Pierce My Heart (Women of Willowbrook Book 1) (15 page)

“I mean, I have my family, my friends and I love them. From the bottom of my heart, I do. But sometimes I’m just…lonely. I saw that in her eyes. I knew I could love her, could make it so she wasn’t lonely anymore. I wanted to give that to her,” I tell him.

He gets a weird look then proceeds to leave me breathless.

“Who’s gonna give that to you, sweetheart?” he whispers.

I freeze.

What do you even say to that?

The arm resting on the bench comes around me as the hand on my chin becomes a hand on my cheek.

“I, um,” I start then stop, then start again. “I don’t know.”

I stare at him and he stares back.

Then, he starts leaning in.

Moving closer.

My eyes widen a millisecond before they start closing. His lips are a breath away when his phone starts shouting some Quiet Riot and my eyes pop open.

“Fuck,” he bites out.

His gaze flicks to my lips then back to my eyes before leaning back. Shoving his hand into his pocket, he pulls his phone out and smashes the button. “What?” he clips.

Someone isn’t happy to be interrupted.

Then again, neither am I.

“This better be fucking good, Man.”

At that I attempt to get up and give him some space but the hand that was on my shoulder moves and clamps down on my waist, effectively immobilizing me. I swivel my head his way and he gives me a look that tells me to stay put.

So, I try to scoot down the bench just to give him a little bit of privacy, but that’s met with another squeeze and him hauling me right back next to him.

I glare at him, but he takes the glare and gives me the same look again while he listens to whoever is on the phone.

I give up, cross my arms, and settle in.

“You’re fucking shitting me,” he snaps.

I uncross my arms, turning a little bit into him.

“You sure?”

A response from the other line.

“Jesus Christ,” he says roughly, not bothering to hide his pissed off vibe.

I put my hand on his chest, not even aware I’m doing so as I try to give him some comfort and calm the anxiety I feel building inside of me.

He looks down and focuses on my hand, staying that way a moment before bringing his eyes back up to me.

“Right. I gotta drop Grace off and get Romeo home, but I’ll be there soon.”

He hit the button on his phone, slips it back in his pocket then drags a hand down his face.

“Is everything ok, Jake?” I ask tentatively.

It isn’t my place to ask him, but the conversation did not seem good, and neither did he.

He drops his hand before responding, weirdly in a way like he’s trying to convince himself and not me.

“It will be.”

Okay then.

He gives my waist a squeeze while he grabs my hand on his chest and brings it up to his lips, giving my knuckles a soft kiss before pulling us both up.

Grace walks over suddenly, both dogs at her heels and a worried look on her face.

“What’s going on, Jake?” she asks, her voice full of concern.

“Nothing to worry about, Cece. I need to drop you off and get Romeo home, gotta be somewhere.”

A myriad of emotions crosses his face, but the one that strikes me the most is the lost look. For some reason seeing Jake lost—in any way—is a hard thing to witness. I don't like it. So much so, I decide to do something about it.

Since his arm is still around my waist I get close and wait until he tips his head down to look at me. “Jake, I can take Grace home for you, even take Romeo with me if you want.”

His head rears back, surprise written all over him.

“You’d do that?” he asks.

I shrug my shoulders. “It’s no problem. I’d like to help how I can.”

He stares at me a beat, eyes searching mine before looking to Grace.

“You cool with that, Cece?”

“Works for me. Though, why doesn’t Romeo stay with me since he’s already done it before?” she asks him, but looking at me. “No offense to you or anything, I just don’t want him to cause you any problems.”

I smile to let her know I understand. “Whatever works for him.”

“Alright. I’ll get them settled in your car,” she offers, tightening her hands on both of their leashes and heading towards the parking lot.

I pull my keys out of my pocket and beep the locks for her. A squeeze on my waist has me tilting my head back.

“Thank you for this, Anna,” he says, sincerity ringing through his words.

I give him a smile, sans teeth. “Happy to help.”

He leans down, kisses my forehead, then leads us to my car where he leans in the back to give Romeo scratches before giving Grace a cheek kiss.

“I’ll grab him later tonight, tomorrow if it takes long. That work?”

“No worries. We’ll have a fun time together,” she tells him, sliding into the passenger seat.

He wanders over to my side of the car where I’m standing outside still. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he stands close enough I can feel his heat, but he doesn't make a move to touch me.

