“Not at all.” She watched him leave the room with Joey on his heels.
Some houses smelled of home cooking, baked goods, or cleaning agents, while others smelled of warm family memories. Pete’s father’s house smelled of sadness. The air was heavy, not stale, but on its way there. It felt empty and lonely, and on top of that, Jenna felt pain hanging in the air. She listened to the sound of Pete’s voice coming from somewhere down the hall. She couldn’t make out what he was saying, but she caught his empathetic tone. She perused the photographs on the wall. Although she’d met Pete’s father in the hardware store, she’d never met Pete’s siblings or his mother. The family resemblance was strong among the boys, each tall and chiseled, with brooding eyes and broad chests. His sister, however, looked different from the others, less serious—probably because she was so young—with large, round eyes and a soft chin. She had full lips, and her hair was a shade lighter than Pete’s and hung to the middle of her back.
She followed a trail of pictures that marked the boys’ journey from lanky and hairless kids to thickly muscled stalks of power, while Sky remained lithe and feminine. The boys had their arms slung over one another’s shoulders in one picture, and in another Pete and another brother each held up fish, still attached to their fishing lines, proud grins on their lips. The other boys were in the background, hip deep in a pond, fishing rods in hand. Sky was sitting on the sand off to the right behind a woman whom she resembled and could only be their mother. Pete had her eyes, and the way she was smiling at Sky spoke of her love for her.
Jenna turned at the sound of footsteps on hardwood and Joey’s nails tapping across the floor. She peered down the hall and saw the back of the two men, Pete’s arm securely around his father’s thick waist, his head bowed, as he helped him toward another room.
“Come on, Pop. That’s it. I’ve got you.” Pete’s voice was compassionate and quiet.
“Bea? Where’s she, Peter?” His father’s words slurred together, and Jenna’s heart squeezed.
Joey padded toward Jenna, and Pete turned, his eyes catching hers with a heartbroken expression. She wanted to go to him, help him, and tell him it was going to be okay. She wanted to help tuck his father into bed and rub a damp cloth over his father’s head, assuring him that he, too, would be okay. A chill ran down her spine at the immense struggle she saw in Pete’s eyes, and she knew she could make no such promise. This was a battle his father had to want to win, and no matter how much she wanted to help Pete get his father the help he so desperately needed, this struggle was between father and son. She felt love fill the hallway, bonding Pete and his father in a way that could only come from years of love and respect—and she felt the pressure of the alcohol forcing its way between them, doing everything within its power to create an even greater divide between father and son.
They left a while later and drove to Seaside in silence. Pete’s forehead was etched deep with worry. When Jenna reached for his hand, he blessed her with a try at a smile—it faltered as quickly as it had been forced to appear.
“I’m sorry you had to see that, but I was glad you insisted on being there. Thank you.” Pete parked in her driveway and came around to open her door. Joey jumped out of the truck and sniffed around his feet.
“Don’t be sorry for me, Pete. I feel bad for you.”
They went inside, and Joey ran straight to her puppy bed, walked in circles, then flopped down on her belly with an exhausted huff. Pete sat on the sofa, his long, powerful legs stretched across the floor. He reached for Jenna’s hand, and as she lowered herself beside him, he lifted her onto his lap. She circled his neck with her arms and ran her fingers through the back of his hair. Their foreheads touched, and Pete’s hand slid from her waist to her cheek. He tilted her head and brought his lips to hers, angling her jaw so they could each take more of the other in a kiss that somehow felt loving and tender at the same time. She wanted, needed, to take away his pain and replace it with the feel of her body, the sense of her love, if only for a while. To be his in any way he wished, to love, cherish, possess, until there was no room for sadness or worry.
A deep moan escaped his lungs, igniting every fiber of her being.
He spoke urgently between their kisses. “Love you…My whole life—”
His words circled her love-addled mind.
“You’re beautiful, but you’re so much more, Jenna. I love making love to you. Not just your body—you.”
He wrapped his arms around her, his cheek pressed to hers, his hot breath coasted over her ear.
“I love you, Jenna. I love you so much.”
A whisper in her ear, a promise, a confession.
Her throat thickened as his admission vibrated through her, rooting itself deep in her heart.
“I love you, too, Pete. I always have.”
Chapter Sixteen
PETE HADN’T EVER thought much about love or marriage. He’d attended friends’ weddings over the years, and he’d still never given the idea a second thought. He watched Jenna standing with her hands on her hips, her face pinched into a scrutinizing leer as she stared into her closet Wednesday morning. How did I go so long without you? With Jenna, he was possessive and jealous. She had her own quirks, but somehow they worked well together. He might think he was nuts if they hadn’t been silently courting each other for years, but during those years their emotions took hold and finally had the space to bloom.
“How can it be that difficult to pick a pair of sandals?” he said with a tender smile as he touched her cheek. He loved that she went to such great lengths to make sure things were just as she liked them to be. He knew she was nervous about her mom’s arrival, but he also knew that she took great pains like this every time she dressed. Bella and the others often teased her about it, but watching her in action gave him a whole new appreciation for Jenna and what she needed to feel comfortable, and he loved her even more for her Jennaisms. He couldn’t believe he’d almost let her slip away. It killed him to think he could have lost her before they’d ever had a chance, and he’d do anything—everything—within his power to ensure she knew how much he adored her.
Jenna slid her eyes to Joey, lying on her doggie bed a few feet away. “How can I explain this to a man?” She wore her green bikini and a pair of cutoffs, and she looked amazing. Her lower lip came out in a little pout that drew his arms around her. “I need to match my cover-up to my flip-flops. And it’s very important. If I pick the wrong ones, I might realize it when it’s too late and I won’t be able to change them.”
“Why won’t you?”