Jake’s arm around my belly gave me a squeeze as he nuzzled his face into the back of my hair.
I closed my eyes, stretching my arms out in front of me even as I pressed my hips back. In return, Jake shifted his hips upward, gliding his cock deeper inside me.
We’d both just come, Jake making love to me spooning. This was after Monday morning mayhem at his house, Jake going to the gym to open up, me taking Ethan to school, both of us returning in order to enjoy a mid-morning session in Jake’s bed.
His hand slid up and cupped my breast, his thumb stroking the side as he asked, “You gonna take a nap?”
“You aren’t?” I asked back.
“Got a guy comin’ in for training. Unfortunately, gotta hit it.”
“Mm,” I mumbled, settling further back into him.
“Jesus,” he growled, pressing deeper into me as his hand tightened at my breast. “You make leavin’ hard.”
“I suppose there are things to do,” I gave in.
“Yeah. And for me, one of them was my woman. Did that. Gotta get my ass in gear.”
I grinned at his words as Jake lifted up, kissed my shoulder and pulled gently out. Then he shifted in a way I knew what he wanted. So as he rolled back, I rolled toward him, lifted my head and looked into his eyes.
Now a deep blue.
Phenomenal.
I loved his eyes.
I loved his hair.
I loved the scar on his cheek.
I loved the power of his body.
I loved his warmth.
I loved the feel of him still between my legs.
I just loved him.
“F*ck,” he whispered and my thoughts moved from loving Jake Spear to the actual Jake lying in bed with me.
“What?” I whispered back.
His hand came up to cup my jaw and he answered, “You make leaving hard.”
“I wasn’t doing anything, Jake.”
“You were lookin’ at me thinkin’ somethin’, Slick, and whatever it was you were thinking makes leaving you hard.”
I drew in breath.
He lifted up, touched his mouth to mine and left it there, his eyes peering into mine when he said, “Lucky I know I get to come back.”
“Yes,” I said softly. “That makes me lucky too.”
His eyes smiled and it was warmer and deeper than his usual smile, which meant I enjoyed it more than I usually did before he brushed his nose against mine and moved away.
I watched him exit the bed and stroll to the bathroom, pulling up the sheet and informing his back, “I’m going to laze for a bit.”
“Have at it,” he called.
I had at it and was still where he left me when he came back, dressed in workout clothes. He put his hands in the bed, leaned deep and kissed me.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he said when he pulled away.
“You certainly will,” I replied.
Another smile in his eyes before he lifted up, kissed my temple and I watched him walk out of the room.
It was then I smiled to myself and curled my arms around his pillow.
Five minutes after that, I remembered I had a lunch date with Alyssa and I needed to get back to Lavender House to repack my bag as all the clothes I’d brought were dirty. There was also laundry to do. And I needed to make certain we had what we needed for dinner that night.
Which meant I needed to get a move on.
I pulled myself out of bed, gathered my clothes from the floor and went about getting ready to take on the day (again).
But when I was done and as I was walking to the stairs, something caught my eye.
I turned to look into Jake’s office and stopped dead.
On his desk was a framed photo of me.
I shook my head, staring at it.
I knew that photo. Henry had taken it several years ago. We were on the beach in Cannes. The photo shoot had been completed the day before. Henry had decided we were going to stay an extra couple of days to unwind. We’d been walking on the beach and Henry had been making me laugh.
It was a good memory, now a bittersweet one.
Why on earth did Jake have that photo?
I moved into the room, thoughts and questions overtaking my brain.
As Henry gave that photo to Gran, Gran must have given it to Jake.
But why?
And I had not been in Jake’s office frequently, but I’d been in it more than once and never saw that picture displayed. In fact, the top right drawer of his desk, which was never open, was now open.
Had the picture come from there?
And if it had, why did he keep it in a drawer?
I was thinking that maybe he forgot he had it for whatever reason Gran gave it to him. One of the many things she did regarding Jake the last seven years that I was unclear about but stopped concerning myself with for the end results could not be argued.
On that thought, I stopped dead as my throat closed when I saw the pile of envelopes bound by a blue ribbon sitting in the drawer.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, the words sounding strangled as I stared at those envelopes.
I knew what they were. I’d seen them on Gran’s desk often enough over the last twenty years.
And Jake had them in a drawer in his desk with a photo of me.
Why?
Why did he have them?
Gran had to have given them to him but why would she do that?
And why wouldn’t he tell me he had them?
Why?
I reached out a hand slowly and curled my fingers around the pile. Something vastly unpleasant washed through me as I encountered the paper and lifted them out of the drawer, thus proving they were real. They were there.
