Chapter 15

Jenica

I look over my shoulder to see if Jake is still sleeping and when I see that he is—one arm over his head and the other on his chest—my chest flutters. His bulky frame fills every inch of the couch but he looks comfortable, strangely.

"Don't wake him," Nana whispers from where she stands beside me at the sink, doing dishes. "The boy needs his rest."

I laugh and shake my head. "Did you get enough to eat?"

"Yes," she nods, while washing the plate in her hand with a sponge. "When your friend wakes, make sure he gets dinner. He must be famished."

"You know," I look down at the soapy glass in my hand, "he's not a stray, Nana. You can't just keep him."

"Jenica Dawn," she chides, rinsing the plate and placing it in the drying rack on the counter. "That boy came all this way to see you."

"Meaning?" I reach into the now empty water and remove the drain stopper, setting it next to the bottle of dish soap next to the faucet.

"Meaning," she wipes her hands on the dish towel, then passes it to me, "when he wakes you get him something to eat and when he's had a full meal, you set out some fresh towels so he can take a shower. And make sure there is fresh sheets on the bed in the spare room."

I look over my shoulder to make sure he's still sleeping. Seeing he is, I place one hand on the counter and lean in, lowering my voice. "He's not staying."

"Why not?" she asks, clearly puzzled.

"Because he probably got a room in town."

"No," she shakes her head. "I won't think of it. A man comes down to see you, you treat him as a guest. He deserves a good night's rest, not some old hotel bed."

"Wow Nana," I can't help but laugh. "I never would have thought you'd be so smitten with a Yankee."

"Oh…" She waves her hand at me playfully. "Yankee or not, that boy is a tall drink of water. Not to mention, he is clearly smitten with you."

I motion for her to be quiet and she clicks her tongue.

"Well it's true," she whispers. "What kind of boy flies halfway across the country to see a girl, then sits with an old woman to watch TV? A keeper, that's who."

She has a point. I could count on one hand the number of people who would do that and Jake was one of them. Regardless, things with him and I are complicated.

The problem wasn't that I didn't like Jake. I stopped talking to him because I did. A lot. I respected and trusted him, and yeah, was obviously attracted to him otherwise I would have never crossed any of the lines that we had. But that night after the frat party I felt our connection. It was powerful. And I had to cut it off because our lives were headed in different directions. That night was about closing a chapter, not opening it.

I'd done well at first—keeping myself busy that first week after my trip to Highland. Between school and the store there was plenty to keep my mind occupied. Then everything with Richardson happened and I needed Jake, just as I did last summer, but he was no longer there. With his answering machine no longer picking up, I lost even his voice from my life, and I'd never felt more alone.

This morning when I woke up, the fatigue in my bones was unbearable and the weight on my chest was heavy. I missed my friends and the slivers of time that used to be mine. Before Jake showed up I planned to throw myself into all the notes I jotted down about the club, to see if I could find something that would help me expose Richardson.

I never expected Jake would show up on my front porch and I certainly didn't expect to throw myself into his arms. But I should have known better. The moment we met he worked his way past my guard in a way no other guy ever had, and I couldn't stop myself from liking him, or wanting to be near him.

"Well…" Nana places her hand under the lotion dispenser next to the bottle of dish soap, pumps a dollop into her hand, and rubs it in. "I'm going to bed, sugar. Maybe have dinner outside," she smiles. "It's a nice night."

"I already ate dinner," I reply, knowing damn well what she is up to.

"I know." She places a hand on my cheek and gives me a warm smile. "But not dessert."

She winks and pulls her hand from my face, then kisses me goodnight.

After tidying up the kitchen, I grab a couple of towels out of the linen closet, place them on the sink in the bathroom with a fresh bar of soap, then make up the bed in the spare room. When done, I head out to the living room and stop when I find Jake watching me.

"Am I dreaming?" he asks with a yawn.

I let out a dry laugh. "If your dreams bring you to Georgia, Hot Shot, then you need to aim bigger."

"Hot Shot, huh." He scrubs a hand down his face then pushes up, swinging his legs over the side of the couch and sitting upright. "I can't believe I fell asleep."

"Sure did," I nod. "Missed the end of Murder She Wrote , too. Spoiler, she solved the mystery."

He lets out a small laugh. "Atta girl, Ms. Fletcher."

"Are you hungry?" I shove both hands in the back pockets of my cutoffs. "Nana and I already ate, but there is plenty."

"Yeah," he rubs his stomach. "Ellery dragged me out of bed before I could eat dinner last night, and the last thing I had in my stomach was airport coffee."

"Well, come on." I nod toward the kitchen. "I've got chicken, dumplings, cornbread and steamed broccoli. If you have room left after that, you can have some of Nana's cobbler. It's the best in four counties."

"I bet it is." He yawns and then smiles while looking out the window. "Man, I can't believe I slept that long."

