Pierce My Heart (Women of Willowbrook Book 1) (11 page)

Yup, that just came out of my mouth.

“Anna Victoria! That is
no
way to talk to a guest,” my mother chides. I look around his hulking frame to see her standing just inside the door. “Say thank you to the nice man for not letting you fall on your face. Yeesh! You’d think I raised you with no manners,” she gripes, shaking her head as she turns and walks further inside.

I hear a chuckle and turn my eyes back to him.

He has both hands on my hips, his eyes shining with amusement, and a small smile that crosses his lips.

I get a little lost in the curve of his mouth, only moving my eyes when I see it widen.

Shifting my eyes to his I ask (a little nicer this time), “What are you doing here?”

Robby decides to make his appearance now.

I notice the smile disappear and his eyes close with a flash of annoyance.

“What’s going on?”

I try to take a quick step back only to notice that Juliet has plonked her booty down behind me leaving no room to move away. I heave out a sigh and look at Robby, who’s heading our way, but a cough has my head swinging around to see Evan giving me big eyes.

I totally forgot she was out here.

God, I have to stop doing
that
when he’s around.

By the time I shrug and turn back, Robby is standing to the side, his eyes moving between the two of us as his brows raise in question.

I open my mouth to say something, but Evan moves in, grabs the leash from my hand and shoves it into his.

“Come on, Robby. You bring the dog, I’ll take in the desserts,” she bosses, moving towards the door.

“Dog?” he asks, looking down at Juliet with confusion.

“Yeah, Anna adopted one today. Now move your ass otherwise the brownies are mine.”

At this threat he moves.

No way was he about to miss out on those, but I don’t miss the look he throws at me over his shoulder.

I’d hear more about it later.

That left us standing here, staring at each other in an awkward silence.

At least it is awkward to me.

“So, you’re Robby’s friend I’m guessing.”

“Yup.”

I nod my head before something hits me.

“That means when I was rambling on like a lunatic today, you knew who I was and that you’d see me later.”

His lips lift into a grin as he shoves his hands into his front pockets.

A quick head-to-toe shows he changed. Not much, but he was no longer wearing the tee from earlier. In its place is a black long-sleeved tee, sleeves pushed up his forearms. His hair is a little less unruly, but still looks like he’s had his fingers (or someone else’s) running through it.

“See something you like, sweetheart?”

I start, my perusal interrupted, and look at his smirking face.

I keep embarrassing myself in front of him and now here he is in the home I grew up in, on
my
turf and I’m doing it again.

Taking in the situation, I know if I don’t do
something
this would start a cycle.

See hot guy, get caught staring at hot guy, get embarrassed in front of hot guy.

Wash.

Rinse.

Repeat.

Since that sounds less than ideal, I make a choice.

A bold one that is more Evan than me, but
he
seems to bring it out in me.

“Actually yeah, but it’s not like you don’t know you’re hot,” I inform him with an arm wave, indicating all that is him. “Then again, one look at Grace and it’s obvious you look good since she’s gorgeous.”

His smirk drops as something else takes over, but I don’t see it.

Hell no.

My eyes clench shut in frustration as I turn my head away, hoping the jealousy in my voice isn’t as obvious on my face.

A sharp bark of laughter has me whipping my head around and snapping my eyes open in surprise.

Is he laughing me?

My eyes get squinty and I start to glare.

Not that he can see me with his head thrown back. And even with the situation at hand, I don’t miss the opportunity to appreciate the beauty of his laughter.

When he rights his head and catches my glare, it only seems to ramp up his amusement.

“Fuck. Well, that explains the hot and cold game you were playing,” he chuckles.

“What?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. One minute you looked like you wanted me to kiss you, but the next you couldn’t get far enough away.”

Seriously?

I mean, yeah, it was true, but you don’t say anything about it.

Hello? Social graces and all.

My face clearly says
I
don’t like being called on it.

His says
he
clearly doesn’t care that
I
don’t like it.

My glare intensifies.

And, when nothing happens, I change tactics.

“I wasn’t doing that,” I lie.

“Yeah, you were.”

“No, I was not!”

“Yeah, babe,
you were,
but don’t worry. Knowing now why you were doing what you were doing, I don’t mind it much. Matter of fact, I like it. A fucking lot,” he says on a slow grin.

“Well,
I
didn’t know
I
was playing a game.
I
don’t play games. But, that doesn’t change the fact that you’re with her, but you’re doing whatever
this
is,” I say, flicking my fingers between us, “with me.”

Then he drops a bomb.

“Grace is my sister,” he informs me, crossing his arms over his chest.

Well, wasn’t
that
fucking great?

“Oh.”

His lips tip up.

“Yeah, ‘oh’.”

“I guess that explains why she wasn’t jumping over the desk to rip my hair out,” I murmur, looking to the side.

Another chuckle has me swinging my eyes back to him.

I’m an idiot.

