Back to the Top (Ross Records) (3) (8 page)

My heart went out to Nick. He’d been a true friend to me when I’d needed him – was a true friend to everyone. And to go through all this heartache alone…

Nick stumbled into the room, more rumpled than Jake, and flashed a smile at the table.

“Morning, ladies,” he said as he poured a cup of coffee. “Any good gossip?”

“Just about you,” Greta said.

He shook his head as Jake stood next to him. “Give me a second to wake up and then I’ll run to town with you.”

“Take your time,” Jake smirked. “Make sure you get all pretty for the checkout girls.”

As they bantered back and forth, my heart swelled. Although I knew that I’d somehow regret coming, I was still glad I came.

***

Sunday was glorious. The weather cooperated, warming to the upper seventies while still providing a refreshing breeze. Matt, Ronnie, and Carly returned that afternoon and once again we feasted on grilled food and cold salads. The laughter never ended and the tension from the previous day was gone. Greta regaled us with stories of the band when they were teenagers and just starting out – stories I’d heard before but still enjoyed.

I sat in a chair across the deck from Jake but caught his gaze several times. My heart sang as my pulse raced. I wanted him and I wanted him badly.

And, judging by the looks he was flashing my way, he wanted me, too.

I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want to fuel the flame. I was engaged and nothing could ever happen between us ever again.

My heart clenched at the thought but I kept it in my mind, not letting it disappear in the fog.

Although I really didn’t want to drink in front of Jake, I relented when Nick offered me a beer. I drank it slowly, not needing anything to let my guard down.

As the afternoon bled into evening, I became more and more aware of Jake’s heavy gaze. I’d limited myself to three beers before switching to soda in order to keep my wits about me. When Ronnie and Carly decided to leave, the party broke up. Matt and Greta followed suit, claiming to be tired. Greta offered to come over the next day to help clean up but Jake wouldn’t hear of it.

“I can handle it,” he said as he gave her a hug. “It’s not that bad, anyway.”

Greta patted his cheek before turning to me. “I hope to see you again real soon.”

“You will,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure if I was being exactly truthful. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to manage to slip away from Brad again.

“I have your number,” she said, shaking her cell phone. “I’ll call you and maybe we can go shopping or something.”

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s do that.”

With one last hug, she left with her husband.

I helped Nick and Jake put away the leftovers and load the dishwasher before excusing myself to retire. I bid them goodnight and then escaped to my room.

Once I changed into a pair of loose shorts and a baggy t-shirt, I slipped into the sheets. But my mind was only on the room across the hall. I knew he was alone tonight and I wanted to change that in the worst way. But I had to be strong. I had to resist the urge.

But I couldn’t.

Creeping to the door, I cracked it, listening for activity. Hearing nothing, I crossed the hall and knocked lightly on the closed door before I could lose my nerve.

He opened it immediately.

The room was lit only by a blue hue from the television but I could clearly make out Jake dressed similarly to me in shorts and a t-shirt.

“Hey, Iz,” he said in a husky voice as he took my hand and tugged me into the room. I shut the door before falling into his arms. “I hoped you’d come.”

“I couldn’t stay away,” I said, burying my face in his chest.

He held me for a moment, both of us savoring the moment, before he edged back to smile at my face. Placing a hand on my cheek, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on my lips. I clutched his shirt, crumpling it in my fists as he deepened the kiss, making my heart sigh with content.

Backing up, he guided me to his bed, gently lifting me and placing me on top. He crawled over me, placing kisses on my neck, my cheeks, my lips. I closed my eyes, remembering the first time we’d given in to our raging desires and how loving and sweet he’d been.

I yanked at his t-shirt and he helped me to remove it. Before he could continue to shower me in kisses, I touched his chest just over his heart, trying to make out the intricate tattoo of my name.

“It’s still there,” I said with a smile in my voice.

“Of course it is,” he said, his lips near my ear. “It would hurt like hell to remove it.”

“Jake,” I groaned.

Laughing, he kissed me. “You know I’m just messing with you.”

I didn’t answer, just pulled him closer so I could kiss him. His elbows rested on either side of my head and his fingers toyed with my hair.

I was where I wanted to be – where I needed to be.

As his kisses intensified, I squirmed in anticipation. I wanted him to remove my clothes and explore my body as he’d done all those years ago. I wanted to run my hands all over him and familiarize myself with him again.

But he didn’t do it. He continued to kiss me but made no move to undress me.

Finally deciding that he was following my lead, I tugged at his shorts, indicating that it was time to get rid of them.

“No, Iz,” he muttered on my mouth.

“What?” I said, turning my head to speak properly. “What did you say?”

Laughing, he dropped to the bed beside me, his hand resting on my stomach under my shirt. “I said, no, we can’t do that.”

“Do what?” I asked. My body was flaming and dying for his touch. Be he remained by my side, lighting stroking my skin.

“We can’t go any further,” he said. “Not tonight.”

“Why not?”

With a sigh, he lifted his head, propping it with his hand. “You’re engaged, Iz. I can’t make love to you while you are wearing another man’s ring.”

“Oh,” I said, as I contemplated slipping the ring off my finger.

“And you know as well as I do that if we let this happen, you’ll feel like shit tomorrow,” he continued. “You’ll feel guilty. I can’t let that happen.”

I opened my mouth to protest but he placed a finger on my lips.

“Think about it, Iz,” he said. “You’re not that person. You’re not a cheater. You’re a good, kind, sweet person and I’m not going to put you in a place where you feel horrible about yourself.”

My heart swelled at his words, making me want him more.

“You’re right,” I conceded, although my body was telling me otherwise. “Maybe I should go back to my room.”

