Pierce My Heart (Women of Willowbrook Book 1) (12 page)

“If you don’t feel it now and know why, you will, Anna. I promise that too.”

I open my mouth, ready to ask what
that
means, even though I’m pretty sure I know and a part of me, stupidly, wants to argue, but he just shakes his head and drops a kiss on my forehead before taking a couple steps back.

It keeps getting worse and worse.

The last time I’d lost the feel of him in the parking lot sucked, but this time
seriously
sucked. The only thing not making it worse was the lingering warmth of his lips on my forehead.

An insane part of me wanted to reach out and wrap myself around him like a monkey, but the sane part kept me in check.

It also helps that he held his hand out for me.

“Let’s head in. This isn’t the time or place, and everyone’s probably wondering where we are.”

I slide my hand into his.

“Oh, no. They’re not. I bet you they’ve been looking out the window since Evan and Robby walked away with Juliet,” I say in hopes of lightening the serious mood we’ve fallen into—though, I’m not lying.

My family is unpredictable, but they are predictable when it comes to being nosey and in your business.

His head turns to look over his shoulder at the big, wide window in the living room that faces out to the front and I see when he realizes I’m right.

He turns back with a look close to amusement.

“Told ya,” I smirk.

Chuckling, he gives my hand a squeeze then turns to lead me up the walk and into the lion’s den.

Drunken Sorority Girl

The second we walk into the house all eyes swing to us.

And when I say all, I mean even the dog’s.

I have two options: blush and get embarrassed or ignore everyone.

It isn’t a hard choice.

I let loose a smile, which by the looks on their faces is surprising, and head for the living room to the one person who isn’t hovering.

“Hey, Daddy,” I say, leaning down to lay a kiss on his cheek since he’s sitting in his chair.

He beams bright and stands up, pulling me into his arms.

“Hey, baby girl,” Dad croons and I close my eyes, smiling, squeezing just a little tighter at the name he’s been calling me since I was little.

Doesn’t matter how old I am, I absolutely love it.

I pull back, sliding my arms till my hands rest on Dad’s still firm biceps and give him a once over.

He’s in his usual ‘guests are coming over’ attire of blue jeans, t-shirt, and socks. If it’d been any other night but Saturday dinner, you’d catch him in a t-shirt or athletic top with athletic shorts. Most of the time you found him with tennis shoes on, laces undone—like he was ready to spring into action whenever.

His white tee stretches at his stomach from the copious amounts of beer, chips, and fried foods he indulges in, but that doesn’t mean he’s a slouch. He could (and still would) show up any young gun at a construction site. He’d worked hard so he could play hard and enjoy life how he saw fit.

His hair is starting to fill in at the sides with a silvery gray he leaves alone, while Mom colors hers to keep the blonde bright and in style. I know under that she has a small amount of gray at her temples.

With my brothers it’d be an impossibility not to have any.

The years have been kind to both my parents; lines were sparse and mainly found around their eyes and mouths from all the smiles and time they spent in the sun. Dad has a permanent tan that makes him look like he’s from other parts of the world instead of born and raised right here in Willowbrook.

Overall, Dad looks good, but looks can be deceiving.

“How are you?”

“I’m good, though your Mom’s started talking about cutting back on the fried food. Not sure how I feel about that one,” he says, making a face that looks like something tastes sour.

I laugh, giving his biceps a squeeze.

He lets me go, but swings his arm around my shoulders to pull me close. “How are
you
doing, baby girl?” he asks, his eyes flicking from me over to Jake and back, making his meaning clear.

I’m not sure what to say about it.

I know what I want to say, though it terrifies me to admit, but I’m not sure. And since I’m not sure, I decide to go for vague.  

“Good, Dad. Nothing to complain about.”

He looks at me, searching my face for anything amiss.

I’m guessing he sees good things, or at least nothing worrisome, because he gives me a smile and a squeeze.

“Now tell me about this little lady here,” he demands, gesturing to Juliet who is at the moment getting head scratches from Jake.

When she’d wandered over there from Evan, I have no clue.

