Home to You (13 page)

I closed my eyes and let it out. “I’m staying with Jake, Mom.”

She was quiet a minute. “Our Jake? Jake Johnson?”

I rolled my eyes, and the little boy bouncing in his mother’s arms giggled. “Yes, that’s the one.” I twirled my finger at my ear and mouthed the words ”crazy” to the little cherub. He snorted a laugh, then covered his face with the chubbiest little hands I’d ever seen.
 

“Oh honey, I’m so happy to hear that.”
 

She knew—just like everyone else—how much I loved Jake. She also knew this was my first time seeing him since Dave passed.
 

“How is he? Is he still handsome?”
 

“Mom…”
 

“Okay, okay. I’m just happy you two are talking again.”
 

The nurse walked into the waiting room, and I sat up at attention. She glanced at her clipboard, then out to the waiting room.
 

“Katie McGregor?”  

I stood and picked up my bag. “Mom,” I said, already feeling breathless with fear. “I gotta go.”
 

IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON BY the time I made it back to the house, and my blood still boiled from the judgmental comments the doctor made about protection. I didn’t know why I let it bother me so much; it wasn’t like she knew me,
or
knew my reason for being tested. But for the briefest of seconds I considered telling her about Kevin. Though what would’ve been the point? I needed to stop worrying about what other people thought of me.
 

I popped the trunk, got out of my car, and began filling my arms with gear and the groceries I’d picked up on the way home. I felt guilty for needing a place to stay and wanted to make dinner for Jake to say thanks. It was small comparatively, but it would make me feel better knowing I was contributing in some way.
 

When my arms were completely full, I looked down at the carton of milk still sitting in the corner. I knew I should make two trips, but the stubborn side of me wouldn’t let that happen. I set a couple bags to the top of the car, grabbed the milk, closed the back, then somehow collected everything between my shoulders, arms, and fingers.

I made it to the walkway before my phone began to buzz in my pocket. I bit my lip, trying to figure out how to get the phone to my ear without having to start completely over. But my arms began to tremble under the weight of the groceries, and I decided to ignore it—I’d already made it halfway and was determined to make it to the finish line. I entered the code to unlock the door, pushed down the handle with my fingertips, then forced the door open with my foot. It thudded against the wall, and I shimmied inside, trying to balance the bag that had ripped on the walk over as I dropped everything to the floor.

Jake was lying on the couch, and even with my less-than-graceful entrance, he was still fast asleep. Which wasn’t surprising. I’d once done both his hair and makeup on a slumber party dare without so much as a flinch.
 

A black binder was settled on his bare chest, and he was wearing those damned sexy glasses again. My stomach fluttered. This whole living with him thing would go a lot smoother if he didn’t insist on lying around looking so delicious all the time. Okay, so this was the first time I’d seen him lying around, but it was enough! Hopefully it would be the last.
 

My phone buzzed with a new message, and I pulled it out of my pocket.
Kevin again.
I closed my eyes, contemplating whether I wanted to hear what he had to say or not. He’d lost his job today, and judging by the texts I’d received that morning, he blamed me for it. Well screw him. If he hadn’t gone and slept with half the office, he wouldn’t have been in this position. It wasn’t my fault. I quickly erased the messages before a weak moment could force me to listen, then went into my settings and blocked his number from ever contacting me again.
Out of sight, out of mind.

Leaving my gear by the front door, I began putting the groceries away, taking a couple trips to appease my protesting arms. But when I was done, Jake still hadn’t moved.
 

In spite of my better judgment, my unauthorized feet stepped closer. Like a magnet to a pile of nails, I couldn’t stay away. When I was a girl I used to study him when I thought no one was watching. I had him memorized—like a road map to my aching heart—the deep cleft of his chin, the dimple on his right cheek. His straight nose, and those eyelashes so thick I imagined he grew tired just holding them up. He’d been my idea of perfect then, and if I was willing to admit it, I guessed he still was.

My heart clenched, and I brushed his hair back from his forehead to reveal the small birthmark along his hairline. So often I wondered if anyone outside of me and his own mother knew it was there. My heart picked up speed at the idea of being caught, but my fingers didn’t listen and traveled to the crease above his brow—probably formed from long hours of studying, or maybe too much stress—but they were deeper now, and a sadness welled in my belly. I’d missed so much while I was away. Memories I could never recreate, and time I could never get back. There were parts of him I didn’t know anymore. That saddened me more than I cared to admit.
 
 

I took a deep breath and ran my hand through his glossy hair once more. His face moved toward my hand like a kitten. So trusting, so sweet, and dead to the world. I slowly removed the glasses from his face, folded them up, and settled them on the coffee table.
 

Damn him and his sexy face.
 

I picked up the pens that had fallen to the floor, placed them on the table, then turned to the front door to put my gear away.
 

“How was your interview?”  

My eyes widened, and I picked my bag off the floor.
Had he been awake?

 
“It was good,” I said, cautiously turning around to face him.
 

He sat up, scrubbed the sleep from his face, and looked at me expectantly. “Oh yeah?”

I shifted to my other foot. “I got the job.”
 

“I knew you would.” He smiled sleepily and sat forward. He didn’t look like he knew I’d just lusted over him like a psycho while he slept. My shoulders relaxed.  