My whole history. My whole life.
In letters.
In Jake’s desk.
Gran hadn’t told Jake about me and Gran hadn’t given me to him in her will.
She’d already given me to him. Completely.
But she didn’t tell me.
And neither did he.
“Babe, forgot my wallet,” Jake called from close and I turned woodenly to face the door.
I saw him make the landing and I also saw him turn his head, see me, see what I held in my hand, and stop dead.
And I knew by the look on his face that the picture, those letters, they had not been something he’d forgotten he had and therefore forgot to tell me he had them.
No, they were something he was hiding.
Honest, real, lay-it-out Jake Spear who gave me everything had a secret he’d been keeping.
From me.
He started into the room, his eyes locked to mine, and began, “Slick—”
I lifted the letters slightly and cut him off to ask, “Did Gran give these to you?”
He stopped an unusual distance away, which was to say any distance at all, and responded very unsuitably.
“What were you doin’ in my desk, baby?”
“Did Gran give these to you?” I repeated.
He didn’t answer. He reiterated his question.
“What were you doin’ in that desk, Josie?”
“It was open. The picture out.” I moved to the side to expose the picture. “It caught my eye, as it would, seeing as it’s of me and it’s Gran’s and I didn’t know you had it.”
Jake looked from the picture to me. “The picture was out?”
“Jake,” I said steadily, although I didn’t know how I managed it since everything else about me was trembling. “The picture being out is not the issue. Did Gran give you that photo? These letters?” I lifted the letters up again.
His eyes again locked on mine and he finally answered, “Yes.”
My heart squeezed.
“Did you read them?” I asked.
“Baby—”
My voice was sharper when I asked, “Did you read them, Jake?”
“Yes.”
I looked down to the letters then up to him. “How many times?”
“Honey, it doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me,” I returned. “How many times?”
“You know Lydie told me about you,” he pointed out.
I kept hold of the letters but dropped my hand, agreeing, “I know she told you about me. Told you, Jake. I had no idea she shared my private letters with you. Why would she do that? And why would you read them?”
“Because she gave them to me.”
“But they were”—I leaned toward him—“private.”
He stared into my eyes but said nothing.
So I asked, “When did she give them to you?”
“A while ago.”
“How long of a while ago?”
He took a step toward me, saying, “Josie—”
But I stepped back.
He stopped and I snapped, “How long of a while ago?”
I saw his jaw clench before he answered, “Five, six years.”
I stared at him, my heart squeezing harder.
“Five or six years?” I whispered.
“Yeah, baby. Now—”
I lifted up the bundle again. “You’ve known this much about me, everything, laid bare to you by my own hand, through my grandmother’s betrayal for five or six years?”
His entire body got still as he said, “Lydie didn’t betray you.”
That was when it happened.
It broke.
Or I broke.
And I did this by throwing the bundle violently against the wall and shouting, “She f*cking did!” He moved again to me but I retreated then skirted him and when he didn’t stop, I warned, “Jake, you get f*cking near me, I swear to God, I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again.”
Instantly, he stopped.
In any other frame of mind, I would have found that unbearably sweet.
In my current frame of mind, I found it the same but not in a good way.
“Why didn’t Gran introduce you to me?” I asked.
“Josie, we went through this,” he told me.
“We did and it didn’t make sense. And you know what, Jake? None of it does. None of it ever did. She was tight with you, the kids. She loved you. She spent a lot of time with you. She opened her home to you. She opened her heart to you. She told you about her and she told you about me. She gave you everything. So how in God’s name have I not met you?”
“We can’t know why she did it now, honey. She’s gone.”
“No,” I agreed quickly. “We can’t. Just as we can’t know why she would meet a man and share not only all of her deepest darkest secrets but also mine.”
“Slick, just take a breath and—”
“I’m not going to take a f*cking breath, Jake,” I bit out. “Do you not find that strange? Utterly bizarre? Why would anyone do that?”
“We can’t know—”
“I bet we can,” I hissed, leaning back and crossing my arms on my chest. “So, tell me, she gave you those letters, what did she say, Jake? ‘Here, take these. Some bedtime reading to put you to sleep.’ Is that what she said?”
Jake didn’t reply.
He didn’t reply.
Jake, who laid it all out about everything, didn’t reply.
Oh God, he was absolutely hiding something.
“She gave me to you before she gave me to you,” I told him something he well knew. “You had me in your house.” I motioned to the picture and then to the letters. “All of me. Every thought. Every secret. All of me that should be mine to give.”
“Would you have given it?” he asked gently.
“I would have liked to have had the option,” I shot back.