He dropped his arm across my stomach. “No, you don’t have to go.”

“But,” I said. “I don’t want to, well, you know – make things difficult.”

Chuckling, he leaned over to kiss me again. “I just want you here. This is what I’ve wanted for a very long time.”

Tears burned the backs of my eyes but didn’t fall. For that I was grateful. I’d thought for sure that I’d outgrown my crybaby stage.

“Are you sure you want me to stay?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” he said, dropping his head next to mine on the pillow. “I wanted you here last night but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be here. I didn’t want to piss you off or scare you away so I left you alone.”

I nodded, not wanting to admit that I would have been here last night in a heartbeat if he would have asked.

“Let’s get some sleep,” he said, kissing my cheek. “We’ll figure all of this out in the morning.”

“Okay,” I said as I snuggled into his side. He tightened his hold on me as I closed my eyes, more exhausted than I’d thought.

“I missed you, Iz,” he whispered as I felt my body drift off to bliss.

“I missed you, too.”

Seven

Sun filtered through the curtains as the birds chirped in the trees. I came to slowly, wrapped safely in Jake’s arms. Warmth and security enveloped me, topped with a huge dollop of guilt.

Popping up, I clutched the sheet to my chest, even though I was still fully clothed.

“Iz,” Jake mumbled in that adorable, sleepy voice that used to fill my heart with love. “I know you have to get home to that idiot fiancé of yours but just let me hold you for a few more minutes.”

“I can’t, Jake,” I said as I wrangled out of his arms and to the floor. “Oh, damn. I cheated. I lied. I lied and cheated!”

“You didn’t cheat,” he said, climbing out on his side. He rounded the bed and clutched my shoulders. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I did,” I said as I brushed his hands away. “I did. I lied. I didn’t tell Brad I was coming here and then I slept with you!”

“Yeah, and we slept, Iz,” he said, his eyes firm. “We slept. That’s all.”

“That’s not all, Jake,” I said, panic flooding my body. “We…we kissed. We kissed.”

“Okay, so?” he said. “So what? Just go home and tell him that you’re not going to marry him. Go home and tell him that I still love you. Tell him that you’re going to move in here with me.”

“I can’t,” I said, beginning to pace. “I can’t. You don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t,” he said, standing in my way. He held my shoulders again, causing me to crane my neck to look into his eyes. “So, tell me.”

“It’s complicated,” I said. “I just have to go.”

“Please, Iz,” he begged. “Don’t leave again.”

“Again?” I said, anger clouding my brain. “I didn’t want to leave in the first place! You were the one to make me leave.”

“I had to.”

“You pushed me away,” I said, crossing the room to the door.

“I had to,” he repeated as he followed me across the hall to the guest room. “Iz, I was going down and going down hard. I couldn’t let you see that. I couldn’t drag you down with me.”

“You needed me,” I said, shoving my things into my bag. “You needed me and I wanted to be here for you but you made me leave.”

“Yes, I did,” he said. “And I hated that I had to do it. But I was a mess. I was afraid of what I was doing to myself, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want you exposed to that. Hell, I was afraid I was going to kill myself and I didn’t want you to witness it.”

I stopped cold, my heart filling with ice. I’d been afraid he’d kill himself, too, but I’d never said as much to him or anyone else.

“I wanted to help you,” I said, zipping my bag and tossing it on my shoulder. “But you wouldn’t let me.”

I started for the stairs, Jake right behind me.

“I wanted to be with you,” I said, tears blurring my vision. “I wanted to be with you. But you decided my life. You decided that I had to leave. Well, I am going to decide my life now. I’m going.”

When I reached the front door, I noticed Nick peeking out of the kitchen.

“Iz, wait,” Jake said. “Let’s talk, okay?”

“No,” I said, shaking him off while I opened the door.

“Iz…”

“Let her go, Jake,” Nick said behind me.

I ran to my car without looking back and peeled out of the driveway.

I cried all the way home.

***

Wednesday night, Brad and I had dinner with his father, Henry, and George and Mildred Tharpe. The restaurant was almost as stuffy as the country club with dimly lit chandeliers, linen tablecloths, and soft music.

Talk at the table centered on the big merger which left me horribly bored. I tried to follow along but my mind could care less and preferred to wander.

I hadn’t thought about anything but Jake since the holiday weekend and needed to push that out of my brain. It was easier said than done, though for my body constantly tingled when I recalled his kisses and my heart melted when I remembered how sweetly he’d held me.

I wanted to release an exasperated sigh but knew better. That would be ‘frowned upon.’

Instead, I sat straight, sipped my wine, ate like a dainty little lady, and waited for the torture to end. It wasn’t that I disliked the Tharpes, they were actually nice people. But Brad’s father, Henry, was a total bore. He was also the person Brad looked up to most in the world. Brad’s mother, who had passed years ago, was the epitome of the 1950’s housewife. She dressed properly every day, stayed in shape, kept an immaculate house, had dinner ready the moment her husband walked through the door, and never worked a day in her life – outside of the home, that is. Brad wanted the same thing.

I actually had no problem with women who wanted to live that way. People had a right to live how they wanted as long as they weren’t hurting anyone. It just wasn’t the sort of lifestyle I craved.

Sitting at that table, I had a vision of my future: Isabella in a pretty blue dress with a crisp white apron over it, bustling around the kitchen, preparing a hot meal for her husband whenever he decided to come home. Every hair in place, makeup neat and complimentary, and the house clean, the children quiet – ugh.

But what choice did I have? When Brad had proposed, I’d accepted. We’d made a deal. I couldn’t break that deal now.