Second Chance Hero (27 page)

"God, you two are so in love."
Shelley says hugging Jenna, "Jenna, I applaud you. We've been waiting for
a girl to keep Mr. Reid's attention. You've got him wrapped around your little
finger."

"And he has me." Jenna answers
and holds my hand under the table. I know she hopes as much as I do that dessert
is something we can eat one handed.

I don't know what we have for dessert;
Jenna moves her hand away from mine and settles it on the inside of my thigh,
running one finger up and down in a rhythm that finds me in the lounge drinking
filter coffee, and I don't remember what I ate, what we spoke about, or how I
got to the sofa, with Jenna so close to me I can smell her flowery vanilla
perfume and the bath oil from earlier. She's holding my hand and talking to
Shelley about her kids. Mike isn't in the room but I snap back to reality in
time to see him walking in with two glasses of whiskey.

"I can't," I decline the
drink, "I've got to drive home."

"One won't hurt."

I shake my head and raise my hand to
decline the drink again. My dad was stone cold sober and couldn't react in time
to control his car as it skidded on some black ice, propelled over a bank and
crashed into a tree. There's no way any strong alcohol will go into my body if
I have to drive, especially with Jenna in the car.

Jenna squeezes my hand; as usual, she
gets it, taking the whiskey from Mike and drinking it for me.

“You can taste it on me later.” She
whispers so only I can hear. Is it home time yet?

Jenna falls asleep in the truck on the
way home, and stays asleep while I turn off the engine, climb out of my side
and make it round to hers. I lean over to unbuckle her seatbelt and know I'm
going to have a sleepless night when my arm brushes her chest, knocking the
strap off her shoulder and exposing her breast. I manage to lift the dress back
into place without waking her, and slide one arm round her back, the other
under her legs and lift her out of the car. She stirs and grabs the lapel of my
jacket.

"I don't mind walking." She
murmurs sleepily.

"I've got you." I promise.

I carry her straight up the stairs and
into the bedroom and lay her on the side of the bed I like to call 'hers'. It's
the side she slept on both of the times she's stayed, and the side I sleep on
the night after. I turn on the lamp and notice she's awake, looking at me
longingly. God, I love her.

"You okay?" I ask, sitting
next to her.

"Tonight was perfect."

I nod. It was. The food was good, Mike's
always cool to be around, his wife isn't as crazy as I thought, and the kids
stayed asleep. But it was perfect because it was the first time it felt like we
were a couple. We weren't sneaking around, and it didn't matter if we were
affectionate in front of people because, as far as they know, we're engaged. It
was exactly what it would be like if we were together.

"It was," I agree, and slip
the shoes off her feet.

I take one foot in my hand and massage
it. Jenna sighs appreciatively and flexes her toes. I massage each toe in turn
before turning to her other foot and then massaging her ankles. She's quiet,
breathing deeply, little whimpers coming from her parted lips. If it wasn't for
those sounds and the goose bumps on her skin as I knead my way up her legs, I'd
think she was asleep. My hands reach the bottom of her dress and I slide it up
her body; she sits up so I can take it off and lies back down on the bed, her
hair fanning out on the pillow. I lean down and press my lips to her stomach,
taking my time with every part of her body. Jenna leans up and unbuttons my
shirt, sliding it off my shoulders with my jacket; I undo the cufflinks and put
everything on the floor with Jenna's dress. My shoes and trousers are next and
then I settle in between her legs, close enough to feel her heat, but far away
enough to look down into her eyes.

We're silent, our eyes saying things
words never could.

"Red?" She asks, hooking the
waistband of my boxers in her thumbs and tugging them down just enough, "Make
love to me."

I reach between us and slide my hand
into those little shorts that are so sexy on a body like Jen's.

"No." She says, sitting up to
kiss my chest, "I need you inside me."

I nod, and rip the underwear; I can't let go of her
long enough to get them down her legs. I brace myself with my hands either side
of her head and she wraps her legs around my waist.

"You do it." I say, using one hand to
stroke myself along her entrance.

I put my hand back to the pillow when
she glides her hand along my chest and nudges me into her. There's no sweet
sting of pain, no stretching to accommodate; she's relaxed and wet and I slide
straight through her arousal. For the first time since we've been sleeping
together, I haven't had to almost force her body to accept me. Jenna catches
her breath as I fill her, and wraps her arms around my waist, holding me tight
to her.

We make love and it's quiet, tender and
loving, and when we climax together, she cries and holds me close until we fall
asleep.

Jenna

            “I thought you’d left again.” Deacon
groans walking into the kitchen in the morning, “What time do you get up?”

            He’s gloriously naked from the waist up,
his golden mop of hair a tangled mess and he rubs his eyes on the way to the
fancy coffee machine in the corner that I gave up trying to work out when I
woke up.

            “I think I get it from my mum. She’s
always up before me.”