“Would you have given it, Josie?” he pressed, still going gently.
“Maybe not,” I conceded sharply. “But even so, if she had some grand scheme, as she had to have had seeing as the evidence is clear.” I swiped the room with my arm. “Perhaps you could have shared it with me as she obviously shared it with you. Doing this, I don’t know, maybe one of the times I wondered out loud why on earth she did the things she did. Telling me, I don’t know, just how much you actually knew about me and that you had everything.”
“Babe, it happened and we are where we are now. Why does it matter?”
That was the wrong answer.
“Because I’m asking questions I think are important and the only person in this room who has the answers isn’t giving them to me,” I retorted.
He said nothing.
Nothing.
Just held my eyes and said nothing.
Why?
“Why won’t you tell me?” I asked.
“Because it doesn’t matter,” he answered.
“It does to me.”
He again said nothing.
And, again, why?
“You’re keeping something from me,” I whispered.
“Baby, you got all of me.”
“No, you have all of me,” I returned. “There’s something of you that you’re keeping from me.”
“Can we please let this go and move on?” he requested.
“Whether you agree or not, Jake, the extent of her sharing meant my grandmother betrayed me,” I informed him. “To you. And in the time we’ve spent together, the things we’ve shared, you not telling me the extent of it is, by extension, a betrayal too. So, no. We can’t move on from this until you explain to me what precisely you and Gran had been up to in regards to me for the last five or six years.”
“What matters to you is important to me, honey. Straight up, bottom of my heart, it is. Believe that. But I gotta tell you, it’s important to me that you let this go.”
“How would you feel, someone you didn’t know knew every word written on your soul for years and then they become important to you and they don’t share that with you and won’t tell you why? How would that make you feel, Jake?”
“I’ll say what you have to know, that both Lydie and I had your best interests at heart.”
“Really?” I asked, throwing out my arms. “Because if you did, I would have met you five or six years ago instead of you and your children being kept from me.”
At that, he flinched.
Oh God.
Why?
“Jake—”
“Let it go.”
“Jake!”
“God damn it!” he suddenly shouted, leaned into me and roared, “F*ckin’ let it go!”
I took a step back.
Jake scowled at me.
“You know when my father threw my diary at me and gave me a black eye,” I whispered.
“Let it go, babe,” he ground out.
“You know when I got my period.”
“Let it go.”
“You know when I lost my virginity.”
“Jesus, f*ckin’ let…it…go.”
“You got to share your life with me in your truck. Over dinner. In bed. I didn’t get that luxury, Jake. Why?”
“Josie, for f*ck’s sake—”
“Why?” I shrieked.
“Let it go!” he thundered back.
“No,” I whispered and watched him wince even as his jaw got hard. “Tell me, Jake.”
“No,” he returned.
We stood there, silent, staring at each other and we did this a long time.
It was me who broke the silence.
“How can this be?”
Jake didn’t respond so I kept on.
“How is it that we were as close as two people could get half an hour ago and now we’re done?”
I watched Jake’s body jerk. “We’re not done.”
I didn’t reply to that.
I asked, “How could she do this to me?”
“She didn’t do anything to you, Josie, except give you your dream.”
Oh yes.
He’d know about that too.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
“Own her, no,” he’d said at the reading of the will. “Do precisely what Lydie wanted me to do with her, yes.”
Yes, he knew exactly.
“I know you’d know that,” I said quietly, my voice awful and I knew Jake heard it because his jaw again went hard but his eyes went warm and alarmed. “I know you’ve read that. You know what I don’t know?”
He didn’t answer.
So I kept speaking.
“What the foundation of my love for a man is based on. And I don’t know that because he won’t tell me.”
His face changed, softened and he said, “You love me.”
“Yes,” I confirmed.
His face softened more and his voice was utterly beautiful when he went on, “Baby, I love you too.”
“Not enough.”
His body again jerked.
I walked out of the room.
Jake followed me.
I went directly to my bag and when he put a hand on my arm, I yanked it free and took a step back.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Josie, dammit—”
“I’ll ask that I can speak to the kids at some point to explain why I have to sell Lavender House and leave.”
He took a step toward me, his body alert, his eyes back to alarmed. “What the f*ck?”
“We’re done.”
“We are not done.”
“We are, Jake.”
“We f*ckin’ aren’t, Josie.”
I locked eyes with him and declared, “We very much are.”
“Jesus, do not do this shit. Trust me, it’s not worth it.”
“I think it’s me who gets to make that determination and as I don’t have all the facts, I can’t make it. I can only make a decision. And I’m doing that.”
