Winter's Path: (A Seasmoke Friends Novel) (20 page)

Guilt hit. She worked late hours and the fragile time we had together was probably cutting into her sleep. “Can you take the night off?”

A head shake. “Not with closing the bar on Saturday. I’m down a waitress tonight, too.”

I glanced at the clock and noted she had a couple hours until she had to be in. I could clean up after she left. “Come here.” Rising, I took her hand and led her into the living room.

After sitting in the large recliner, I patted my lap for her to join me. She climbed on, her legs dangling off the side of the chair. She looked up at me in question.

Smiling, I pulled out her ponytail and ran my fingers through her thick, dark hair. It didn’t matter what sexual position we tried or how we snuggled in my bed, we always fit. Even now, with her curled in my lap and looking at me through huge, hopeful eyes, we fit.

I brought her hand up and kissed her inner wrist over the musical note tattoo. “What made you get this?” She’d had it for years. Five, maybe? She had another strip of sheet music low on her back, as well.

She shrugged. “Figured it was a daily reminder to make time for what I love. Music’s good therapy and an escape.”

I nodded, skimming my fingers along the back of her neck where a few blue waves and a seashell were inked. This one was her first from eight or so years before. “And this tattoo?”

Her gaze dipped, her expression thoughtful and hesitant. “The ocean’s soothing. A little homage to where I come from.”

Studying her, I bit back the irritation at her lie. Or partial lie. There was, no doubt, truth to that explanation, but I knew her too well to know that was all of it. Her expression was sheer avoidance. I thought about what she’d told me of her childhood, stories of her grandfather, our shared memories...and something clicked.

Slowly, I looked at her, absurdly moved. “It represents when we met, doesn’t it? And all the summers the Seasmoke friends got together.”

Her regulated inhale and hint of pink in her cheeks was answer enough. “Yes. Meeting you guys was...monumental.”

For reasons unclear, my airway restricted and my eyes burned. “Me, too.” Taking a deep breath, I let it out. Since we were having an info dump, something had been bothering me for a while and I’d been meaning to ask her about it. “When we were talking about Cara, you said something regarding your mom’s death.” I stroked her cheek with my knuckles, needing that connection. “You don’t think her overdose was your fault, do you?”

Her gaze dropped to my chest, distant. “No. I was just a kid and her addiction started before I was born.” Her fingers idly played with the buttons on my dress shirt. “It took me a long time to realize I wasn’t to blame, though. I’d gone to school that morning, like always. She was sleeping off a hangover. I’d made her breakfast and left it on the counter, in case she woke up. If I didn’t throw something together, she never ate.” She shook her head. “Anyway, when I got home and found her—“

“Wait.” My heart stopped. “
You
found her body?”

“Yes. I thought you knew.”

Christ. I just...I couldn’t fathom such a thing. She must’ve been scared to death. “I didn’t know,” I rasped, fighting the urgent need to wrap her in the cocoon of my arms and never let go. “Jenny, I’m so sorry.”

She nodded, but the gesture seemed automatic. “Her lips were blue and her eyes open.” She shivered. “There was a needle in her arm, the tourniquet still on. She was slumped against the bathtub on the floor.”

This time, I did haul her close. With a hand on the back of her head, I pressed her face to my chest. She drew her legs up, curling into a ball. Visions of her at age eleven, before we’d even met, swam into my mind. A tiny wisp of a girl, dark hair, huge eyes, walking into a scene like that. And to have it be her mother...

“I thought she was sleeping, but when I touched her, she was cold.” Turning her head, she rested her cheek over my pounding heart. “I sat on the floor a long time, telling her about my day. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Tears pricked my nasal cavity, my eyes, and I slammed my lids shut to keep them from falling.

“After awhile, I called Grampy. He came right away, and then the police.” She sighed as if a weight had been lifted. “Social services was a nightmare, but they eventually gave him guardianship. There was no one else. Anyway, he made me go for counseling, and both Grampy and the therapist rammed it into my head that her death wasn’t my fault. As I got older, I knew they were right, but there’s still some guilt.”