            The coffee machine whirs to life with a
simple flip of a switch and Deacon turns around to look at me. I feel stupid
for crying last night, it’s just not normal; but it was the first time I
completely gave myself to him and I think I fell in love with him all over
again. I know what I’m going to do; I think I was always going to do it. It’s
why I let myself become the girl who cheats. But I think if there is any truth
in soul mates and people being destined to be together, Deac and I will make it.
He has his women and I have my soon-to-be-ex fiancé, but none of that matters
when we’re together. It’s never been so easy to block the rest of the world
out, not even when I’m baking.

            “Why didn’t you leave?” He asks, folding
his arms across his chest.

            “I’m not leaving anymore. I wanted to be
here when you woke up.”

            It’s the truth. I woke up about five am
and laid wide awake next to him, watching him sleep, listening to the sound of
his breathing and imagined a life where I wake up like this every morning, have
his coffee waiting when he wakes up and spending every moment we’re together
making him realise he’s always been the man for me, and I’m sorry for
everything we’ve been through the last month and a half.

            “I’m glad you did.” Deac sits next to me
at the kitchen table with his coffee and kisses me on the cheek.

            “But I have to go. I’m calling in every
favour I have to get the baking done for tomorrow.”

            “That’s why your dad suggested boy’s
night then.” He laughs. I didn’t know they were having a boy’s night.

            “He’ll probably get lonely without Mum
there, we’re camping out in the shop.” I stand and pull his sweatshirt over my
head, “Walk me to my car?”

            Deacon nods and stands with his coffee
following me through the house and to my car. He reaches in front of me and
opens my door, leaning in when I’ve slid in my seat and plugged my seatbelt in.

            “Thank you for last night,” I say,
noticing his face is inches from mine.

            “Any time.”

            He kisses me quickly on the lips, shuts
my door and watches as I drive away.

“Where have you been?” Comes a booming voice as I
walk in the front door. Oh my god.

            “Kip.”

            He’s standing in the hall way with his
hands in his tracksuit pockets, and I can see my family huddled in the kitchen,
watching.

            “Where were you?” He asks, stepping away
from the stairs and walking slowly towards me.

            “I stayed out.” I confess, wondering if
this is it. This is how he’ll find out I’ve been sneaking around behind his
back. And my family are here to discover what kind of person I’ve become, “At a
friend’s.”

            “Which friend?”

            “What is this, an interrogation?”

            “I want to know where you were and who
you were with, Jen.”

            “I stayed at Deacon’s house.”

            “What?”

            I don't know why it’s such a shock
really. If everyone else can see and feel what’s going on between me and Deacon
then I don't know why Kip is oblivious to it.

            “It’s the truth, you want me to lie
about it?”

            I’m so uncomfortable doing this in my
parents’ house, because I know they’re listening in to everything that’s being
said.

            “Are you sleeping with him?”

            “Jenna?” Mum calls from the kitchen.

 I glare up at Kip before stepping past him and
meeting my mum in the kitchen, noticing Dad and Jonas have disappeared. I hear
Kip climbing the stairs and let out a loud breath.

            “Everything okay?” I ask her, as she
pulls me in for a hug, “Mum?”

            “Don't tell him.” She whispers in my
ear, “You and Deacon are old friends, there’s no reason why you can't go round
to his house, have a few glasses of wine and stay in the spare room.”

            She lets me go and turns around,
continuing to mix a batter for pancakes. I was prepared to tell him, to admit
everything and be done with the wrongdoing and the guilt. But my mother just
told me to lie, I don't know why she did that, and it’s thrown the confidence I
had to finally be honest out the window.

            I turn around like I’ve just been told
off and walk towards the stairs, about to go and tell another lie, because
there must be a reason Mum thinks I should.

            “Breakfast will be ready in ten
minutes!” Mum calls, loud enough for the entire village to hear as I walk up
the stairs, dreading what’s waiting when I get to my room and have lost my
bravado.

            “Kip?” I call, opening the door. He’s
sitting on my bed, looking out of the window.

            “What did your mum want?”

            Shit.

            “She asked if I wanted pancakes. She’s
made organic so you can have some too.”

            Lie number one; no way would my mother
buy organic ingredients but I’m hoping she’ll play along and Kip won't taste
the difference.

            “You didn’t answer my question.” He’s
still not looking at me and I feel like this is the end.

             I take a deep breath; I don't know if I
can lie again. And I’m lying about something I just want to tell the truth
about.

            “No.” I take another steadying breath,
“No I’m not sleeping with him. He’s an old friend. We fell out when his dad
died. He’s like family and I spent the evening there to catch up, had too much
wine and stayed over.”

            “In his bed?”

            “In the spare room his mother often
sleeps in. Where has all this come from?”

            “I don't know.” He stands up and looks
at me, biting his nails, “Maybe the fact I got here early to surprise my
fiancé, and find out she’s stayed at another man’s house. A man who clearly
wants her.”

            So he has noticed the chemistry. I stand
frozen in the spot, not wanting to make this worse, and glad I showered this
morning. I feel horrible. Kip is a great guy and I’ve betrayed him; and here I
stand continuing to lie about it. Shit.