“You’re throwing away everything for nothing.”
“Again, I can’t know that.”
He leaned back and crossed his arms on his chest. “F*ck, you’re stubborn.”
I moved to my bag and hefted it up, settling the strap on my shoulder.
I then squared off with him again.
“Do not mistake this for a tiff. This is not a tiff. This isn’t something you can bide your time and wear me down to coming around to your way of thinking. This is it.”
He shook his head, studying me closely.
“I don’t understand if it’s gettin’ too real for you, you’re lookin’ for reasons to put your disguise back on so you don’t have to live your life and if that’s the case, the question would be why. Why, when we got somethin’ this good, would you walk away for somethin’ that means nothing?”
“If you need to ask that question then you didn’t pay very much attention to the letter where I told Gran about my dream,” I replied and I walked away.
I did not cry. Not when I grabbed my purse and coat and hurried out to the garage.
I did not cry when I took the opener Jake gave me and put it on the workbench.
I did not cry on the drive back to Lavender House. Nor did I cry when I called the locksmith to have him come and change the locks and do it with urgency.
I only cried once that was all done, I was locked in and up in the light room.
I didn’t feel safe there. Not anymore.
I wasn’t safe anywhere, since Gran had betrayed me.
But it was as good a place as any.
* * * * *
That afternoon, Jake stopped at the door to Ethan’s room and looked in at his son who had a controller in his hand and was playing some video game on his Xbox.
“Yo,” Jake called.
“Yo, Dad,” Ethan answered, not looking away from the TV.
“Bud, I got a question,” Jake told him.
“Yeah?”
Jake took in a deep breath and asked, “You been in my office?”
“What?”
“My office, Eath. You get in my desk?”
That got him a glance from his son that included a proud grin before he looked back to his game and answered, “Yeah. Totally. Picked the lock with one of Amber’s bobby pin thingies. It was awesome. Bryant’s been tryin’ to pick locks for ages and he hasn’t got close. I win.” He gave his father another brief glance before he stated, “That picture of Josie is cool. You should put it in the living room.”
Jake took in another calming breath.
It wasn’t his son that f*cked up. It was him that f*cked up.
Even so.
“Bud, pause the game a sec, yeah?”
Ethan must have registered his tone because he didn’t delay in pausing the game and looking to his dad.
“Just need you to know somethin’,” Jake said quietly. “We got a lot of people in this house and Amber, Con or me, we might have things that we want to keep private. One day, you might have things like that too. You gotta respect that, Eath, because it’s the right thing to do and because you’ll want that returned to you.”
Ethan’s face had changed in a way Jake didn’t like and he’d know why when Eath asked, “Did I screw up?”
“No,” Jake lied.
Then again, Ethan didn’t screw up.
Jake did.
Ethan’s face was even worse when he asked, “Is what I did why Josie didn’t pick me up from school today?”
“No, bud,” Jake said firmly.
Another lie.
F*ck.
“Just want you to be cool about that kind of thing,” he went on. “You get me?”
“Yeah, Dad.”
“Thanks, Eath,” Jake muttered. “You can go back to your game,” he told him before turning to walk away.
Ethan caught him by calling his name and Jake turned back.
“Where is Josie?” he asked, watching his father closely.
“She’s got some shit to do.” Probably not a lie. “She’ll be back, son.” F*ck, he hoped that wasn’t a lie.
Ethan studied him a moment before he murmured, “Cool,” and turned back to the game.
Jake walked away from his door thinking things were not cool. Not by a long shot.
F*ck, he’d f*cked up.
And he had to fix it.
But he figured Josie needed time.
She had the night.
Then, tomorrow, he’d go to his woman and he hoped like f*ck he could make things “cool.”
* * * * *
The next morning, Jake heard high-heeled shoes on his wood floors in the gym and his head whipped around just as his heart thumped in his chest.
He straightened away from his desk, clenching his teeth when he saw Alyssa.
No.
Strike that.
He saw Alyssa fit to be tied.
She made a beeline to his office, her eyes never leaving him, his never leaving her and the instant she cleared the door, he stated, “Alyssa, don’t got the time.”
She slammed the door, crossed her arms on her chest and returned, “Make the time.”
“Woman—” he started but she cut him off.
“Josie stood me up for lunch yesterday.”
Jake sighed, leaned against his desk and curled his fingers around the edge of it.
But he said nothing.
“Called her all day. Finally got through to her late last night. She said things have changed. She’s putting Lavender House on the market. Takin’ some job with some designer in New York City and leavin’ the first chance she gets.”
His heart again thumped in his chest. This time so hard it f*cking hurt.