“We’ll talk soon. We’ve got a conversation to finish,” he informs me.

I just nod, unsure of how that's going to play out.

He nods his head then backs away slowly before turning and heading to his truck.

It takes me a minute—and Grace repeatedly calling my name—before I stop staring at the spot his truck had been parked and get my ass in my car.

The second I do, I catch Grace’s face and hold my breath. Finally, a huge, blinding smile hits her face.

I feel my own lips twitch, but don't smile back (a serious feat). Instead I look away, feigning ignorance.

Luckily, she lets it go.

We make it to her place which, incidentally, is only a couple streets over from me in a house similar to mine (similar in the sense that it’s a one story).

The couple streets over is a
whole
different tax bracket, and her place shows it.

It’s easily twice the size of mine and a pretty gray, blue color, the shutters and front door an off-white that matches perfectly. A long front porch runs the length of the whole right side—loveseat swing and rocking chairs included—and overlooks a garden that would make my mother envious. It’s stuffed full of flowers (some I recognize and some I don’t), and a huge cherry tree in mid color change completes the picturesque view.

“Oh my God. Your place looks beautiful,” I gush, pointing out the obvious.

“Thank you,” she says with a smile and blush. “Oh! Before I go, give me your number.”

Caught off guard by her sudden change of topic, I just look at her. When I see that she's already pulling her phone out of her bag, I start rattling off my number while she punches it in.

“Alrighty. Now I won’t have to pester my brother for details about what’s happening in his love life. I can just call the source,” she grins.

My jaw drops.

“What? That’s not…there’s nothing—you’re crazy,” I sputter.

She let out a giggle, but I can swear I hear it as an evil cackle in my head.

“There’s absolutely no point in even
attempting
to deny that there’s something going on between the two of you. Don’t you even try; you’d just be wasting your breath.”

I'm dumbfounded.

The Grace I met before was quiet and sweet, almost shy.

The Grace I'm talking to now isn’t even close to that.

She’s like a quieter version of Evan.

Fantastic
.

She throws open the door, slides out, grabs her shit,
and
manages to get Romeo out without letting Juliet make a break for it.

And I
still
have no response for her.

“Talk to you soon,” she says with a wink and a jaunty wave before heading up her walk.

Great.

I mentally shake myself, throw my car in reverse, and drive the couple streets over back home.

Once I make it into the house and lug all my purchases in, I head for the kitchen.

I need caffeine.

Or, alcohol.

Head Bob and All

It’s Wednesday night.

Three days since I’ve seen Jake.

After the two days in a row it seemed like a long time to not see him, but I’d kind of been hiding out at my place. And since he didn’t know where I lived, there was no way I would see him.

But, he’d said we’d talk soon.

He has my number.

He just didn’t use it.

Then again, whatever call he’d gotten at the park seemed
serious
, so he could be busy (though I don’t know anything that occupies your day, all day, for multiple days).

I mentally scold myself.

Crimeny, I sound like a whiney girlfriend.

*              *              *

After I got back to my place on Sunday I made dinner, binge watched some Outlander with Juliet, and went to bed early; images of what could’ve happened on that park bench filling my dreams.

Monday morning, I had to face reality.

I’d gotten fired the previous week because no matter how nice my boss was, he could only handle my being late so many times and I’d reached that mark.

I wasn’t heartbroken over it.

I was an office assistant for a physical therapist, but I liked the people I worked with and that was hard to come by.

So I got ready (dragging my feet a little) and drove over to Dad’s main office—I figured Robby would be the one on site so Dad and Mom would be there.

It made things easier having to tell the story and grovel just once.

I pulled up, saw I’d been right when I caught sight of Dad’s red truck and Mom’s Lexus, got myself then Juliet out of the car (I figured she’d help the situation with her cuteness), walked up the steps and went in.

The floor inside was plush gray carpet with little flecks of cream that matched the paint on the walls. A couple black leather couches sat in the waiting area, a square glass coffee table stacked with magazines between them. The whole room was bathed in light thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows on either side of the entrance. The actual light that sat on the desk in the waiting area held no use till night, and since they were rarely open past five I figured it was all part of Mom’s decorating. The desk itself came to a point, the corner angled like an arrow to the door, leaving the person two stations: one facing the waiting room and the other facing the hallway.

