Wicked Reunion (Wicked White Series Book 2) (3 page)

“Thanks, Wes,” London says, and I notice her face is a deep shade of red. “I’m so mortified.”

His eyes soften as he stares down at her. “No problem. Besides, don’t sweat it too bad. I’m sure the old guy didn’t see much.”

My brow furrows the moment I catch my older brother staring at my girl just a few seconds too long for my comfort. When his eyes snap up in my direction, there’s a flash of some unreadable emotion in them, but he quickly avoids my stare and shoves himself away from the truck.

“I’ll see you around, London,” he calls over his shoulder as he stalks off in the direction of our house, which is a block away.

I watch him walk down the sidewalk into the darkness of the night. Wes’s hands are shoved deep in his pockets, and his shoulders slump inward, which in the past has always been a sure sign that he’s uncomfortable. It’s been his go-to move since we were kids, and I’ve seen it a million times, but for the life of me I can’t figure out why he would be acting that way right now. Maybe he’s embarrassed I just caught him looking at London, but it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve ever caught him doing that.

I’m pretty sure my brother has always had a thing for my girl, but he knows better than to ever act on it. For one, he knows that London is not interested, and two, he knows that just because he’s a year older doesn’t mean that I’m not capable of kicking his ass. All the time in the gym has served me well. Wes, while athletic, tends to spend most of his time nowadays studying. He’s going to be an engineer, and his course load is crazy. He’s definitely more of the brain in the family, where I am more of the brawn, but I’m not a dummy when it comes to books either. I just chose something a little easier as far as school goes. A business degree will serve me well when I’m negotiating deals when I go pro next year. I have the feeling I’ll be reading over a lot of contracts.

“It was lucky Wes let us know about our audience. I was just about to rip off your clothes again and maul you here in the front seat in front of God and, well, everyone else who was watching,” London teases and then sighs as she glances at the clock on the dashboard. “I should probably head in anyhow. It’s late.”

“Okay, babe. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I lean over and give her a quick kiss. “Do me a favor and keep the ring between you and me until I have a chance to tell Mom about it. I want to tell them both at the same time when Dad makes his weekly call home on Sunday.”

London nods. “How’s your dad doing over there? Did they say when he’ll be able to come home yet? I know last time he called he was miserable with all the heat over there in Afghanistan.”

“No, but he said they can’t keep him over there much longer. His Stop Loss is about to be lifted, I think.”

“That’s the rule where they can keep someone in the service even after they’ve completed their time commitment to the military?”

I nod. “Yep. Things are looking better over there. After all, they’ve had nearly three years to get squared away since nine eleven. Dad told Mom that the most the army could hold them over there was two years solid without giving him time to come home, and we’re coming up on the two-year mark in less than three months.”

She reaches over and threads her fingers through mine, giving them a little squeeze. “I know how much you miss him. He’ll be home soon.”

I stare down at London’s hand laced with mine, trying not to dwell
on how much I actually miss my father. His Sunday-morning calls are the reason we come home every weekend instead of staying in our dorm rooms. I miss a lot of Sunday calls because I’m always traveling
for away games with the team, but when I have home games, I’m here.

It’s good to be able to hear his voice and know he’s doing all right even though he’s stuck in the middle of the desert, fighting for our country in what our government is calling Operation Iraqi Freedom. It’s a war I only partially understand. I know there were a lot of lives lost when those planes hit our towers, and we need to retaliate and make sure that shit never happens on our soil again, but there’re so many other political aspects that I don’t get. Like why is my dad in Afghanistan if the people we’re after are in Iraq? I just don’t get it, and I sure as hell don’t like it, because it’s keeping Dad away from us.

Most people say that’s what he signed up for when he joined the army. Maybe that’s true of guys that enlist in active duty, but Dad is in the National Guard. The most he was ever gone when I was growing up was two weeks a year. I don’t think he bargained for being away from his family for nearly two years.

London leans in and kisses my cheek, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She opens the passenger-side door and hops out.