“What happened?” she asked.
He finally spoke. “See you think Josie made this your business. But it isn’t.”
“You’re wrong. She’s my friend. She’s a good friend. I care. And outside of her grandmother, you’re the only good thing she’s had in her life and she knows it. Now she’s leaving?” she asked then went on before she got an answer. “Why?”
“I’m gonna sort it out,” he assured her.
“Well, hurry, Jake,” she shot back. “Because she didn’t sound right. She sounded all cold and haughty and she’s got that uppity thing workin’ for her in her way but this wasn’t that. She was cold as f*cking ice.”
That was not good.
F*ck.
Alyssa was not done.
“You’ve had three women slip through your fingers, Jake. They were slippery and not worth the effort of holdin’ on. Now you got one who is. Since that’s the case and you know it, don’t know why you’re in your goddamned office doin’ whatever-the-f*ck you’re doin’.” She threw out an arm. “But I’d get the lead out, babe. You don’t, she’ll slide away.”
“Respect, Alyssa,” he said low. “You know you got that from me. But you gotta back off and let me and Josie work this shit out.”
She held his eyes a beat before she leaned in and whispered, “Hurry.”
And with that, she turned, threw open the door and stomped out.
Jake watched her go.
Then he grabbed his keys from the desk, walked into the gym and called out to Troy who was at a speed bag. “Gotta go do something. Text me, you leave and no one’s here.”
“Got it,” Troy replied, his eyes never leaving the bag, his gloves constantly moving.
Jake went straight to his truck.
Then he went straight to Lavender House.
He did this thinking about his kids last night. The questions. The confusion. The unease. Josie had been with them every night for weeks. Now, she was gone.
They didn’t like it.
They were freaked by it.
And he had no good reason to give them why she was.
Except he was a f*cking moron. But he didn’t share that with his kids.
He should have told her, straight up, from the beginning.
And when he didn’t, when he saw her with those goddamned letters, he should have come clean.
He didn’t.
And he didn’t because he was an idiot. He didn’t because of pride. He didn’t because he didn’t ever want to lose that look in her eyes she gave him just half an hour before, her in his bed, her hair down and mussed, his cum still inside her.
Contentment.
Safety.
Happiness.
Love.
When she knew, it would be like when your kid first finds out you can’t make miracles.
Like when your daughter’s grandmother dies and you can’t bring her back and she knows you want to heal every hurt and thinks you can move mountains to do that. And when she figures out you can’t, you still have her love, you still have her heart, but you’ve lost something precious. What you’ve lost is that understanding that runs deep that you can do everything.
And when you want to give her everything, seeing it in her eyes she knows you can’t f*cking kills.
He wanted more time to have that from Josie.
He should have just told her.
Now, he was going to tell her.
And thank f*ck, he could do that, he saw as he drove up the lane to Lavender House and her Cayenne was parked out front.
She had several out buildings, one of them being a garage that looked like it was built the year the Model A rolled out. It needed to be fixed up, a decent door put in so Josie could park in there. Especially since the weather was going to get worse.
Or it needed to be knocked down and something built onto the house so she didn’t have to walk outside at all.
He’d discuss that with her and deal with it later.
After he got this shit done.
He got out, went to the door and turned the knob.
He stared down at it when he found it was locked.
He then hit the doorbell as he found the key on his ring.
He stared down at the lock when his key didn’t fit.
Jesus.
Was she so far gone she’d change the locks?
He hit the doorbell again and knocked.
No sound came from inside, not that that thick wood door would let any out.
He again tried the key.
No go.
“Jesus,” he whispered out loud this time, hitting the doorbell again.
Nothing.
He pulled out his phone and called her.
He got voicemail.
“F*ck,” he muttered, disconnecting, his heart again thumping in his chest. He moved around the house, trying the key in each lock and looking in windows.
She’d changed the locks on all the doors and was nowhere to be seen.
At the back, he moved beyond the greenhouse and took in the landscape. The sea. The arbor. The empty garden.
He turned and looked up at the house.
He saw her in the light room.
She was in the window seat staring down at him and he began to lift a hand but went solid when he watched her stand up, turn away and disappear.
“F*ck me, f*ck me, f*ck me,” Jake whispered but moved swiftly to the greenhouse, trying the door he knew was locked and looking through.
She didn’t appear in the kitchen.
She didn’t appear in the family room when he walked by.
Or the living room.
Or at the front door when he went back to it and hammered.
Jake hit her number on his phone and when he got voicemail, his chest was burning and his jaw was tight.