If I’d taken any time at all to look at the two of them when they were together I would’ve seen the similarities. Thinking back, I could tell, but I’d been so upset that I’d let myself think he was interested in me only to have it shoved in my face that there was no chance, I hadn’t been thinking straight.

Obviously.

“So seeing as I saved you twice today, think you could tell me your name?”

I raise my eyebrow at him.

“Thanks by the way, for that. But, don’t you already know it? Knowing Robby and all.”

“Told you, sweetheart. I’d catch you any time, whether you ask or not.”

My body melts as a shy smile crosses my lips and a small blush hits my cheeks.

“And yeah, I know your name, but I’d rather you tell me.”

I look at him a little bizarrely, but what the hell?

I take a small step towards him, raise my hand, fighting the grin on my face from feeling a little silly, and introduce myself.  “Anna Pierce, nice to meet you…” I trail off.

He doesn’t make me wait.

He uncrosses his arms, takes another step closer leaving just enough room for our hands, and slides his in mine, his voice low as he replies, “Jake Taylor. And pleasures all mine, gorgeous.”

Next thing I know he’s twisted our hands bringing them up so the back of mine is rising and he leans down to lay a kiss to it.  

Honest to God, full body tingle.

If a kiss to the back of my hand got me this feeling, there was no telling what an actual kiss would do.

It’s bittersweet though, tainting it with that word.

My face must betray my feelings because there’s that weird look again on his face, but this one shows outright concern.

His hand that’s been hanging by his side rises and slide along my cheek. “Jesus, what’s wrong? You look like you’re in pain,” he says, his voice full of the concern that shines from his eyes.

Red hit my cheeks, this time from embarrassment.

“Don’t use that word,” I plead on a whisper.

He blinks with confusion before asking, “What, ‘Jesus’?”

I shake my head, feeling his calloused hand slide along my cheek. “No…gorgeous.”

He rears back like I’ve hit him.

If the conversation would’ve been different, I probably would’ve laughed at his reaction, but I definitely am not laughing now.

No way.

Jake is the kind of man who could be
everything
to a woman, especially a woman like me, so him calling me something so throwaway, something that’s obviously not true and just another pet name.
killed
.

I could hack it from just about anyone but not
him
.

I don’t know why and I’m not about to go digging to figure it out, but my guess is because no one, not one
man in my entire
life
, has ever affected me the way he has.

To think I have the same effect on him is laughable, but I have to believe there’s something. Otherwise, what the fuck are we even doing?

His eyes search my face.

“Christ, you’re serious.”

I nod.

His other hand lets go of mine to slide up to my neck, mimicking the position we’d been in back in the parking lot.

“Why not?” he asks, his voice quiet but strong.

This time I shrug.

His grip on my neck flexes as he shakes his head, calling my bullshit.

“No, Anna, you know. Tell me why I can’t call you gorgeous.”

“It’s not true,” I whisper harshly, bringing my hands up to grip his wrists. “It’s just a word guys like
you
use on girls like
me
. You’re the epitome of male beauty, Jake, and I’m just…Anna.”

He blinks.

Then he gives me a look that
clearly
says he thinks I’m full of shit, but as soon as I finish telling him why, his eyes go a little scary.

It should be mentioned,
still
freaking hot, though.

“Who hurt you, baby?”

My eyes widen right before I squeeze them shut, his question only part of the reason why; his voice being the other.

It
hurt
.

So much, I have to close my eyes to get away from the sharpness of it. It’s soft, and fuck me, so goddamn tender, but he sounds like he’s in pain.

Like he wants to go around bashing people’s heads in but he’s trying to reign it in and be calm.

Like he’s powerless and there’s not one thing he can do about it.

There’s absolutely no way he could know about Xavier. Not a freaking chance and I’m not ready to go there; not ready to get into that shit with him, maybe ever. Especially not on my parent’s front lawn.

Not gonna happen.

He let me have it for a second before he squeezed my neck again.

“Look at me, Anna.”

I shake my head.

His voice gets even softer.

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

I resist for a second longer before looking at him, my hands clenching when I catch his eyes.

Crimeny
.

His eyes.

They’re gentle, tender, angry, sad, determined—there are so many emotions rolling through them it’s like thirty-one flavors up in there.

A tremor moves through my body as I watch.

All
that
.

Everything
he’s showing me, everything he’s
feeling
, is for me.

And I have
no
clue why.

I can feel the question on my face, want to ask why he cares so much, but he gets there first.

“Not one person. Not one
fucking
person will hurt you again, Anna. Hear that now. Not one.
I promise you
."

“Jake,” I whisper raggedly, unable to say more, but that one word is so full of everything I’m feeling it says it all.

“
No one
,” he says in a voice that’s unwilling to give even an inch on his promise.  

My hands slide up (this time on purpose) and settle over his. He spreads his fingers apart letting mine fall through before clasping them together and holding tight.

I feel that, all of it, before I have to ask, “Why, Jake?”

His lips tip slightly and my expression turns to one of confusion.

It hardly seems like the time for smiling.