My Sweetheart (11 page)

             
Tate sat down next to her and picked up her hand with his good one. “Ah Jane, you really scraped your hand up. Sorry,” he said softly.

             
Jane shrugged and smiled. “I’m tough. It’s no big deal,” she said, pulling the band aid and the ointment over so she could tend to her scrape. Tate looked irritated that he couldn’t help her but with only one hand he couldn’t even open up the band aid for her.

             
Jane was done quickly and she sat back and looked at him. “Can I make you something before I leave? You’re going to miss out on all the treats back at the game.”

             
Tate’s eyes looked bleak and he looked away. “Doesn’t matter. Thanks for taking me to the hospital Jane. I appreciate it, especially since you’ve banned me from the bakery. I know you hate being around me,” he said quietly.

             
Jane blinked in surprise and stood up walking over to the fridge and opening it up. “You’ve got an interesting way of spinning things Tate,” she said as she looked at the contents. She knew from Tate’s choices at the bakery that he was a sucker for chocolate. She opened up his cupboards and looked through his small pantry, pulling ingredients out and setting them on the counter as she went. She turned the oven on and then went through the bottom cupboards until she found a cookie sheet.

             
Tate stared at her with a frown and ran his hands through his thick black hair. “You don’t have to do that Jane. Why don’t you just go on back to the game? I’m sure
Rob
is wondering where you are,” he said sounding mad.

             
Jane ignored him and softened the butter in the microwave. She measured the flour, the baking soda and salt into one bowl and then got the butter out of the microwave. She measured the brown sugar and regular sugar and then looked around for a mixer.

             
Tate motioned toward a drawer. “There’s a mixer in that drawer,” he said quietly.

             
Jane got the mixer and creamed the butter and sugar and then added the eggs, vanilla and the dry ingredients. She opened the package of chocolate chips and poured them in, mixing them in with a large wooden spoon.

             
“Whenever my sister Kit is sick or sad I make her chocolate chip cookies. She says they’re magical,” she said with a smile as she glanced over at Tate.

             
Tate didn’t look so irritated anymore. “I can believe it,” he said softly.

             
Jane finished mixing the cookie dough and then used a spoon to scoop out little balls of dough placing them two inches apart on the sheet. She moved quickly and slid the cookie sheet into the oven, glancing at the clock on the wall so she could time them. She walked over to Tate with the bowl and smiled down at him.

             
“Do you like to live dangerously Officer Matafeo?” she asked, dipping her finger into the bowl and licking some off.

             
Tate grinned up at her and tilted his head up. “You mean, Officer Matafeo, would you like some salmonella poisoning on top of an injured shoulder?”

             
Jane laughed and set the bowl down sitting down in a chair on the other side of the table. “Yes, that’s exactly what I meant. I should have known you play it by the book.”

             
Tate grinned and closed his eyes as he breathed in deeply. “My home has never smelled so good,” he said in appreciation.

             
Jane smiled and kicked her feet up onto the next chair. “What did the Doctor say about your shoulder? How long before you’re back to playing Rugby and chasing down bad guys?”

             
Tate sighed, “If I keep ice on it and I’m careful I can be back to my regular self in about a week.”

             
Jane smiled and stood up to check on the cookies. “That’s good news,” she said and then looked around for a spatula. She grabbed the milk carton out of the fridge and poured Tate a tall glass of milk setting it in front of him before sliding on the oven mitts and taking out the cookies. She put three cookies on a plate and walked over to give them to Tate.

             
Tate looked up at her with so much emotion in his eyes that she blinked in surprise. He cleared his throat and then took the plate from her. “Thank you Jane.  I’ve been hurt before, but no one’s ever made me cookies to help me feel better.”

             
Jane smiled sadly and thought about what she knew of Tate’s early life. “That’s a shame. I can’t think of anyone who deserves a chocolate chip cookie more than you.”

             
Tate picked up the still warm cookie and took a bite, closing his eyes as if he were in ecstasy. “Amazing,” he said reverently.

             
Jane laughed softly and turned around and got another batch ready to go in the oven. She glanced at the clock and then picked up a cookie and walked back to sit down by Tate. She took a bite and smiled. He was right. They were amazing.

             
“I hate not being able to come into the bakery anymore. I hate not seeing you,” Tate said picking up his third cookie and taking a bite.

             
Jane frowned and licked some chocolate off her lips. “Tate, I told you, it’s just too hard for me. It’s better this way.”

             
Tate frowned and took a sip of milk. “
Then why are you here Jane?
In my house? Making me cookies?”

             
Jane blushed and crossed her legs. “I don’t really know. I just know that when I saw you hurt, I had to help you. It wasn’t exactly something I could control.”

             
Tate rubbed his finger up and down the condensation on the glass. “Seeing you kiss Rob makes me want to kill him. When I went for that tackle, I couldn’t care less about the ball. I just wanted to bring Rob down,” he said, not looking at her.

             
Jane’s eyes went wide in shock. “
Tate!
You were trying to hurt Rob?”

             
Tate nodded slowly. “Not very nice, huh?”

             
Jane stared at him shaking her head. “I don’t get you at all,” she whispered and stood up to check on the cookies. They had two more minutes left so she leaned against the kitchen counter and studied the large man sprawled out before her.

             
“You were on a date with Alea, Tate. What right do you have to be upset with Rob? You don’t want to be with me but you don’t want anyone else to be with me either? That’s not fair,” she said quietly.