“Baby, call me. We got shit to talk about. I’m drivin’ away now, givin’ you time. Tomorrow, we’ll meet at The Shack for an omelet. Nine o’clock.” He drew in breath and finished, “Kids miss you, Slick, and so do I.”
He disconnected, moved into the lane and looked back up at Lydie’s house. Josie’s house.
F*ck, he should have just told her.
Then he got in his truck, his chest still burning, his jaw clenched, his gut tight, and he drove away.
* * * * *
At nine fifty-five the next morning, after getting a coffee and standing at the end of the wharf for nearly an hour, Jake Spear walked away from The Shack.
And Tom watched him do it.
Then he slid the steel shutter over the window.
* * * * *
“I’ll leave you to it,” the bank manager murmured as he took his leave.
“Thank you,” I replied, took a deep breath and looked down at Gran’s safety deposit box.
Keeping my mind off things I should have my mind on, I opened it.
I’d found the key I’d completely forgotten the day before when I was going through my bag, again keeping my mind off things I should have had them on.
This precisely being the fact that I’d done much the same as what Donna had done.
I’d had a drama, made a silly decision, stuck my feet in and refused to look at the facts.
These being I was in love with Jake, Jake was in love with me, we were happy and whatever it was between him and Gran was between him and Gran.
He wanted to keep it that way and I had to trust he had his reasons. He told me it was important that I let it go and he’d also told me it was not that big of a deal.
These two contradicted each other.
But even as they did that, I knew two other things.
Gran loved me.
As did Jake.
And the first time he told me that, I’d walked away.
I just didn’t know how to fix it even though he’d told me how.
Call him.
Meet him at The Shack.
I didn’t do either.
The last boyfriend I had I fought with and the results were very unpleasant.
Jake was not him.
I still didn’t know how to go about seeking someone out to admit you’d been a fool and apologize.
Jake had not called again.
Jake had not called after I didn’t meet him at The Shack.
And now it was past one o’clock, which was a long time since I should have met Jake at The Shack, and I was going from feeling imprudent to being scared.
Thus, on a kind of autopilot, I was carrying on with inconsequential things when I should be finding Alyssa and picking her brain in order to sort out the mess I’d made.
“I’ll do that after this,” I murmured to myself as I looked through the things in Gran’s box.
Stock certificates. A goodly number of them. Jewelry. A great deal of it, all high-quality and expensive. Birth certificates. Hers. Mine. My father’s and uncle’s. Surprisingly, a deed to a plot of land in Florida.
And, at the bottom, a plain white envelope.
I pulled it out and saw that there was not a letter inside but something else.
And on the outside was written For my Buttercup in Gran’s hand.
I felt the envelope and noted it felt like one of those small tapes from a dictation machine.
Either Gran had a message for me or this was a tape that exposed such as the identity of Deep Throat from the Watergate scandal.
I was suspecting it was a message from Gran.
Oh God.
Hurriedly, I replaced all the items in the box and shoved the envelope in my bag. I moved to the door, opening it, and caught the bank manager’s eyes.
“I’m done.”
He nodded, came in, grabbed the box and we went back to the vault where he returned it. He turned his key. I turned mine.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Certainly,” he replied.
I gave him a small smile and directly left.
With care, I drove home thinking about Gran’s desk. I hadn’t scoured through the drawers but I didn’t recall seeing a tape machine in there.
However, if she’d recorded something for me, she had to have one somewhere.
I just had to find it.
This was on my mind when I drove up the lane, seeing a rather well-kept but nevertheless very old white pickup truck in the drive. Closing in behind it in my Cayenne, I saw a tall, sturdy, somewhat older man step out from the entryway of the front door. The wind was whipping his silver-gray hair and his jacket, his eyes in his (it had to be said) rather weathered face squinting in the sun.
I’d never seen him before in my life and, although he looked kindly, I didn’t want visitors.
I needed to find a tape recorder, listen to that tape, call Alyssa, ask her how you admitted to your man that you’d been an idiot and then find Jake and, well…handle him.
Nevertheless, since doing the first part of that required access to Lavender House, I had to get out of my car and approach the house.
This I did and I did it calling, “Hello.”
“Josie,” a somewhat familiar voice replied.
He knew me.
But upon closer study, I again noted I did not know him.
“I’m sorry, have we met?” I asked.
“Tom,” he answered.
I blinked.
Tom?
The mysterious Tom from The Shack?
“Jake missed you at The Shack this morning,” he went on.
Oh my.
It was the no longer mysterious Tom from The Shack.
At my door to tell me Jake had been there and I had not.
Oh dear.
“Um…” I began.
“It was me,” he stated.
I blinked at him again.
