navel. He flinched when it tickled. He snatched her wrist, kissing her fingers then curling them next to his chin.

“Woman, you'll kill me.”

She laughed as he rolled onto his back and took her with him so she was sprawled half atop him, her shoulder resting in the crook of his arm and his right arm lying under her body.

“So let's rest. But I want to hear about your year without sex.”

Jake shifted to get comfortable and nestled their clenched hands under her breastbone. “It's not that exciting, I promise.”

“A year without sex isn't exciting? Come on. Do tell.”

“The last few years of my life have been crazy. Once I gave up my addiction and got into triathlon training, women were falling at my feet. One wanted to marry me after three dates, one wanted to marry me before she even went out with me. I decided sex was taking over my alcohol addiction, so I put my all into my training and stopped having casual sex.”

“You stopped having sex, period.”

“Just for eleven months and twenty-three days.”

Winona's laugh sent a boom of desire straight to his heart. “You kept a diary?”

Jake freed his arm and tapped the side of his head. “No, I just remember. I remember the day I gave it up.”

“I remember the day you lost it.”

Jake gathered his hands around her waist, flipping her to spoon her while she squealed and giggled. He nuzzled his face in the back of her neck, relishing the scent of citrus and spice. He wanted to share this part of his life, but he didn't want her to take his confession too seriously. At one time in his life, sex had become an addiction just as much as alcohol. It was something to do, a way to connect, a way to feel alive. To feel again, period. But he couldn't possibly tell her he'd never connected with a woman the way he connected with her.

And that scared the shit out of him.

“Was she special?”

“The woman I lost my almost-one-year virginity to? Absolutely.”

“No. The woman who made you renounce sex.”

Jake shrugged. He could barely remember Maureen, hence the reason he gave up sex for so long. He found himself falling into a trap, a feeling of dissatisfaction, like nothing could fulfill him. Much like his past addiction had provided.

“Not particularly,” he said. “She was probably more special than any of the others, only because we were together a bit longer.”

“How long?”

“Almost three months.”

“Oh wow, that's a really long time. How did you manage?” Winona's words were coated in sarcasm and teasing. His gut stirred.

“I wasn't particularly good at keeping relationships for long. My schedule, my emotions, my past, didn't allow it. She needed more from me than I could give her. I ended up hurting her by not taking the relationship as seriously as she did, and having casual sex with someone else.”

“Cheating on her,” Winona stated.

Jake blinked slowly, trying to block out that part of his life. He treated his women well, but he couldn't promise faithfulness. He remembered the look of hurt on Maureen's face when she found out he'd been with another woman. She had begged him to promise her he wouldn't do it again. Even said she'd give him another chance. But he couldn't make that promise to her and let her make that sacrifice for him.

“Yeah. I suppose.”

Winona whipped around to face him, propping her chin in her hands as she eyed him. The drapes, which they hadn't been able to close completely, granted enough outside lights to highlight the dark lines of the room, making her face ghostly. The air conditioner whirred.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “So I shouldn't expect exclusive?”

Jake's chest tightened. He hadn't even considered sex with anyone else.

“Don't get me wrong. I have no expectations of this relationship. Believe me when I say I'm not any more serious than you are, but I do expect exclusive while we're having this fling.”

Fling? That's what she called this thing going on between them? He huffed out a breath, biting back words. “Of course,” he finally managed. “I'm a different person now.”

“Good.” She settled into the covers and brought the sheet to her chin. She closed her eyes, patted him on the shoulder, and said, “Get some sleep.”

Fuck sleep.

He watched her, musing over his life, his past, his future.

Fling
? He didn't know what it was, didn't know what the future held for him, but he knew Winona was the only person who could take his mind off the fact he had a lonely and miserable future ahead of him if he didn't do something about it.

Exclusive? Of course he expected exclusive. He hadn't even considered another woman since the first moment he'd eyed Winona behind the bar, serving cocktails he couldn't, shouldn't imbibe.

He wanted her with him tomorrow. He wanted to spend the day with Amy and Winona. Winona would keep him grounded, and he worried about the dependence he might be forming with her. She felt safe; a habit that kept him thinking on the reality of what was really going on in his life.

The feelings he had for her weren't unlike the need for alcohol or the excruciating pain he'd experienced before, or after.

• • •

A loud bang on the door jolted Winona awake. Eyes wide, she glanced at Jake, fearing the worst. She grabbed a robe from the closet and approached the door, peering out the peephole.

“Winona!” Reagan called. Unsure of what to expect, Winona opened the door. Reagan bounced in, halting as soon as she saw Jake.

“I'm sorry. You didn't answer your door, so I thought you might be here.”

“No worries. What's wrong?”

Garret bounded in after her, his gaze wide and uncertain. Jake was sitting up on the bed and donning a shirt, the covers still secured tightly around his waist.

“What's going on?” he asked.

“Sorry to disturb you.” Reagan had the grace to flush and avoided looking at Jake. Instead, her fierce brown eyes focused on Winona. “But I just found out my husband has been offered the job of chief of police and has even been asked to run for sheriff. Something I didn't know. Something his own brother didn't know. But something you obviously did.”

Winona's gaze met Garret's for a split second before deflecting to Reagan. Garret had told her one night at Air Dog that he had been offered the chief of police job. He'd wanted her opinion and never said it was a secret, but he'd asked her to keep quiet about it until he made the decision. Apparently he'd chosen tonight to make the announcement to his wife.

Winona shrugged. “He mentioned he was considering it, but wanted to discuss it with you first. I didn't know you didn't know.”

