Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

W ith Quinn and Bailey in the city for the day, Kirk done with the lawn, and Corey gone back home, the quiet and the solitude in the house gave Josie too much time to think. Thinking eventually turned into self-reflection. And eventually into a kind of mental self-flagellation.

She kept reviewing the conversation with Corey. The words he'd spoken before he'd gone back across the lawn to his mother's house. The things he'd told her.

What even had that been? A confession? An excuse?

I thought we were on the same page.

We weren't even in the same book.

She remembered the dark expression on his face the day he'd gotten home from his base right after his father's death.

He'd arrived just in time for the funeral and all that came with it. The endless stream of visitors dropping by the house with food and trite words. All vain attempts to bring the family comfort during a time when none was possible.

She'd found him outside her own parents' house in the backyard sitting on the old swing that her father had hung for her and Quinn. That had still hung from that tree that grew between their two houses even though she and Quinn were too old to use it. Hadn't used it for years.

"I'm sorry," he'd said, jumping up from the swing like he'd been doing something wrong.

He'd changed out of the dark suit he'd worn to the funeral that she and her family had attended. Changed into jeans and a T-shirt that made him look just like he had in high school—except for the darkly haunted expression.

"No, it's okay," she'd said. Wanting to make him laugh, she'd added, "That old rope might break and leave you lying on the ground on your butt, but otherwise, I mean, feel free."

He'd actually smiled at her then. A small smile that didn't last long, but it was still a smile and she'd caused it.

That began Josie's quest to cheer up Corey. To make him smile as often as she could during those two weeks the Navy had allowed him for bereavement leave—or whatever it had been called.

It wasn't long after that night that talking and joking turned into much more. And it was everything she'd ever dreamed— Her and Corey. Together.

If I'd known… How could he have known? She hadn't told him he was her first.

Hadn't told him she'd given him her heart back when she'd been fourteen years old, creeping behind the curtain of her bedroom window, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

Hadn't told him she'd gone into that physical relationship with him believing it was the start of something so much more. She'd envisioned dating, and marriage, and kids. A future together.

So he'd broken that heart she'd given willingly, but secretly.

She'd hated him for a decade. Nursing that broken heart, not to heal it but to make sure she never forgot the pain. Preserving the memory of the misery so she'd never be in a position to let herself experience heartbreak like that again.

But looking back now as the sun set outside and she'd yet to turn on any lights, in the growing dim of the house, she couldn't hate him anymore.

All he was guilty of was not knowing what she'd been thinking and feeling but hadn't told him. And that was her fault.

An image hit her hard. That of Corey sitting on the curb, head in hand, misery, confusion and fear written clearly on his face as his mind failed him.

He had much more important things to worry about than her. Yet here he was, today and every other day this week. Helping her with her problem, which even with as horrible as it was that the founder's compass was missing, paled in comparison to his own problems.

The compass. That thought caused the usual churning in her stomach. Sweaty palms. Beating heart.

As much as she'd hated the thought of him being guilty, Kirk had been their only suspect.

She really did believe he was innocent. Not just because of her gut feeling but also from the evidence. He hadn't walked out carrying anything in his hand. Hadn't been wearing a jacket to hide it.

He didn't have it. And that meant it was still missing and they were out of leads.

What was she going to do?

She knew the answer to that. She didn't like it but she knew what was right.

Drawing in a breath she flipped the two light switches in the front hall—one for the lamp on the table just inside the front door and one for the exterior light over the front stoop.

Then, leaving the door unlocked so she wouldn't have to carry her key, she strode outside and headed directly for the Jacobs' house.

She was walking so fast, and it had gotten so dark, she walked directly into the brick wall that was Corey's chest. She would have bounced off him and might have even lost her balance and fallen if he didn't grab both of her arms.

"Whoa. Where are you heading so fast in the dark?"

"Sorry." She drew in a breath then let it out, torn between relishing the feeling of his hands on her and the misery of what she was about to do.

The decision was made. No use hiding it from him now.

"I'm coming over to tell your mother the truth. About the compass."

"Are you sure you want to do that now?" he asked.

"What choice do we have? The compass is gone. You asked your mom if someone had taken it for any reason and she said no, right?"

He nodded. She could see him more clearly now that her eyes were adjusting to the dark.

"Then we're out of leads. The event is in like two weeks and the main attraction is still missing." She shook her head. "More than that. Us delaying reporting it missing was wrong. We just look more guilty for not reporting it immediately. And what if us—me—delaying reporting it cost the police a lead? Maybe the trail's gone cold. I'm sorry I even suggested it. Sorry I got you involved in this at all. I'm just…sorry about everything."

Her voice cracked and then, to her horror, the tears began to flow.

"Jeezus. Josie. Stop. You didn't drag me into anything." He cussed beneath his breath and pulled her tighter against him.