“The only thing is,” I bit my lip apprehensively, “he wants me to buy a new lens.” 

His brows furrowed, and he placed the binder on the coffee table. “Do you need money?”

“Oh no, that’s not it at all. I have the money, but I’d planned to use it for an apartment after landing the job.”

“You know you can stay here as long as you need.”
 

“I know.” I shifted my eyes to the floor, somehow feeling sad when I knew I should be happy. I found a job in this messed up economy. Even if my plans had changed, I should have felt lucky when so many people were unemployed. 

“Are you still worried about Grace?” His voice held an edge that made me glance up.  

I shook my head. “No.”
 

“Then what’s wrong?” He came toward me and rested a hand along my neck.

“I don’t know. It’s just that nothing in my life ever goes as planned. I’ve given up everything, and it’s never enough.” I was feeling sorry for myself, and I knew it didn’t make any sense, but deep down I think I wanted him to know all that had happened since we were apart—just like I wanted to know everything that happened to him.
 

His mouth set in a firm line, but his eyes were kind. “What’s not enough, sweetheart?”

I blinked back tears. “I sold Dave’s baseball cards, Jake.” The words poured out like a confession. “I didn’t have a choice.” I shook my head. “I had no savings, I used all my credit hiring the PI, and it was the only thing I had that would sell quickly enough.” I searched his face, waiting for the disappointment I was sure to come. They’d built that collection together since they were boys. Spent endless hours mowing lawns to afford them, but all I saw reflected in his blue eyes was sadness.  

“You should’ve called me. I could have helped you.”

My throat burned, and I continued on as though he hadn’t spoken. “Once I have the money I’ll get them all back. Every last one of them. I promise.”
 

He searched my face. “Why didn’t you come to me, Katie?”

I looked down at the floor, willing the tears not to spill over. “What? So you could rush to my aid and fix everything for me?” My tone was harsher than I intended. I wasn’t being fair, but I was tired of being the girl people took care of. I’d never wanted that, and I certainly didn’t want it from him. “I’m a grown woman. It’s time I start figuring things out for myself.”  

He removed his hand and let it drop to his side. “Asking for help doesn’t make you a failure.”

“When’s the last time you let someone help you?” I challenged.
 

His eyes shifted to the window, and something in his expression made my heart constrict. “Friends have helped me a lot over the years.”

Friends. But not me. My stomach twisted. I wasn’t there. “I’m sorry, Jake.”

“For what?” He looked back at me.

“Acting like this.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners, and he reached up to touch my face again.  

“It’s just hard for me. Taking from people.”

“I know.”  
 

“I’m going to pay you back for everything.”

“I know.”

“And I’m going to start by making dinner tonight.”

He arched one brow, and I ducked under his arm to grab my bag by the front door.  

“Trust me. You’ll love it.” I bit my lip and began to walk backward. “Unless you have plans— but you can invite Grace if you want.”  

He grinned. “I’m looking forward to it.” He picked his glasses and binder from the table before turning to face me again. “Grace is out of town for a couple days.”
 

Oh.
 

I continued backing toward my room, my bag hanging from my shoulder, when it suddenly hit me that we’d be alone. I swallowed. “I’m just gonna go change into something more comfortable.” My eyes bulged as the words left my mouth. “No, I mean, I’m just
hot
.”  

Damnit!

“I’m going to change.” I rushed into my bedroom and closed the door, but not before I saw that adorable grin spread wide across Jake’s face.  

An hour later, freshly showered and dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, I stood in the kitchen adding the garlic to the marinade I’d prepared for the chicken. It was a recipe I’d gotten from one of my favorite food bloggers and had always been a crowd favorite. I don’t know why it was so important that he liked my food, but I wanted it to be perfect.
 

“Can I help with anything?” I looked to the doorway to find Jake. He wore the same gray plaid board shorts he’d worn earlier, but now a gray T-shirt covered his chest, his hair was damp, and his face smooth.
 

“You shaved.”
 

He rubbed a hand over his jaw and grinned. “Well, it’s not every day a beautiful woman makes me dinner. I thought I’d clean up a bit.”
 

I shook my head at his flattery. There it was again— him saying the perfect words to make me melt inside. I covered the chicken with plastic wrap and handed him a bottle of wine. “Can you open this?”
 

He nodded, and I opened the fridge to grab the veggies for my salad.
 

“Did you get all your paperwork done?” I asked, standing at the sink rinsing the lettuce.

“Most of it.” He pulled the cork from the bottle, then grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and filled them halfway with Chardonnay. “Tell me about your new boss?” He placed a full glass in front of me as I worked.
 

“He’s interesting. He was named one of the top ten wedding photographers in Los Angeles, so I’m lucky for the opportunity to even work with him.”   

“That’s great, Katie.”

I nodded as I retrieved the tomatoes from the counter and continued rinsing. “I was so nervous. I’m surprised he even hired me with all my stammering. He creeped me out though. He hardly said a word, just listened to me ramble.” I took a sip of wine. “But maybe that’s just the artist in him. They all have a streak of weird. Like Van Gogh—I mean, who cuts off their own ear?”