“Well, I didn't know.”

“I'm … sorry.” What else could she say? How was she supposed to react to this news? Did Reagan think there was something between her husband and Winona? “I think he was worried about how you'd react.”

“Oh, you mean like I'm reacting now?”

“I guess he thought his wife's friend's perspective would help him decide what to do.”

“And I'm sure you told him you thought it was a great idea.”

“Of course I didn't. I told him it was something you both needed to talk about. That he needed to discuss it with you. It was … weeks ago. I thought …” Her voice trailed. She never should have said weeks ago. That only made things worse, confirmed by the furrowing of Reagan's eyes as she whirled on Garret.

“Weeks ago? You've been considering this for weeks and you're just now telling me? When you promised life with me would be all the adventure you needed? We haven't even been married a year and already you're bored with life? You thought you needed to talk to another woman about it first?”

Jake hung his head and shook it before tightening the covers around him and standing. The maneuver made everyone turn to look. “Excuse me. I'm going to change,” he said before disappearing into the bathroom.

Garret didn't look at Winona for back-up. Which was a good thing, considering his wife was already thinking whatever thoughts she was thinking about the two of them, worsened by the fact she'd asked Garret to help her interview Lillian.

“Reagan, please,” Winona said. “It was never anything like that. He was at the bar having a drink and I was working. He asked me what I thought of the idea and told me he was scared you'd be unhappy about it. Which, obviously, you are. He hadn't made his decision yet and I told him it was definitely a decision he couldn't make on his own. He didn't even want to tell his brother, because he knew how Chayton would feel.”

“Oh, but I guess you would understand so he felt perfectly fine telling you.”

“And Naomi,” Winona added. “Naomi was sitting there, too.”

“Oh, isn't that wonderful.” Reagan threw her arms in the air and spun in circles, a perfect rendition of drama overemphasized.

“He made Naomi promise she wouldn't tell Chayton until he had a chance to talk to you.”

Tears filled Reagan's eyes. Her chin quivered. Jake opened the bathroom door and stood propped against the frame as if he didn't know what to do with himself.

Reagan acted like she didn't know what to do with herself either until she squared her shoulders and stalked out the door, slamming it behind her. Garret was about to follow when Winona stopped him with a hand to his arm.

“Don't go after her. She's too upset to speak with you right now. Leave her time to sort through this mess. I'll go. We'll have a drink at the bar or something.” She glanced at Jake and he nodded.

“We'll be right here,” Jake said.

“I'll just … change first,” she said, laughing, blushing as she indicated the robe she wore. Jake moved out of the door and let her pass into the bathroom. In an awkward moment of what-to-do-next, he glanced at her. She smiled and rubbed his cheek. If no one knew they were an item before, they would now.

“I'm sorry about all this,” she heard Garret say when she shut the bathroom door.

“No worries,” Jake said.

“You need your rest. You meet with Amy tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I had hoped you planned on coming. You seem to know how to deal with Lillian.”

“I'll be there if you want me to be.”

“Not if it's going to create a problem with Reagan.”

Winona didn't hear the rest. She tugged on her clothes and washed her face, then kissed Jake, tousled Garret's hair, and clomped out the door.

She found Reagan at the bar, nursing a green drink.

“Hey,” Winona said as she slid onto the seat beside her. “Everything okay?”

Reagan sighed. “Not really. I mean, I know I'm supposed to be supportive of my husband and I don't want to be the wife who tells him he can't chase his dreams. But, sheriff? I didn't know that was his dream.”

“If it makes you feel better, he doesn't plan on running for sheriff. He wants to stay in Tanyon and the Sheriff's Department is somewhere else. Not sure where. Twenty miles out or something. He wasn't considering that, just an offer by some of the locals. And he never applied for chief. But as you know, they haven't been able to find a good replacement since the one who tried to kill you.”

Reagan's shoulders rose as she downed her drink and indicated to the bartender she wanted another. “You want something?” she asked Winona.

“No. Just water.”

“Oh,” Reagan said, looking contrite. “I guess you don't really drink around Jake, do you?”

“No.”

The bartender set the drink on the counter and Reagan pushed it away. “Sorry.”

“It's okay. I don't think he expects everyone to quit because he doesn't drink.”

“No, but I feel horrible now. I mean, first I ruined your evening.” She peeked at Winona and smiled shyly. “And I know Jake must be anxious about this whole ordeal and seeing Amy tomorrow and he probably just wanted a peaceful night. And now here I am, drinking. He probably thinks I'm a drunk.”

“He does not. You can have a drink or two without being a drunk. His problem became a problem when he was always drunk and always drinking and it affected his everyday life. He got pretty bad at one time.”

Reagan grabbed the drink. “Okay. If you're sure he wouldn't mind, I could use this.”

“Go ahead. And as far as our evening, we were sleeping.”

Reagan cocked an eyebrow. “Sleeping.”

“Sleeping,” Winona said, giggling. “After a magnificent afternoon. But you didn't interrupt anything.”

They sat in silence a moment, the dark bar offering a perfect backdrop for what remained unsaid. Two other couples sat in the corner of the room, murmurs of conversation spreading across the room in a low hum.

Winona rested her arm over Reagan's shoulder and leaned into her. “By the way, Garret only told me because he was obviously stressing over it. I've worked in the police field, sort of, and I was tending the bar that night. So I probably seemed to him the best candidate to listen. He couldn't talk to you or Chayton.”

“Yeah, that's the problem. He felt like he couldn't talk to me, his own wife.”