“Good night, babe,” I call to her before she shuts the door and heads up to her house.

If it weren’t for London keeping my head on straight, I don’t know what I would’ve done while Dad’s been gone. It’s like she’s my guardian angel—one I’m glad to have in my life. I don’t know what I’d ever do if I lost her.

NOW

LONDON

B
right blue paint swirls onto the paper from my brush as all of the children lean over my shoulder. “You can use your imagination and make the house any color you want.” I push the paint over the white paper with my brush as my preschool students watch while I quickly create a multicolored house in front of them. “Now, boys and girls, I want you to sit at your desk and paint a house, but make sure to keep it on the paper, please,” I quickly add as they scamper off to their desks.

I walk from table to table along with my classroom assistant, Jenn, and make sure the children are all following directions. It’s good to be here. It takes my mind off how absolutely quiet things are at home now that Wes is gone. I miss his companionship, but I know it’s unfair of me to ask him to come back just because I’m lonely.

Peyton, the most inquisitive four-year-old I’ve ever met and the son of my longtime best friend, raises his hand. “Mrs. Kraft, can I make my house green?”

I smile. “Of course you can. It’s your house. Any color you want, remember?”

Peyton’s little strawberry-blond head instantly whips toward the little dark-haired girl, Brice, sitting beside him, and he fires an “I told you so” look at her before going back to work on the project before him.

I chuckle as I continue helping the children until it’s time to clean up and get ready for their parents to come.

One by one my little distractions leave me to go on to their happy homes, until it’s just Peyton and me left in the classroom. It’s not unusual for him to be the last to be picked up. Sam always likes to hang out and chat with me a bit when she picks him up, so she always comes last so she’s not monopolizing my time when the other parents come.

I pull out the tiny chair next to his and sit down beside Peyton while he plays with a superhero action figure, making it soar through the air, accompanied by matching sound effects.

“Who do you have here?” I ask, leaning over to get a better look at the red-caped crusader in his tiny hand.

“Superman!” he replies instantly with so much enthusiasm that it’s infectious, causing me to smile.

“He’s always been my favorite,” I whisper like it’s a big secret.

“Mine too,” he answers and looks up at me with hazel eyes. “He reminds me of Daddy. The guys in the army call him Superman because he’s so strong and can lift big weights.”

The way he looks up to his dad, idolizing him, instantly reminds me of Jared and the way he was with his father. It’s funny how the little things—something so minute—can spark a memory of someone you miss so much.

“I’m so sorry, London.” My gaze snaps in the direction of the doorway as Sam walks through the door with a baby on her hip.

Her face is red—a stark contrast to her pale blond hair—and the expression on her face tells me she’s stressed to no end. I feel for her because I don’t know how she manages to keep things together, being on her own with two kids while her husband is thousands of miles away, fighting for our country on foreign soil.

Sam plops down next to me in the tiny chair and sets ten-month-old Brody on the carpeted floor beside her, giving him her car keys for entertainment before instructing Peyton to play with his brother for a little while so she can chat with me.

“I’ve had the longest day ever. First I got held up at work because the next nurse on shift was late, and then Brody threw up in the car after I picked him up from the sitter.” Sam sighs. “It’s days like these I really miss Josh. I just want to go home and take a nice long bath and go to bed. It would be nice if he was home and he could just take the kids for a while to give me time to decompress a bit.”

“Sounds like you’ve had a rough one,” I tell her. “You need me to come over and help out with the kids tonight so you can relax?”

Her green eyes brighten. “That would be amazing, but are you sure that won’t interfere with your evening or anything? I don’t want to be an imposition.”

I roll my eyes. “Sam, please. You’ve met me, right? When am I ever busy?”

That causes her to frown, and I know exactly what she’s thinking before she even says it. Sam doesn’t like me being alone. “Have you talked to Wes?”

She asks me this nearly every day. By nature, she’s a worrier, has been since I met her back in college when we got assigned to room together freshman year, and she hasn’t changed since then.