Mom usually just hung around in her office—across from the waiting room on the left side of the entrance—doing all the paperwork, but left the door open so if anyone came in she could hear.

Dad and Robby both had offices all the way down the hallway—Dad on the left, Robby to the right. But since they always had a trailer on site to work in, Robby rarely used his.

At the very end of the hallway was a conference room. Well, another office they’d turned into a conference room, which was also rarely used since Dad took most of his meetings in his office. The only time the conference room was needed was when there were more than four people to deal with (things tended to get crowded then).

When I walked in the small bell above the door rang out, making Juliet let out a small woof in return.

“Be with you in just a minute,” Mom called from the back.

I walked forward, my head swinging left to see if she was in her office. When I saw no one, I headed towards the back to Dad’s. His door was only cracked open, so to be safe I rapped the door with my knuckles before pushing in.

Dad was sitting in his huge, black leather chair, Mom standing next to him, both bent and looking at something laid out on his desk with their heads up and aimed towards the door. When they saw it was me, a toothy grin hit Dad’s mouth and a small one hit Mom’s.

“Well, look who’s here. What brings you by, baby girl?” Dad asked, leaning back in his chair.

I walked forward and plopped into one of the dark green cloth armchairs in front of his desk, Juliet coming to a stop next to me. At the uneasy look on my face, Mom frowned and stood up and Dad leaned forward, his smile gone as well.

“I need to tell you guys something.”

They didn't say anything, but Mom gave me an encouraging look.

I took a deep breath.

“I, um, kind of got fired last week,” I squeaked out meekly.  

Mom’s eyes widened.

Dad’s face showed a mixture of displeasure and happiness.

“How do you ‘kind of’ get fired?” Dad wondered.

I opened my mouth, but Mom got there first.

“Late too many times?” she guessed with a knowing look on her face.

I gave them a sheepish look before nodding my head.

No one said anything for a minute.

“I was wondering if I could pick up some hours around here?”

Mom and Dad look at one another; a conversation being held with no words.

They did that
all
the time. But, I guess if you’d been married twenty-nine years like them you’d be able to do the same.

Then again, it could just be them.

They
were
a little weird.

For as long as I could remember they’d always been overtly affectionate with each other. Always close or touching, then when we got older, Dad going in for a grope. That was always a little awkward when helping Mom with dinner in the kitchen; Dad would come in for a beer and give Mom a slap or a squeeze on the ass.

We learned to just turn our heads and let them do their thing.

I was happy for them, though. If they could go as long as they had and still be so in love, there was always hope.

Mom turned back first. “There’s really not a whole lot here, my girl.”

I slumped a little.

I
hated
job hunting.

“But…” she trailed off, and I perked back up.

“But, Robby could use some help in the office on site,” Dad finishes for her.

“You’d be doing more of the financials, billing and all that, instead of answering phones and making appointments, but I figure you can handle it.”

I nodded my head, “Yeah, that’d be no problem.”

Dad gave me a look then asked, “Is this just an in the meantime thing, or are you gonna stick around for a while?”

I thought about it for a second.

The main reason I hadn’t gone back to work for my parents when I moved home was because the P.T. office I’d worked for in New Falls had a branch in Willowbrook. When I left school, they were able to work out a transfer and find me a spot in town, but I had liked working for my parents while I was in high school.

Even if my family would likely drive me crazy (or crazier), I think I’d enjoy it more than I had.

“I’d like to stick around for a while, if you guys are cool with it.”

A relieved look hits both my parents’ faces.

“Oh, my girl, I was hoping you’d say that. With your Dad giving more and more responsibilities to your brother, he’s got more free time on his hands and someone needs to make sure he doesn’t spend his days causing a ruckus,” Mom told me.

I smirk.

She was so full of shit.

She didn't like being stuck in the office all day away from him.

Don’t get me wrong, she enjoyed her time alone and had no problem shoving Dad out of the house to get it, but like I said, they loved each other and wanted to be around each other, no matter how much they irritated the other.

Dad gave Mom a look. One I tried to ignore the meaning of.

Ugh.

“It’d be nice to be able to free my time up more and I’d much rather have someone in the family taking care of things than hiring out. I didn’t want to bring it up and pressure you because I know you liked your other job and I didn’t want you to feel like you
had
to come back here. But I’m happy to hear you want to stick around,” Mom confessed.