“Pardon?” I asked.
“Me,” he repeated. “Me who told Lydia you should be with Jake.”
At this shocking news, I drew in such a deep breath I was forced back on a foot to do it.
“I’m sorry?” I asked, sounding winded.
“Worried about you, she was. Worried about you all the time. Wanted you to be happy. Wanted someone to look out for you. Make you laugh. Give you a good life. Came to The Shack a lot. Liked my coffee. We got to talkin’ and she told me. She told me what you needed. Said they had to be tall. Good-lookin’. Smart. Protective. Fierce. Said they had to live local so she could have you but mostly so you could have Magdalene and Lavender House. She told me all that, I told her about Jake.”
Oh my God.
He kept talking.
“Jake was married to Sloane back then but I still told her about him. Probably more hope than anything, but I didn’t think it would last with Sloane seein’ as she was not a good woman. Looked good. Could turn a man’s eye, not like you ‘a course,” he said complimentarily, grinning and tipping his head at me. “But she was pretty enough. All about Jake in the beginning. Then again, they always are. See a man like that, way he looks, way he is, think it’s gonna be smooth sailin’. A strong man like that, he’ll pound out all the kinks of life and all you gotta do is sit back, enjoy the life he gives you and let him. But, you know, life is life and, pardon my French, but shit happens. Shit even a man like Jake can’t make not happen.”
When he stopped speaking and it seemed something was required of me, I said, “Of course.”
But before I could invite him inside or say more, he kept going.
“So, I still told Lydia about Jake, kind of hopin’ that he’d get quit of Sloane. Now,”—he raised his hand—“don’t be thinkin’ I don’t believe in the sanctity of marriage. I do. Just not a marriage that involved Sloane.”
At this, I had the hysterical need to giggle and nearly choked when I swallowed it down.
Tom kept going.
“Think Lydia had a gander at Jake, probably caught sight of Sloane and definitely had the same idea as me. Think that because the next thing I know, Jake’s over at her house cleaning out the gutters. Kids are over there after school and on the weekends. Jake’s in her garden helpin’ her out ‘cause we all know, Lydia liked fresh veggies from her garden.”
Jake.
It was Jake, who had worked the garden for Gran.
Because, no matter how busy he was, no matter all the plates he had spinning in the air, that was what Jake would do because Gran liked fresh veggies from her garden and he loved Gran.
I felt my eyes begin to sting.
“Now, don’t know, even though Jake and I know each other real well. I was his father’s best friend, best man at his dad’s wedding, watched Jake grow up. And Lydia and I could have a good natter over a coffee when she could still get around and when she couldn’t, I’d find occasion to bring her a coffee and gab with her here. But even with all that, still don’t know, when he got shot of Sloane, why she didn’t get him to you,” Tom said. “Years, I waited to see if that would happen.”
I held my breath.
Tom kept speaking.
“Didn’t.”
I swallowed.
Tom continued.
“Then I saw you.”
“You saw me?” I forced out.
“Pretty thing you are,” he told me on another grin. “Pure class.”
“I…” I cleared my throat. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me for statin’ the truth,” he said. “Figure Jake got a good look at you too, what with all those fancy pictures of you in Lydia’s house.”
My throat closed again.
Tom held my eyes, doing it intently, and went on.
“Man could fall in love with a girl, just like that.” He snapped his fingers and I was so engrossed in what he was saying I jumped. “If that girl looked like you do in those pictures.”
Oh…my…God.
“So pretty, like a movie star,” Tom carried on.
Oh my God.
“Tom,” I whispered.
“Back that with Lydia talkin’ you up the way she did. Folks around town who know you and know what a good heart you have. Way everyone knows how you loved your Gran, always visiting, always talkin’ when you’re not. Yeah,”—he nodded—“a man could fall in love just like that.”
I swallowed to open my throat in order to breathe.
“But see,” he continued with his story. “She’s ridin’ first class on jets and got herself a fancy job workin’ for a rich guy and hobnobs with superstars. Wears expensive clothes. She’s got no baggage. No ex-husband. No kids. Man who can’t give her all that. Man who’s got that kind of baggage and then some. A man who makes a good livin’ but one off exotic dancers. Man like that could steer clear ‘a that woman, hopin’, even if he knows he’d kill for a shot at her, she’d find something better.”
“There’s nothing better than Jake,” I said softly.
“Good answer,” he replied just as softly.
I stared into his eyes as I straightened my shoulders and stated, “I’d ask you in for a drink but I’m afraid it’s rather urgent that I find Jake.”
He nodded, his lips curving up, his blue eyes twinkling. “I understand.”