I chew the inside of my lower lip and shake my head. “Not since he left last month. He’s been sending me cards and different gifts, though, to let me know that he’s still thinking about me.”

She tilts her head, her pretty face etched with concern. “Have you decided if you’re going to go through with the divorce?”

“Please, don’t,” I beg her quietly. “I know what you’re going to say.”

“Wes is a great guy. If you open up to him a little more and let him in, I think he could really be good for you. The two of you have so much history, and if anyone can help you move on, it’s Wes.”

She reaches over and places her hand on top of mine. “I only say it because I’m concerned about you. What you’re putting yourself through—the inability to let go—it’s not healthy. I want you to be happy, and maybe if you finally acknowledge that Jared isn’t coming back, you’ll be able to find love again. It’s been five years, London, since anyone has heard from him, including his own mother. He’s famous now—a different person from the one you knew. It’s time to stop holding out for him. Face it, London. He’s JJ White now. Jared Kraft is long gone.”

Even though I’ve heard this speech from her so many times over the past five years, it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow. The reality of the situation is that I’m in love with someone who doesn’t love me back. It sucks and makes me seem a little crazy, but what can I do? I can’t help the way I feel. There’s never been anyone else for me, and I can’t seem to “just get over it” like everyone keeps telling me to do.

My eyes burn as I try hard to fight back the tears. Within seconds, they’re streaking down my face, and I quickly bat them away, ashamed that I’m still ridiculously emotional about the entire situation.

“Aw, London, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to upset you. It kills me that you’re still in all this pain.”

I turn and give her a sad smile. “I’m okay, Sam. I promise. I just need more time, that’s all. I think being with Wes was just too much of a reminder, you know? But I think that now that we’re separated, I can start healing. I’ve never put much distance between me and the Krafts because I love them so much, but I think in order to really heal, I’m going to have to cut my ties with all of them.”

She gives my hand a little squeeze. “I’m here for you—whatever you need—always.”

Her sweet words fill my heart with so much warmth, because I know without a doubt she means them. I never had any siblings growing up, but if I had to guess what it felt like to have a sister, this would be it.

THEN

LONDON

I
grab a fresh-baked cookie off the plate and bite into pure chocolaty heaven. Jared’s mom is an amazing baker. She even owns her own shop, making delicious treats. Over the last few years, I’ve done my best to learn everything I could from her about cooking since it’s always been me and Dad at my place. I never really got the chance to learn much of that kind of stuff from my own mother, since she passed from breast cancer.

“You done real good with this batch, sweetie,” Julie praises as she sits down next to me at the kitchen table. “Did you ever try making that meat loaf recipe I gave you?”

I swallow the delectable food in my mouth and then shake my head. “Not yet. Dad’s been pulling double shifts on the weekends lately, and if he’s not been doing that, he’s been out on dates. I think getting back out there has taken his mind off the stress he always seems to be under at the station. He seems happier.”

Julie raises her slender eyebrows. It’s uncanny just how much Jared
looks like his mother. They both have the same dark hair and bright blue eyes with smiles that could light up an entire room. Thin lines
sprout out from the corners of her eyes, revealing that she has some age
on her, but you would never know it, considering how active she is. The
woman is always on the go and could probably run circles around me.

“Being a police officer has to be stressful, so I’m glad he’s finding happiness. It’s been a long time coming for him. He’s been alone far too long.” Julie takes a cookie off the plate for herself. “How do
you
feel about your father dating?”

I shrug. “It doesn’t bother me. I mean, he’s been single since Mom passed ten years ago. I think it’s good that he’s out there looking to find someone to spend his time with. The weekends are the only time that I’m around, and even then, Jared and I are always together.”

She smiles. “You two have been attached at the hip for a while now, haven’t you?”

“Nearly eight years,” I confirm.

“Are the two of you thinking about the future?”

I furrow my brow. That’s not the typical type of question she asks me. We rarely, if ever, discuss my and Jared’s relationship, so it’s odd that she would ask that out of the blue.

