Twice in a Lifetime (Love Found) (31 page)

Jake drove downtown, parked in a lot on Jefferson, near the arena. Hand-in-hand like lovers, they strolled. When the beguiling tang of tomato and garlic spilled through an open doorway and onto the sidewalk they turned in, found a table, and over lasagna and crusty bread caught up on each other’s lives.

His was full of work, getting the Cottonwood job back on track, and his dentist’s appointment. She told him about school, about how volunteering at the library wasn’t as much fun as she hoped. She’d had several meetings with the group organizing fundraisers for the women’s shelter. And Trey was due home around noon the next day. Monday was a holiday, he had three days.

He was happy, hopeful, for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime. He slipped his hand around Allie’s as they melted into the stream of bodies leaving the arena, knots of traffic tangling their way through the downtown streets around them. Impulsively, he sang a few bars, pulling her loosely into his arms for an impromptu two-step right there on the sidewalk. Laughing together they continued, talking about the music, and Trey, and a movie they both wanted to see. Jake held the car door while she climbed in. Pushing her door closed, he rounded to the other side.

She slipped off her heels as he settled in his seat, lifted her bare feet onto the brand new dash. “Oops!” Abruptly she stopped, shot him a quick look of chagrin, and dropped her feet back to the floor.

His eyes found hers, lingered for an elongated moment as green flecks danced. “Please, feel free.” He reached across the gearshift and with a wink lifted them one by one, cradled them with his thumb running across her instep until they rested on the leather.

Jake maneuvered the throaty sports car through heavy post-event traffic, negotiating the freeway exchanges around the airport with Indy precision until they were heading south through Tempe. Without commenting, she let her eyes follow his finger when he pointed out a granite and glass high-rise under construction off to the east. “One of Ryan’s.”

She nodded and let her eyes slide back, over bare feet featuring brightly-hued toes until she sat blindly, the road, the traffic, obscure images flashing past her window. After an evening of music, laughter, conversation, Jake was suddenly so quiet. What was he thinking? She rubbed a palm across her forehead, smoothing the tension there. Oh, man, she was confused.

She was happy when she was with Jake. Content. This was true. They enjoyed quiet evenings at home as well as rowdy moments lost in a crowd. She’d enjoyed herself tonight, but then, he made sure she did. He was always—always—considerate, attentive.

She pushed the fast forward button, landing in an uncertain future. What if? What if this was more than friendship? What if Reese and Maddie were right and Jake’s feelings for her were… strong? How did she feel about that? About Jake? He was Ben’s best friend, but Ben was gone. It took her years to make her own life, free from the anguish his dying left.

Jake was an important part of that life. If he left how would she feel? She kneaded her forehead again, bracketed her jaw in her hands, unable to even glance his way.

She couldn’t imagine her life without Jake in it.
What if he left and never came back? She always thought she loved him like a brother, and she had, for many years. But now—what she felt for him now went soul deep, far more consuming than anything she could have imagined.

She chanced a peek at him, found him studying the road as he twisted his way through her neighborhood, his mouth tight. What was he thinking? She couldn’t imagine. But her thoughts were suddenly clear. There’d been so many questions, so many problems over the years. But Jake was always there. With him there was only one possible solution.

Jake expertly steered through traffic. Tonight he was resolved. A mission, a plan, a purpose—whatever he wanted to call it—soon he would put it into action. The red glow of tail lights bled through the starlit darkness around them. The glaring headlights of the truck behind him blinded him in the rear view mirror. Soft strains of melody wove their way through the interior of his car. But Allie was quiet. Sober eyes stared out the window, still and solemn. He dug, rooting for the words he needed. The feelings he had for her ran deep, but how did he tell her, let her know what he wanted? He frantically searched, but his mind was blank, a dark, cavernous void. His heart plummeted, his breathing grew ragged. Once again he was a convict on death row, awaiting the executioner.

He pulled his car into Allie’s driveway. Shoved it into park and turned the key, killing the hum of the engine. If he didn’t do something with his hands he’d reach for her, embarrass them both. With his right he seized the gear shift lever like a drowning man desperately clutches a rope.