“I’ll, um…perhaps see you tomorrow for an omelet.”
“Now, I’ll look forward to that, Josie.”
“I…well…it was lovely to see you, Tom.”
“Same.”
I nodded and moved swiftly to my car. I started it up, drove by Tom’s truck and did this with my phone to my ear.
I got Jake’s voicemail.
“Blast!” I snapped, pulling out of Lavender Lane and onto the road. I listened to Jake saying, “Spear. Leave a message.” Then I said, “Jake…darling, I…well, we need to speak. I’ve been…” Drat! “We need to talk. As soon as possible. I’m in my car and I’ll come to you wherever you are. Just phone.”
I disconnected but held my phone in my hand as I drove, knowing that Jake could often leave his mobile in the office at the gym if he was working out, sparring or training.
Maybe that was why he didn’t pick up my call.
I’d go to the gym.
I hit Cross Street and my phone rang in my hand.
My heart leaped and I looked to it, disappointment sweeping through me when I saw it was Alyssa.
I took the call anyway because I knew she was worried about me. Actually, I couldn’t not know this. When I gave her my ridiculous waffle about selling Lavender House and leaving Magdalene, she’d replied, “Babelicious, straight up, this is whacked and I’m so worried about you.”
I needed to brief her so she’d worry no longer.
And I needed to get to Jake.
So I greeted, “Hey, Alyssa. Now’s not—”
“Babe, shit, crap, f*ck, babe,” she cut me off to say, sounding tremendously freaked.
My heart skipped this time and it wasn’t a good skip. “Are you okay?”
“No!” she cried. “My Sofie’s in the clink.”
Another skip of the heart that was far from good.
“She’s in jail?” I asked incredulously, for sweet, quiet, shy Sofie in jail was impossible to believe as well as a disaster.
“School jail,” Alyssa told me. “The principal’s office. I’m headed over there now. You need to get there, babelicious. Conner’s in the clink with her.”
Another skip of the heart. This one worse.
“What?” I nearly yelled, turning off Cross Street to head toward the high school.
“Yep. Sofie called, totally freaking out. Barely got a word from her that made sense but since I got so many of them, I managed to put it together. I guess that little piece of work, Mia, was all up in Conner’s shit about how he ruined her life. They were in the hall and Sofie saw it happening and, don’t know what got into my girl, but she got involved. It started with words but I guess Mia got nasty so Sofie slammed her into a locker and kicked her in the shin. Mia went ballistic and jumped her. Conner waded in to separate them and got himself clocked, unfortunately by Sofie, but he fell into Mia and she’s sayin’ he attacked her. Which we both know isn’t true. No Spear man would take a hand to a woman, she deserved it or not, seein’ as Donna needed some sense slapped into her about decade ago and that shit never happened. And I won’t even start on what should be done with Ethan’s mom.”
Oh God.
Poor Conner.
Poor Sofie.
And that little fink, Mia.
What a mess!
“I’m on my way,” I told her.
“I just got here,” she replied.
“Is Jake there?” I asked.
“Shit yeah,” she answered. “See his truck but Sofie said he showed when she was on the phone with me.”
Well, that answered why he didn’t pick up when I called.
I didn’t know if I should be relieved or not. I didn’t want Conner in the school clink but I wasn’t certain how Jake would react after I’d muddled things up so horribly and then showed up at school.
There was nothing for it.
I’d just have to handle it, whatever it might be.
“See you soon,” I told Alyssa.
“Later, babe. And just, you know, sayin’…that Mia girl’s around and I see her get up in my daughter’s shit, I give you permission to tackle me, shove me out of the room, whatever you gotta do. Talked to my girl about that bullying you told me about. Now this. That Mia needs a lesson but I don’t need an assault charge.”
“I’ll be sure to tackle you or…whatever,” I assured her hoping I didn’t have to do that.
“Right. Later.”
“Later, Alyssa.”
She disconnected.
I drove and my heart skipped another beat, this one anxious, when I saw Jake’s truck in the lot in front of the school.
I parked, got out and hurried into the school.
The administrative offices were at the front and I walked right in.
The receptionist looked up at me. “Can I help you?”
And that was when my heart fluttered and my belly dipped.
This was because I heard Jake say, “She’s with me.”
I looked to the side to see him standing in an open door, his arm up and extended my way, his eyes locked on me.
Relief sweeping through me so profoundly it nearly brought me to my knees, I struggled past it and, without delay, moved to him, lifting a hand and taking his.
His fingers closed around mine and they did this tight, his eyes never leaving me.
Then he pulled me into the room.
* * * * *