“No?” My own reply comes off sounding more like a question. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t mean to pry, dear. It’s just that I couldn’t help but notice that you’re wearing a shiny new piece of jewelry on your left hand.”

My heart instantly leaps into my throat.

Shit. Jared is going to be upset with me. He specifically asked me to not tell his mother anything because he wanted to be the one to break the news to her.

I quickly shove my hands onto my lap underneath the table. “Oh, um . . . that . . . we . . .”

She smiles. “It’s okay, London. I already knew that he was going to ask you before you came in here wearing that ring.”

I furrow my brow. “Did he tell you?”

She shakes her head. “Not exactly. When he came home last weekend, he left his dirty laundry sitting by his bed, and I found the receipt for the ring when I gathered up his clothes to wash them as a favor. He never intended on me finding the little slip of paper, so I laid it on the nightstand with his truck keys. I didn’t want to let on that I knew until he was ready to tell me about his plans. It’s no secret he’s loved you since you two were kids. When did he ask you?”

A blush rushes to my cheeks, leaving them bright red, I’m sure. “Last night. It was a complete surprise. I meant to take the ring off before I came over. Jared wants to be the one to tell you and Henry. I think he’s planning to tell the two of you today when his dad calls.”

“It will make Henry and me both so happy to have you as a daughter-in-law. We always knew the two of you would get married someday. Henry told me a few weeks ago that he was glad that our son found you. You’re a good girl, London, and we know that you’ll do right by our son.”

I bite my bottom lip as the tears begin to well up in my eyes. “Thank you. Being a part of your family means a lot to me. I think the world of you and Henry—Wes too—and I appreciate how much you’ve been there for me since Mom died. You’ve always been like a mother to me, so your approval means a lot.”

She tilts her head and pats my cheek. “I already consider you a daughter.”

The outpouring of love I feel from Julie overwhelms me. Unable to contain my emotions, I throw my arms around her and hug her tight. “You don’t know how happy that makes me.”

She rubs my back in such a caring way that it makes me miss my own mother, and suddenly I imagine what it would’ve been like had she still been here with me—how she would’ve reacted to the news of Jared and me getting married. Would she be just as ecstatic? I hope that she would’ve been. I’m sure she would have loved Jared just as much as I do.

“What’s all this about?” Jared’s voice catches me off guard, and I quickly pull away from his mom just in time to watch him stroll into the kitchen, wiping the grease off his hands with one of the shop towels from the garage.

Julie waves off her son dismissively and then winks at me. “Just a bit of girl talk.” She gestures to the towel in his hands. “How’re the repairs coming?”

Jared stuffs the towel in the back pocket of his stained jeans. “Slow, but I think I’ve nearly got it. It’s running but still has a bit of a miss in it. I think I’ll have it tuned up before Dad gets back. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he comes home and finds that I’ve finished the Nova for him.”

She smiles. “I heard you fire it up out there. It sounded real good. Dad is going to be so pleased.”

Jared’s megawatt smile widens, and I swear my stomach flutters every time his dimples come out in full display. He’s clearly excited to do this for his dad. It’s something the two of them have been working on together since I’ve known Jared, so I know how much this means to him. This is the ultimate gift he could give his father—to show him how he thought of him while he was away by working every spare second he could on finishing this car.

I’ve never seen a father and son as close as Jared and Henry before. If they weren’t working on Jared’s pitching, which seemed to be their most favorite thing to do, they were working on the Nova or playing guitar together. I was always so amazed by that—the way they seemed to be best friends.

Jared makes his way over to the sink and scrubs the grime from his hands, using the orange hand cleaner, and says, “It’s nearly four. Dad never calls so late. You don’t think he’s forgotten that it’s Sunday, do you?”

Julie shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s possible. Your father loves hearing about your games far too much to forget about his Sunday call home.”

He dries his hands on the faded kitchen towel hanging over the
bottom cabinet door. “You’re right. Maybe he had to work an odd shift
or something. They’ve got MPs working some crazy hours over there.”

“Military police are in high demand. They have to be around at all times,” Julie reminds him.