The man is so…
man
, he’s even drawing my dog in.

I’m not sure if that’s good or not.

Deciding to push all thoughts of how much of a man Jake is out of my mind (which was no easy feat), I focus on Dad and telling him all about how I adopted Juliet.

And just as I finish the story of Juliet spilling dog food all over the house (a part that made Dad throw his back in laughter as I giggle along), I hear it.

Still coming down from Dad’s infectious laughter, my eyes search out the sound.

He’s leaning, shoulder against the wall with both hands in his pockets. Juliet’s lounging on his feet and Robby and Nate are in front of him with their arms crossed and feet wide, poses mimicking each other—most likely on accident since Dad stood the exact same way on occasion.

At first I think the poses are defensive but then I notice both Nate and Robby’s identical smirks from the side. My lips curve into a smile before I move my attention back to Jake.   

He’d been laughing.

His laughter has died out, but a smile still remains.

It’s a smile that says he’s relaxed and having a good time.

That he’s happy right where he is, doing exactly what he’s doing.

And seeing that on his face while surrounded by people I love, something deep inside me settles.

He either feels me looking or has a sixth sense (both are plausible at this point, but my money’s on the sixth sense) because his head suddenly turns and his eyes seek me out. He doesn’t make a move to head my way, doesn’t tip his head or lift his chin, just holds my gaze as the smile on his face changes. It still says all that it said before, except it seems to have jumped in intensity.

I have no idea how he manages to express that since literally
nothing
changed on his face, but he does, and I like it.

Way
more than I should after knowing him one day.

Before I manage to do something utterly stupid, like waltz over and ask for a kiss (or just take one), Mom walks in from the kitchen.

“All right, dinner’s done. Scoot into the dining room,” she announces, then turns and heads back towards the kitchen.

Dad and I start to move that way, but I suddenly find myself out from under his arm and stuck in a Maddy, Evan sandwich. Dad looks at the three of us and shakes his head, knowing better than to get in the middle.

When he walks ahead of us I make a face at his back.

Coward.

Next thing I know, I’m being herded like a drunken sorority girl out of the living room, down the hallway and into the dining room.

We’re a big family that’s full of love, so we almost always have a cousin or friend tagging along with us. Because of that, Mom talked Dad into building a huge ass dining table to accommodate all the ‘love’ we bring with us.

It’s rectangular in shape, thick sturdy legs, the whole thing stained a cool antique oak that lets the natural character of the wood Dad used stand out. It sits up to twelve in a pinch, but eight comfortably.

Instead of Dad making chairs to match, Mom had scoured every estate sale, furniture store, garage sale, and antique shop she could find for something to fit. She ended up with chairs that were upholstered with navy blue cloth on the backs and seats and looked like they were
made
for the table.

And when I look at those seats, I notice they’ve taken the liberty of making seating arrangements.

I manage to roll my eyes before I’m shoved—none too gently—by Evan (surprise, surprise) towards the seat next to Jake.

Dad sits at the head of the table, Mom to his right, Nate to his left with Robby opposite at the foot of the table, Maddy on his right and Jake on his left. That means I sit between Jake and Nate while Evan’s between Mom and Maddy. Meaning, she’s in a prime position to dish out shin kicks and big eyes all night long.

Fantastic.

The bonus of the night is Nate’s favorite dinner.

Mom’s homemade chili and cinnamon rolls.

Odd combination I know, but you get that spicy, hearty flavor of chili and then the fluffy, sweetness of those big, pull-apart cinnamon rolls. Although, I’m the weird one that adds a ton of stuff to the chili—sour cream, tomatoes, crackers, and cheese.

Mom, being Mom and knowing me, knows to put all that on the table.

So, when I sit down I decide to ignore everyone and everything for the moment, including who I’ve been sat next to, and immediately start adding all of the above to my bowl.

At least, that’s the plan.

“Jesus,” he mumbles.

The tone of his voice has me turning my head to him. The look of disgust mingled with amusement on his face is one I definitely haven’t seen on him yet. I’m not sure whether to laugh or take offense—that is until the chorus starts to chime in.