 I knew they wanted the business in the family, I just thought they meant with Robby and (or) Nate running it.

I smiled brightly at them.

The fact I didn’t have to go job hunting
and
that I was making them happy meant my happiness increased tenfold.

“When do you want me to start?”

“Well, how about you come tomorrow? We’ll get you re-acquainted with everything here, and then Wednesday or Thursday we’ll send you out to the site. Sound good?” she asks.

I nodded at Mom, still smiling.

This time both of their smiles came back as well.

Dad claps his hands together and Mom’s and my head swing his way.

“I think we should celebrate. Who’s up for pecan pie and ice cream?” he asked, rubbing his hands together and giving me a wink before looking at Mom.

I laughed.

Mom rolled her eyes.

“John, you don’t need pie.”

“Woman, I’m sixty-one years old. If I want pie, I’ll have it,” he argued.

“Just because you want it, doesn’t mean you
need
it,” she told him.

If I had a dollar for every time me, Robby, or Nate heard that as a kid, we’d be retired on our own island. An island we got to with our own private jets.

Yes,
jets
.

Plural.

He gave her a look.

“I was wrong. I don’t want it, I
need
it.”

I clapped my hand over my mouth to hold in my laughter.

Mom gave him a small glare.

“How about an apple instead?”

“Apple pie sounds good too,” he responds with a nod, ignoring the way her eyes get squinty.

I snorted, and Mom turned her glare to me.

“Anna, don’t encourage your father,” she snapped.

I swallowed down my laughter, dropped my hand and shook my head, indicating I wasn’t, even though my snort of laughter kind of killed that.

She turned back to dad. “You don’t need pie, of
any
kind.”

“If I want a pie, I’ll damn well have a pie. But before I do, I’ll fire me up a huge steak, some corn, and potatoes.”

“Yeah? And who’s going to make those potatoes for you, cause it sure won’t be me,” she challenged.

“Yeah, it will,” he said with confidence.

“No way, bucko,” she denied with a shake of her head.

With my head swinging back and forth I felt like I was at a tennis match. Keeping watch while I waited to see who would be the one to miss the ball.

“You know why?” he prompted.

She rolled her eyes and gestures. “Do enlighten me, Johnathan.”

Oh boy, full name.

“Because you love me, sweet cheeks, and I love you,” he answered with a soft, yet arrogant tone.

Only he could pull that off. And by the looks of Mom, he did it well.

The wind was out of her sails and a smile was playing at her lips.

“Cheater,” she muttered.

“Only when it comes to getting all your love.”

“You’re ridiculous, and you’re still not getting a pie. Maybe just a slice,” she relented.

He shook his head as his hand shot out, grabbing hold of her while he laughed.

She bent down, giving him a kiss.

And that was my cue.

I pushed up, waking Juliet from her nap on the floor, and start to head out of the door.

“You leaving already?” Mom asked.

I looked over at her and shrug. “Yeah, I’ve got some laundry and cleaning to do. Might as well get it done today.”

She nodded her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Be here around nine. Love you, my girl,” she said.

I nodded mine that time.

“Will do. Love you, Mom. Love you too, Dad.”

“Love you, baby girl.”

After giving them a smile and wave combo, I headed out.

*              *              *

Monday night was spent drinking wine, making pasta, avoiding everyone, and doing laundry. All mingled with some bad dancing and loud singing. Juliet was a fan, until I started hitting those Mariah Carey notes (and when I say hit, I meant screeched).

Tuesday was filled with refreshing my memory of the system we used. Unfortunately, I was a lot rustier than I thought I’d be (that or I had a total memory lapse). Because of that, Mom didn’t get around to showing me the new things I’d be doing so I’d had to go back Wednesday for more lessons.

Tuesday night was filled with much of the same as Monday; though it was a different wine, I was baking some white chocolate chip cookies, and instead of laundry, I threw in some Netflix seeing as I had the time.

I hadn’t talked to Evan at all on Monday or Tuesday, but with the weather being warm those days her dad, Marcus, probably took her mom out hiking both days leaving her with some long shifts. She didn’t mind; she was happy to be able to let them get some time together, but it always made her a little cranky (seeing as she couldn’t harass everyone the way she wanted to since she was stuck in one place).