Jared turns and kisses the top of my head as he takes a cookie off the plate before sitting next to me. “It sucks to not see him all the time. I miss him. I’ll be so glad when he’s back.”

His mother reaches across the table and pats his arm. “Me too, son. Me too.”

The afternoon drags on into the evening while we sit around the house and wait on Jared’s father to call before we head back to the dorms. It’s unusual for Henry to miss a phone call to his family, but it has happened before when he was out on some sort of mission with no access to a phone. He called late that night and spoke to Julie to let her know everything was okay and that he just got held up, so none of us is exactly alarmed that he hasn’t called yet.

Wes enters the kitchen and leans back against the laminate countertop that covers the light maple cabinets. “I haven’t missed his call, have I?”

Jared shakes his head. “No. Nothing yet.”

Wes nods. “Where’s Mom?”

“Upstairs getting ready for bed.”

Wes sighs as he rakes his hand through the mess of blond hair on the top of his head. “It is getting late and I have an exam tomorrow. I think I’m going to head back to campus and just call Mom tomorrow and get an update on Dad.”

Jared nods as he glances up at the clock on the stove while his lips pull into a tight line. It’s rare that Jared ever lets his emotions show, but the expression on his face clearly tells me that he’s worried about his father. He’s never been good at articulating if something is bothering him.

It’s easy for me to relate to Jared missing his father.

Losing Mom when I was only ten rocked my entire world, and everything I ever knew was changed in an instant. While I was old enough at the time to understand what death was, I wasn’t mature enough to realize how losing someone so important in your life would alter every part of your future.

My father became a different person after Mom died. He threw himself into his work to try and deflect the loneliness that he felt from losing his best friend. He once told me that staying idle for too long gives him far too much time to dwell on what he’s lost. I think that’s why he prefers to stay so busy, occupying his brain with a million tasks so he doesn’t have to deal with the pain. Dad became a shell of the man I remember from before Mom died.

Dad took us to see a counselor for a short period when things became too much for him to deal with on his own. He thought it would be a good way for us to heal as a family. The one piece of advice that we got from those sessions that really seemed to resonate with Dad was that we have to find ways to move on—that the only way to truly heal is to keep on living even though our grief sometimes seems like it’s more than we can bear and that our loved ones wouldn’t want us to go into a dark place emotionally because they’ve passed on.

“If you want to stay, Jared, I’ll drive London back to campus with me.” Wes’s voice drags me out of my thoughts.

Jared pushes back from the table, causing the wood chair to squeak against the linoleum flooring before he stands. “No. I’ll take her, but call me if you hear anything.”

Wes nods. “Will do, brother.”

Jared reaches down and extends his hand to me. “Ready?”

I take his hand and stand beside him.

Wes’s eyes flick down to Jared’s and my joined hands, and his lips twist as he fixes his gaze on my left hand. His eyebrows pull inward, and the expression on his face makes it seem like he’s upset before his eyes jerk up to meet mine. He gives me a small smile. “Nice ring.”

I raise my brow. I had completely forgotten about my ring, but when I look to Jared, he’s staring at his brother through narrowed eyes.

Feeling a little uneasy, I find myself unsure of how to respond. “Um, thanks.”

Jared doesn’t say a word and doesn’t elaborate any more on the topic.

Wes’s shoulders sag a bit when it becomes clear that he’s not getting any further explanation. “See you around, London.”

“Bye,” I reply as Jared pulls me through the kitchen toward the front door, not giving me time to say much else.

“Mom, we’re leaving!” Jared calls up the stairs.

Julie walks to the top of the landing of the split-level stairs and frowns. “I’m sorry your dad didn’t get to hear about the game. I’ll tell him all about it for you when he calls.”

“Let me know what he says after he finds out we ran all over Ole Miss last night. He’ll get a kick out of that.”

She smiles. “I will. You two have a safe ride back to school, and I’ll call you tomorrow while I’m at work at the shop, Jared, and let you know what Dad said.”