            “I don't want to talk about this
anymore.” I turn towards the door, “He’s in my life, and you need to accept
that.”

            “So that’s what you’re after?” He asks
and I turn back to look at him, “Attention from two men?”

            “If you don't know me better than that
then this isn’t working.”

            I leave him there, and I pray for the
coward’s way out. Maybe he’ll think about it and realise we’ve never been right
for each other. Our relationship the past three years has been one of
reliability and convenience. Two words that should never be used when
describing a relationship.

            I have to end this, there is no other
option. Whether Deacon and I make it or not, I can't be with anyone else. It’s
unfair on Kip and I’m becoming someone I don't want to be.

            “We’re going out on the boat at lunch
time,” Jonas says, directing the conversation at me and completely ignoring
Kip, “wanna come? Do a bit of fishing, take a few beers.”

            Kip puts his cutlery down, “Jenna and
I-”

            “We’d love to,” I put on my best smile
and cut Kip off before he decides we’re spending the day together. The last
thing I want is to be on my own with him.

            “If I’d have known you were so
disobedient,” Kip whispers, leaning close enough that no one else can hear, “I
wouldn’t have proposed.”      

            “Maybe you shouldn’t have,” I snap and
stand to clear my plate and turn to Jonas, “why don't you take Kip out? He
loves fishing. I’ve got to get to the shop.”

            I don't go to the shop; Mum and I spend
the rest of the morning walking around the wholesalers. I send Deacon a text,
telling him Kip has come early, and warn him he’ll be there for boy’s night,
and wander around the shop, knowing I can't buy anything else, but I can’t go
to the bakery until Kip is on the boat and a mile out to sea.

            “Why did you tell me to lie?” I ask as
we browse the cookie cutters.

            “Things are complicated aren’t they?”
She asks, “I know you and Deac are... active.”

            Oh god, “Yes.” Is all I say, answering
both questions without going into detail.

            “Did you really want to tell Kip the
truth standing in our house?” I shake my head, “I wasn’t telling you to lie, I
was just reminding you there’s a time and a place for confessions.”

            She’s right, as always. I don't want to
hurt Kip, and embarrassing him in front of my family would have just caused
more trouble.

            “You’re right,” I say, throwing some
animal cookie cutters in the basket, for Phillipa.

            “Sometimes it helps to talk.” Mum hugs
me and once again, she’s right.

            I know what I want; I’ve always known. I
never gave myself to anyone, never made long-term plans with Kip, never contemplated
moving in or having children because it’s everything I’ve ever wanted with one
person. I’ve never been more prepared to take the risk; Deacon wants me to be
his. I always have been.

            “Jade wants us to pick her up on the way
home,” I say, reading her text, disappointed it’s not from the only person I
want to talk to, “Steve wants the car while he has Pip.”

            I spend too much money in the
wholesalers, cram it all in the boot of my car, and drive us to pick up Jade.

            The women of the family have agreed to
camp out in the shop, getting everything ready for the fete tomorrow. It’s an
annual thing; I haven’t been for years and I’m really looking forward to it.
So, Mum, Emma, Jade, Grace and I are spending the evening in the shop, baking
the cakes I came up with for the Folquay family day of the year.

            “What do I do with the eggs?” Grace asks
as I’m setting another batch of cakes onto a cooling rack.

            “Whisk them up with the vanilla and
milk. Then pour it in the mix in halves.”

            Mum and Jade are busy making up the
different colour icings, Emma is on my raspberry ripple cupcakes and I’m trying
to juggle helping them all. We’ve been in the shop all evening and it’s dark
outside.

            The sound of laughter cuts through our
nineties women playlist and we all look to the front of the shop. I curse,
remembering I didn’t lock the door when we got here this afternoon, as an
unrecognisable voice calls something out in a Chinese accent. Oh my god. We all
look to each other, none of us volunteering to check out who’s come in the
shop. A few chairs fall to the floor and a tell tale sound of a table scraping
against the floor makes us all jump.

            “Boo!”

            Jonas and Deacon fall into the kitchen
in a tangle and Grace screeches before she realises who it is.

            “What did I say about the heart
attack?!” I cry, as they stumble to balance, “Beer or vodka?”

            “Both.” Jonas laughs, making a beeline
for Grace who has more cake mix on her clothes than she has in her mixing bowl.

            “Deac, aren’t you supposed to be at
boy’s night?” Emma asks. Mum is in the corner laughing.

            “Esteban cracked out the whiskey,”
Deacon slurs, “then fell asleep. So we went out for food. We got Chinese.”

            That explains the accent. Deacon talks
to Emma, but doesn’t take his eyes off me. I don't care what anyone else around
me is doing; I can't take my eyes off him either. In forty eight hours I plan
to make him mine. I just have to get through this fete with the entire town,
and then a dinner with Kip. Just me and him. That’s why he was meant to be coming
down tomorrow after the fete. But he turned up this morning and messed
everything up.

            “You didn’t bring us any?” Mum asks. We
all groan in unison, realising we haven’t eaten.