“Tonight was fun. Thanks for calling.”

She didn’t respond, but her hand lifted, hovered, sheltered his, resting on the leather-wrapped knob. His heart lifted, found its home, and raced even as his questioning eyes raced to meet hers. He turned his hand over, wrapped her fingers within his and added the slightest pressure.

Her mouth tipped in a delicate smile. “Do you want to come in? I bought an espresso machine, I could make lattes.” Her voice was high and fast, but also beseeching and his worry eased, a bit.

Coffee was the last thing he wanted tonight, but he wanted to come in. “Coffee sounds great.”

Wordlessly, Allie fumbled with the coffee maker, pressed freshly ground beans, steamed milk and added vanilla syrup. He carried the untouched drink into the living room and settled into a corner of the smooth leather sofa. She followed him into the room, pressed a remote and the voice of a powerful tenor filled the room. With another press the volume lowered. Grasping her mug, she eyed him as she crossed the room.

She drew closer—with a puzzled look in her eyes, lips slightly parted, and a sway in her hips that he’d practiced not noticing for years—and his brain clogged, his thoughts scattered like a herd of feral cats, unwilling to be tamed. The sofa shifted as she sat, crooked a knee and faced him. His heart beat erratically, trapped somewhere on its way to his throat.

He set his latte on the table, grateful his shaking hands could accomplish it without splashing. Allie still held her mug; he set it beside his and folded her hands in his, trapping them. He’d held her hands before, hundreds of times, but never with clammy palms. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice.

“Do you remember the night of Ben’s accident, Allie? We were talking to him before his surgery.”

She lowered her eyebrows, glanced away before meeting his eyes again. “Sure. How could I ever forget that night?”

“What Ben said to me—” His eyes hit the ceiling, searching for guidance, then drifted back to her. A small smile quirked one corner of his mouth. “What Ben said to me was, if something happened, if he didn’t make it out of surgery, he wanted me to take care of you. He made me promise.”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed, and her head shook from side to side. “Jake, you were the best friend a man could ask for. Ben loved you.” With a tug she freed her hands, reversed their positions so his large palms were held within hers, so much smaller. “And you have been here for me, and for Trey, whenever we needed you. I couldn’t ask for more than that.”

But he needed her to ask for more.

He bent one knee and pulled his leg onto the sofa, twisted to level their gazes, hands held, his thumbs locking them together, his heart thrumming in his chest. Words of love floated on the air, drifting through the room on seductive notes.

“Yes, well, there was something else, too. Something he knew, even though I never told him.”

Allie cocked her head. His eyes darted away and then back again, he sucked in a deep, unsteady breath and blew it out slowly through parted lips. Sitting on the sofa, facing her, he allowed his lips to curve in a hopeful smile. It was time to take the plunge.

“I’m in love with you, Allie. I’ve always loved you.”

Allie gasped and jerked her hands from around his, slapping her fists to her chest like it would protect her. “No. Jake, no. You can’t. I can’t.” Frantic now, her eyes were wide with alarm, her breaths coming in short gasps. “I promised I’d take care of you, too. I… can’t.”

The corners of his lips lowered until his smile was but a flimsy substitute. He’d come so far already. He’d taken the first halting step, he couldn’t let her shut him down. To see this through he had to leap.

“I learned—a long time ago—to be your friend, Allie. It was the only way I could be a part of your life.” A lifetime of yearning clotted his throat as the words, full of emotion, spilled from his mouth like floodwaters breaching a dam. “But now, now Ben’s been gone a long time and we’ve both done a lot of healing.” He reached for her hands again, lifted them from where they’d drifted to her lap.

“You’re an amazing woman, resilient and strong. I want to be your friend, but I love you. I want more.” Amazingly enough, the words he was unable to rehearse earlier came instinctively now. He brushed his lips across her knuckles.

“I need you, Allie. I need to be with you. I need to come home to you at the end of the day. To share my life with you, and to share yours. To sleep with you at night, and wake with you in the morning. And I think you need me, too.”