While his head is turned, my eyes drift down his back and over his shoulders. Damn, he looks good.

"Washroom is there if you want to shower before," I point to the hall when he turns back around and finds me staring. "I put out clean towels and a fresh bar of soap. Dinner will take a few minutes to heat it up so you have time to shower if you want."

He lifts his arm and sniffs. "Do I smell like an airport?"

"No," I snort.

His eyes drag down my body and when they drift slowly back up and meet mine, he flashes me that sexy, million dollar smile of his. "Shower sounds good."

I clear my throat, ignoring the hint of suggestion, and hike my thumb toward the kitchen. "I'll heat the food now. Take your time."

He nods and pushes up from the couch, looking around with an expression on his face I can't quite read, before making his way to the bathroom.

***

I'm standing at the stove with my back to the living room when Jake comes up behind me. "I smell like you now," he says huskily, his voice smooth like caramel.

I turn around and see he's back in his jeans and a T-shirt, but not wearing shoes or socks and his hair is slicked back. He looks effortlessly hot and comfortable in a way that makes my chest tighten.

"Why don't you go outside," I swallow down the heat in my cheeks, "and I'll bring everything outside."

"Outside?" he flicks his eyes to the kitchen window.

"It's a nice night. Thought you could have dinner on the back porch."

"Oh," he grins and turns his attention back to me. "Sounds good. Can I get help with anything?"

"Sure." I nod to the pitcher of tea and glasses on the counter. "Why don't you pour us both a glass."

"Aye aye," he says with a salute.

When I am done fixing his plate, I grab a mat and silverware in one hand and the plate in the other then push the door open with my butt. "After you."

He steps through the back door and when he steps out on the porch his mouth falls open. "Oh, wow."

"What?" I ask nervously while setting the mat down, then the plate and silverware.

"It's beautiful," he marvels, setting down the pitcher and glasses, before turning to take a better look.

"Thank you," my heart swells with pride. While Papa's peach trees lined the acres leading up the house, the property behind the house was Nana's and she used it for blueberries. The floral buds are starting to swell, and sway gently in the night.

"Ankylosaur tails," I say with a soft laugh.

"Come again?" He turns to me.

"My brother Danny loved dinosaurs when he was a kid. That's what he called them."

"Ah," he turns back to waving bulbs. "Now I see it. What are they really?"

"Blueberries," I confirm. "We'll pick them in May. Nana's pies and jams got the back of the property, and Papa's peaches got the front."

He looks down at the plate and I hold out a hand. "Dig in before it gets cold."

He takes a seat and reaches for the knife and fork on either side of the plate. "This looks amazing. Did you make this?"

"Don't sound so surprised."

He looks up and grins then digs in. "Oh, Sparky, this is good."

My cheeks warm with the compliment. "Thank you. It's a family recipe. One Nana gave only to me, I will have you know."

He looks up, chewing. "Can I have it?"

I lean my elbow on the table and rest my chin on my hand. "We'll see."

As he eats, we make small talk—the weather, his dinner, the flight and drive—and once he's finished, I reach for the plate to clear it away and he holds up a hand. "Sit, I'll get this."

He brings the plate and silverware into the house and I'm about ready to tell him to leave them in the sink when I hear the sink running and Jake humming. He's washing the dishes. Good lord if Nana finds out she really will want to keep him.

Once he's done he comes back outside and sits down. We both stare out, listening to the sounds of the night, then he turns to me. "So, do you want to tell me why you haven't talked to your best friend?"

I don't know how to respond because the answer isn't simple. But I know I need to say something. He didn't come all the way down here not to get an answer.

"I didn't mean to worry her." I look down, the memory of Ellery's sweet southern drawl pinched with concern in her last message, creating a lump in my throat. "I've just been going through some stuff."

"Okay." Jake sits back. "So it doesn't have anything to do with what happened between us?"

"Why would it?" My eyes whip back up.

"I don't know," he shrugs. "You tell me."

Not knowing what to say, I fall quiet. "What do you want from me?" I ask finally.

"Now see," the corner of his lip hitches, "that's a loaded question."

"No, it's not." I shake my head. "It's an honest one. Why did you come down here, really?"

He runs a hand through his hair then drops his hand to the arm of the chair. "I wanted to make sure you were okay. Since last summer you have been a constant in my life and I just—"

"You mean a constant in your night," I correct.

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what?" I ask not so innocently.

"Don't act like we weren't more than that."

"But we weren't, so don't make this into something it's not."

"What something is that?" He leans in, the warmth emanating from his body stirring my own. "What's going on with you, or what's going on with us?"

"There is no us, Jake."

"Sparky—"

"Look," I stop whatever he is about to say. "We were there for each other when shit got rough and now things have changed."

"Why did they change?" His eyes search mine. "Because we had sex?"

Heat flushes my cheeks and I look down. "Stop."