There are laughs from Evan, Maddy, Nate… Well, everyone except the two of us.

“Don’t mind Anna, Jake,” Mom says. “She has…selective tastes.”

She’s trying to sugarcoat my weirdness.

“Yeah, meaning she likes to add weird ass shit to Mom’s food and ruin it,” Nate throws out with an exaggerated shiver of disgust.

“Nathan, watch your mouth,” Mom snaps.

He looks a little annoyed at being reprimanded, and being the good sister I am I don’t rub his nose in it…too much. I just stick my tongue out at him.

“What are you guys, five?” Robby asks.

Nate mumbles under his breath and sits back in his chair, focusing on his food. I, on the other hand, swing a glare his way. He has no problem weathering it and just continues to stare at me.

I can hold my glare but I’ve learned over the years that it doesn’t really have much effect on anyone in my family—no matter how many times I’ve tried (and I’ve tried a lot).

So, I go for broke.

I bring my hand up fast, squeeze my cheeks together with my thumb and middle finger to give myself fish lips, use my index to push my nose up into a pig’s nose, cross my eyes, and tilt my head at him.

His eyes go wide and he slaps a hand over his mouth while choking and laughing around the bite he’s just taken.

My whole body jerks as I drop my hand to rub the sharp pain in my shin and slice my eyes Evan’s way with a glare of her very own.

She’s looking at me like I’m mental and it isn’t until I register his laughter with everyone else’s that I realize I probably am.

Honestly.

Who in their right mind sticks their tongue out and then makes a pig nose face at the dinner table around a guy who looks like, acts like, or just
is
, Jake?

I lay my right arm on the table, my head dropping to it, and groan inwardly.

I am a nut job.

My body freezes at the feel of his hand covering my left, which is resting on my thigh. I peek at him from the side and see he has a small, amused smile on his face and soft eyes. He gives my hand a firm squeeze before letting go and, wouldn’t you know it, spooning some tomatoes into his chili along with the cheese—though, he avoids the crackers and sour cream.

Everyone at the table has resumed their conversations; Evan telling Mom and Maddy about some things they have coming into the shop next week and Jake, Robby, and Nate dissecting the plays in one of last night’s hockey games. Dad, though, is sitting here, looking at everyone around the table, with a peaceful smile on his face. When he sees me, his smile turns up just a bit, but it also gets a little cautious when his eyes flick to Jake.

I might talk to my girls—Mom included—about everything (well,
almost
everything), but Dad
never
misses a thing.

Dad and I have a special relationship.

We may not talk about everything, but I know that he always,
always
supports me in whatever I do and just wants me safe and happy in life; to be able to take care of myself when he leaves this world for the next. We’ve struggled to get to the point where we are (mainly because I’d been a hormonal teenage girl with a ton of feelings and he’s a man’s man who didn’t handle teenage girls and feelings well). We butted heads (a lot), but we’re also a lot alike. It was after I’d moved home from school and before I’d decided to move out on my own that things really got better and I started opening up more.

No matter what, though, I always know that he loves me and just wants what’s best.

His cautious smile means he wants me happy and that he likes what he knows and can tell of Jake. Since I have an inkling of where things might go with Jake, but no idea of what will come of it, I return Dad’s smile with a cautious one of my own.

It must’ve come out more like a grimace if his chuckle is anything to go by.

After our little moment, he tunes into the sports talk and I listen in on both sides, just enjoying the company.

*              *              *

I’m coming out the bathroom when I hear heated voices coming from my right at the end of the hallway. Being the nosey girl I am, I tiptoe in that direction to see what the heck is going on, half preparing myself to intervene if Nate’s trying to taunt Robby into
another
wrestling match.

Between fending those two off trying to put me in a headlock and wading in when they were trying to body slam each other, I should’ve gotten a job refereeing for the WWE.  

Shaking my head, I move further along when I notice the voices are coming from the office on the left side with the door mostly closed. Just as I prepare to push in, I hear Robby say my name angrily.

“Seriously, J.T., what are you doing with Anna? And, how in the
fuck
do you even know her?”