There it was. His heart—laid on the line for her to cherish or destroy. It cost him, but the past three years had cost Allie as well. Cost more than the time spent taking back her independence, but the reward was ineffable—Allie as a strong, resilient woman. Could he ever make her understand how proud he was of her?

A large gray moth fluttered against the screen of the open glass door. The antique Regulator clock ticked against the far wall. He sat, facing her, searching her eyes, searching her heart, waiting for a sign, scared to death.

Allie lifted her chin, determined steel gray eyes connecting with his, her fingers tightened around his, her face impassive.

“No, Jake. I don’t need you.

His eyelids squeezed shut. His breath hitched and faltered. His heart was breaking. Splintering into a million tiny shards, freefalling into the black hole of a life without her.

Then Allie, the woman he loved, the woman who was his life, released his hands to slide her fingers through the hair at his temples, then cupped his jaw in her graceful palms, drawing him nearer. His skin burned where her fingers lingered. The familiar scent of her shampoo and the subtle fragrance of blossoms floated over him a heartbeat before her words registered.

“Lord help me, I want you, but—.”

His world exploded like a kaleidoscope, bursts of color shifting and reflecting before spinning back to a pinpoint of emotion centered on three words as his eyes snapped open and heated and two fingers covered her lips, preventing her from finishing her thought.

His heart leapt and he smiled, more from relief than happiness. “You want me.” He withdrew his fingers, the memory of her still warm on them. Testing, his lips brushed hers with the force of butterfly wings. Just let them skim, soft and querying before drawing back, her soft scent surrounding him. He had dreamed of this, wanted this, but hadn’t dared to hope. Could it be real?

Eyes locked on hers, his hands skimmed the thin cotton at her waist before drawing her against him. He’d held her narrow waist before, helping her into his truck or out of his boat, but tonight her heart fluttered against his chest where they met, making desire pool in his belly.

She scraped his bottom lip with bared teeth even as his palms skated over her shoulders and down her arms. “I want you in my life, too.”

The quivers chasing down his spine had him groaning. His abdomen sucked in as her hands drifted across those muscles and locked behind him. “I want you every day.” Her lips teased the column of his throat, pausing to murmur against the throbbing beat that pulsed throughout his body in time to the bold, passionate rhythm of the music.

He let his lips become bold as well—firm, strong, insistent—as he lifted her jaw and met her lips and his brain struggled to process this glorious chain of events.
She wanted him!
His blood quickened in his veins. At last, she was his! His hands trembled as they moved again, mapping her familiar figure in an unfamiliar way. His thumbs brushed against the sides of her breasts and she arched into him. Her low hum of pleasure against his mouth had his dick surging against his zipper. “Dear, God, please don’t pull away.”

With eyes dilated, as deeply black as his must be, she withdrew and he nearly wept as his arms loosened around her. But she merely searched his eyes, then his face, and lifted her lips in a smile. “I love you.” Sweetly, quietly, so very Allie, she lowered her lips again, took his mouth, claimed it in a kiss full of promise.

A kiss that questioned, tenderly and cautious.

Boldly and without reserve, he allowed his lips to answer.

As if dazed, she rose.

As if connected, he followed, and without hesitation gathered her lean curves to him and pressed his mouth to hers in a kiss so deep the heat of it spread throughout his limbs.

She pulled back again, studying his features. “I want to wake up with you in the morning.” Her deft fingers freed his shirt button; her gaze turned hot before it lowered to follow her hands, baring a fine sprinkling of chest hairs that tapered to trail down his abdomen.

His heart thundered at the novelty of her gentle hands on his bare skin. “Mmm. Tomorrow morning.”

Spreading the separated halves of his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders and down his arms, scattered kisses followed her fingers. “Mmm hmm. Every day.” Hooded hazel eyes finally lifted, glittering with hunger.

He stopped her hands as they reached for his zipper. “Sounds like a hell of an idea.” And as he reached down to scoop her into his arms, shifted her with a bounce and carried her down the hallway, his heart soared in his chest.