"No," he scoots his chair toward me, "I won't stop. That night was amazing, Sparky. Don't tell me you don't think so too because I know better. I saw it in your eyes that night. But I also know you aren't the kind of girl to run when shit gets complicated, so I need you to tell me why you did."

"I did not run." I scoot back, needing to widen the space between us. I can feel the need he stirs in me…the burn in my fingers to reach out and run my hands through his hair. "I just needed to…"

"Put distance between us," he says matter of fact. "I know. I got that. And I'm telling you that you don't have to. Whatever is going on, we can figure it out."

"We can't," I whisper.

"Why?" he insists.

"Because…" I look down. "Reality smacked me in the face that night and reminded me who I am and who you are."

He reaches out and brings his hand to my neck, cupping it. "And who are we, Sparky?"

I'm trapped. I'm not getting out of his hold unless I give him an answer. One that will stop him from wanting to ask any more. "You're a guy with a future and I am a girl that will spend the rest of her life in pursuit of hers."

I pull back and slip out of his hold, pushing up and making my way to the door. Just before reaching it, he gets up and grabs hold of my upper arm. "Jenica, stop."

The way he says my name stops me in my tracks. It's a gentle, but urgent pleading that makes me turn around slowly. "This is my life Jake. It doesn't get any better for me."

He eases his hold and looks out, then up, staring at the night sky. The stars have started to come out and greet us with a sleepy twinkle. "Oh, I don't know," he says in awe. "I think it's pretty perfect if you ask me."

I've never denied the beauty of home. While the air in Cherry Cove is salty and the evening symphony of waves lapping against the shore, the air here in Davenport is thick, filled with pine and magnolia and its own gentle chorus. While I yearn for the vibrancy and bright lights of the city, there is something special about Georgia that no amount of lights could ever replace.

My eyes drift back to his and when I find him staring at me, I don't know what to do or say. "Jake…"

"I miss you," his eyes search mine. "I miss your voice being the last one I hear each night and counting down the days until your next visit. I miss your wry sense of humor and that drawl of yours that is sharper than it is sweet. And I miss the way you listen to me. Really listen. I don't care if we never cross that line again, I just want you back in my life because I miss knowing you're there, even though you're hundreds of miles away."

"It wasn't real." I lower my voice. "It was just sex."

"How could you think that?" he asks, voice breaking a bit.

"Because of what happened that night." I close my eyes, not wanting to go back.

"Between us?" he asks gently.

"Yes, us." I hiss, eyes screaming open. "And you."

"Me?" he repeats. "What do you mean?"

"You ripped that condom off pretty fast, Hot Shot."

"What?" He shakes his head, eyes darting back and forth in confusion. "I don't understand."

"Hey," I pull my head back. "You don't owe me an explanation. I was just another girl. Fuck ‘em, then chuck ‘em, right legend?"

"You aren't just another girl." His eyes narrow. "You never have been. That night meant more to me than any hook up."

"Please," I laugh bitterly. "If it weren't me, it would have been some other girl. Like that redhead at the party."

"I told you that night she didn't do it for me. No girl has done a damn thing for me since we met. And I mean that in every sense of the word."

Despite the way his response makes my heart soar, I can't allow myself to believe it. "Right."

"Come on," he pushes my hair behind one ear delicately. "Don't tell me you don't feel this Sparky, because I know you do."

I swallow, tongue tied like it's been wrapped in cotton. "Feel what?"

"That we're perfect for each other. That it's me who makes you feel safe, and me you run to when you're scared."

Air bubbles up in my throat and I bite down on the inside of my cheek to stop it from spilling out. I do feel it. I always have. But I can't have him. Our futures were never meant to converge.

"Since all that shit went down last summer you were there for me," I admit. "You have always been there for me, but it's not right."

"Not right?" He laughs. "Says who?"

"I put you in a zone. And it—"

"A zone?" he cuts me off with a laugh. "Sparky, did it ever occur to you that you didn't put me in a zone? That I was there for you because I wanted to be?"

"It's fine," I shake off his response. "I get it. I can be a lot, and you need your space. I got the hint when your answering machine no longer picked up."

"Answering machine?" he repeats. "You called me? When?"

"It doesn't matter. You wanted to put distance between us and I'm saying I understand that. It's your right."

"Is that what you think? That I wanted to put distance between us?" He shakes his head and looks down for a minute. "Shit, Sparky, you have no idea how wrong you are." When he looks up again, his eyes are serious. "From the moment I met you, all I have wanted to be is near you. So please," he drops one arm to my waist, while lowering his forehead to mine, "don't push me away. Not again."

His touch sends a charge through me, awakening every nerve ending, bringing me to life in a way I haven't since that night.

"We can't." I place my hands on his chest, fighting all that I'm feeling. "We had a great night together. What more do you want? "

Cupping my neck with both hands, he locks his eyes onto mine as his thumbs brush my cheek. "Everything, Sparky. I want everything."