The more he tried to comfort her, the more she tried to stop, the harder she cried until it turned into one of those embarrassing gasping kind of uncontrollable ugly cries.

They ended up standing there in the dark between their two houses, him holding her, her hiccupping through her sobs.

When she quieted enough he pulled back and said, "Come on. Let's get you back to your house."

"Your mother," she managed.

"Is out at book club tonight," he said.

She felt guilty over her relief. Not that it was much of a reprieve. No confession tonight. But tomorrow. Bright and early. She'd tell the truth then.

They had no excuse for delaying what she should have done days ago.

Dejected, she let Corey lead her back inside her house.

He glanced around. "Quinn out?"

She nodded. "Staying in the city for the night. They'll be back sometime tomorrow."

"You tell him about the compass yet? Since you're in a confessing mood."

She shook her head. How could she admit to her brother what a failure she was? But she was going to have to. When he and Bailey got back. He was going to find out anyway, just like the rest of the town.

Tomorrow was going to be a really shitty day. Following a really shitty night because there was no way she'd be able to sleep.

And as long as she was miserable—she might as well get this over with too. "When I said I was sorry before, it wasn't just for dragging you?—

He opened his mouth to interrupt her. She held up her hand.

"Let me do this."

He pressed his lips together and nodded, standing silently in the front hallway, probably thinking she was the ugliest crier he'd ever seen. She couldn't worry about her no doubt red and blotchy face now. She had to get through this.

"I'm sorry I blamed you for what went down after that summer. It wasn't your fault. I've been hateful to you since you've been back. Harsh. Hard. You didn't deserve it."

He stared at her for a moment before saying, "I might have deserved a bit of it."

"How?"

"I've spent every night since I've been back reliving that time from that summer with you. Pretty shamelessly abusing those memories." After staring at the floor in the front hallway, he raised his gaze to finally meet hers, but she had to think he didn't look all that upset with himself as he cringed and said with a barely controlled grin, "Sorry."

She slapped at his chest and realized she'd soaked his T-shirt with her tears. "You jerk. I'm here apologizing to you and you're?—"

"Picturing you naked?" He grinned. "Yeah. Pretty much."

She wasn't angry. Didn't have room inside her to be. Not with all the emotions swirling around. And eclipsing that confusion of feelings was the fact she wanted him.

Wanted him to make her forget the compass and the impending confession and the upcoming event that was going to humiliate her in front of everyone she knew and some she didn't.

Something seemed to possess her. Had her rising on her tiptoes and leaning in until her mouth touched his. Softly at first.

She heard Corey's quick intake of breath. Then felt his hands settle on her waist.

He tilted his head, angling his mouth over hers more completely. At the same time his fingers tightened, circling her, pulling her closer against him.

The kiss went from zero to sixty in a matter of moments. Before she knew what had happened his tongue was wrestling with hers. He took possession of her mouth as surely as he'd had possession of her heart all those years ago. Still did, if this kiss was any indication.

What did people say? There was a fine line between love and hate. That the opposite of love wasn't hate but indifference.

The intensity of her feelings for him hadn't changed. She'd loved him as hotly, passionately, as she'd hated him. Her feelings for him were obviously still there, just cloaked in a coat of a different color.

Her breath came fast and hard—and this was just a kiss. At this rate they'd burn the sheets if they dared venture to a bed.

Had sex with him been this intense all those years ago? With her inexperience then, she doubted she would have even known what was good, bad or otherwise. She just loved being alone with him. Being the sole object of his attention for those stolen hours.

She was older now. So was he. And every part of her wanted to know what being with Corey now would be like.

If only she could catch her breath and calm the thundering of her heart that had her hands and her legs quaking.

"We still have to tell your mother," she whispered when she'd pulled back far enough to take a breath.

"Tomorrow," he said before closing in on her mouth again.

Tomorrow.

That word held a warning. A niggling in the back of her brain where common sense still resided.

He was home now to recuperate, but he was still in the Navy. When he healed, and God willing he would, he'd be stationed on a base far away, when he wasn't deployed to some foreign land.

She had a life and a family and a career of her own. Both in New York and in California.

He'd said he hadn't wanted to do long distance back then and gave no indication he wanted that now. He hadn't said he was ready for any kind of a relationship at all.

So nothing had changed from ten years ago when he'd been home on leave… except… Maybe she was old and wise enough now to be okay with that.

Just having fun , he'd said.

She could do fun.

As Corey started to back her up toward the hallway that led to her bedroom, his hands roaming lower to cup her ass and haul her closer against the hard length that proved he wanted her too, Josie started to think this, taking whatever pleasure they could grab for now, was good enough.

So she'd let him love her now, physically, knowing that was all he could give. Accepting that. And then she'd let him go.

Amazingly, as he kissed her on the way to the only destination this could end up—her bed—she was okay with that plan.