             
Tate looked up at her, spearing her with hot eyes. “You don’t understand Jane. I would love to be with you. I
want
to be with you. I want . . . a lot. But choosing Alea is the logical thing to do. She’s Samoan and her parents are good friends with my aunt and uncle. My children would have a life rich in heritage and strong with family. A life I didn’t have until it was almost too late. It’s the right thing to do,” he said stoically.

             
Jane sniffed and walked over to the oven, pulling the cookie sheet out again. She quickly used the spatula to get the cookies onto the cooling rack before putting the last batch of cookies on the sheet. She slipped the cookie sheet in the oven and then picked up two more cooled cookies and took them over to Tate, setting them down on his plate before sitting down again.

             
“Do you love her?” she asked staring at the table.

             
Tate shook his head quickly. “
No
,” he whispered.

             
Jane groaned softly and leaned her head in her hand as she looked up at him. “You would willingly choose a woman you know you don’t love?”

             
Tate looked away and closed his eyes, his face contorting in pain. “It’s complicated Jane. There’s a lot of pressure from her parents and my relatives. I’d be letting a lot of people down if I walk away from her. I owe my aunt and uncle everything.”

             
Jane felt her heart break for Tate. “Do you owe them years of misery? I once heard that the greatest thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother. If you can’t do that you’ll just be hurting your sons and daughters.”

             
Tate picked up a cookie and took a bite. “If I had children with Alea they would be three quarters Samoan,” he said matter-of- factly.

             
Jane’s eyebrows went up. “
Oh
, I see. I guess it would be hard to love children that were only one quarter Samoan, huh?” she said feeling cold all of a sudden. She stood up and walked over to the sink. She had exactly three more minutes before she could get the cookies out of the oven. And then she was gone.

             
She felt movement behind her and turned around in surprise. Tate was standing right in front of her looking torn and upset. “Jane, if I had children with . . .
you
, I would treasure our children. I
would
love them. I would protect them with my life. I don’t care what percentage my children are . . . but my relatives do.”

             
Jane sniffed and looked away. “So you’re basically living your life for your aunt and uncle. You’re giving your life and your heart and your decisions to them because they were kind to you and helped you when you were a teenager. That’s very noble.
And very tragic,
” she said crossing her arms over her chest.

             
Tate swallowed and stepped closer to her. “Jane,
please
understand.”

             
Jane nodded quickly. “I do. I get it, more than you know. But I don’t have to like it. Because I love you Tate. And your decision affects me and my life too. You’re going to marry Alea to make your family happy. Where does that leave me?” she asked softly.

             
Tate stepped closer so that they were nose to nose and she was forced to look up into his eyes.               “
Why do you love me?”
he demanded sounding almost angry.

             
Jane shook her head in protest. “I don’t think I had much choice in the matter. But I would never deny my feelings for you. I never have . . .” she said but was stopped from talking any further because Tate swooped down and began kissing her, pushing her tight up against the sink.

             
Jane reached up and wrapped her arms gently around his neck as Tate told her how he felt in the only way he could. Tate’s kiss was nothing like Rob’s. Rob had been all about style and technique and finesse. Tate’s emotions were out of control and his kiss was all passion, heat and yearning.

             
Jane ripped her mouth away, gasping for air, but Tate growled and tilted his head, diving in again, kissing her over and over again. The smell of burning cookies had her pulling away. She stepped to the side and clumsily put on the oven mitts, pulling the dark brown cookies out of the oven, feeling shaky and uncertain.

             
She kept a safe distance between them as she slipped the mitts off. “Sorry about the cookies.”

             
Tate’s eyes narrowed at her, his eyes gleaming dangerously. “Come back here,” he murmured.

             
Jane shook her head and took another step back. “You know you want Alea. Kissing me will only torture the both of us with what we can’t have. I think I better go,” she said and hurried around the counter and toward the hallway.

             
Tate was there immediately, blocking her. “Don’t Jane. Don’t go,” he pleaded softly, leaning forward and nuzzling her neck with his warm firm lips.

             
Jane bit her lip and pushed him back. “I can’t. I can’t be with you knowing that I’m not who you want. I’d resent you and you’d resent me and we’d be miserable. I think we should just forget about tonight and stay away from each other. You want to be with Alea, so be with her. And I’ll just . . . I’ll just go back to Rob,” she said feeling miserable and moved to walk past him.

             
He didn’t move. He just stood there, looking at her. She couldn’t shove him out of her way because he was hurt. She glanced around for a patio door, but his hand on her arm stopped her.

             
“Don’t run away Jane. This is hard for me. I’ve known who I was going to marry for a long time. I’ve dated a lot of different girls over the last few years, but I always knew in the end I’d be with Alea. But then you moved to town and messed everything up. It’s not that I don’t want you Jane. It’s that I want you so much, I’m getting ready to throw all my plans for the future away just so I can be with you,” he said, gently, his eyes soft and pleading.

             
Jane gasped slightly as what he was saying sunk in. He took advantage of her shock and wrapped his good arm around her waist, bringing her closer to his body. Not to kiss her. Just to hold her. Jane gripped the back of his t-shirt in her hands and fought the tears that were slipping down her face, wetting his rugby jersey. Tate leaned down and kissed her hair, murmuring words of comfort she couldn’t understand over her gasping sobs.