Guilt I understood. All too well. And it wasn’t always rational. But Jenny’s situation with her mother and mine with Cara were entirely different. I didn’t want to discuss it anymore, and suspected she didn’t either. We’d just butt heads.

Wrecked to the bone, I held her, running my hand up and down her back to soothe us both. “Close your eyes for a bit. I’ll wake you in time for work.” She opened her mouth to argue, but I massaged her scalp until her lids drooped. “There you go. That’s better.”

Sighing, she rested her cheek to my shoulder, face buried in my neck. “Feels good.”

I kissed her hair and set the recliner in motion with my foot. The rhythmic sway had me sleepy, too, but I kept awake, enjoying holding her. My balm, my Jenny. Christ, the things she’d been through. I always knew she was strong, but damn. It made me wish, and not for the first time, that I’d known her back then, that we’d met sooner.

The wall clock ticked and wind whipped at the windows, but the sounds were soothing, tucking us in a bubble as if just for us. Her deep, even breathing was the best lullaby to my ears. So when my cell vibrated in my pocket, I jerked in surprise.

Pulling it out and hoping it didn’t wake her, I checked the screen. Cursed quietly. Hit ignore.

Just as I began rocking again, her sleepy voice mumbled against the skin of my neck. “Who’s Joe?”

My jaw ticked. “No one. A work thing.” The lie was bitter on my tongue and I had no reason to be untruthful with her. “He’s Cara’s brother, actually.”

She lifted her head. “You’re still in contact with him?”

“No. Never was. He just started calling me when I moved.”

“What does he want?”

“I don’t know.” I shook my head, pissed off our time together had been tainted. “He said he wants to talk.”

She brushed her fingertips over my jaw, and I got my breath back just with her touch. “Are you going to? Talk to him, I mean.”

He’d been pretty persistent, thus far. Calling and leaving a voicemail at least three times a week. Ignoring them was getting me nowhere. “I might. Maybe.”

As if sensing my turmoil, she did an about change. “Thanksgiving is over and Christmas is a few weeks away. Are you going to get a tree after the housewarming party?”

It never crossed my mind. “I don’t have any decorations. I could go shopping, I guess. Where would you put a tree in here?”

“In front of the patio doors, probably. Out of the way, but visible.”

Smiling, I kissed her forehead. “I’ll pick one up on Sunday, after the party.” I glanced at the clock, my gut twisting. “It’s time for you to go.” I wished to God she didn’t work nights. I’d tuck her in bed with me if that were the case. We could eat dinner together each evening. Not steal fragments here and there.

The staccato rhythm of my heart informed me where my wayward thoughts had gone before my mind caught up. What would it be like, having her live here with me? That would be moving things along rather quickly, but we’d known one another a long time. We did click on many levels.

She moaned. Kissed my mouth in a sweet, sorrowful brush. “I’ll see you Friday at the bar?”

I had to clear my throat to speak. “Yeah. Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Laters, handsome.”

Watching her go left an empty ache inside me. And that ache didn’t abate until I strolled into Winter’s Den two nights later and saw her grinning at customers.

What in the hell was this? These errant feelings swirling. The insane need to be near her all the time. Wanting her with every ragged breath between our time together. It was as if oxygen didn’t exist if she was out of reach, out of sight.

Pulling up a stool, I chatted with her grandfather’s friends and Rock until she could break free to say hello. As she leaned over the bar, I caught her scent and closed my eyes to hold it to me. Drifting forward, I went in for a kiss, but she eased back.

“Are we still a secret?”

I studied her expression, her tone, because I’d never heard that chill before. Keeping our relationship from friends and family had been my idea, a good one. We needed to get our footing, knew what we were about before letting the world in. She hadn’t disagreed, so why the arctic blast?

Nodding my thanks to Rock for the beer he’d set it down, I shifted my gaze back to her. “Come here.” Once she complied, I dragged my lips over hers. “Our friends and family aren’t here, and Rock knows about us.” She hadn’t mentioned telling him, but even if she hadn’t said a word to her bartender, the guy was astute. “Kiss me. I missed you.”

Her uneven exhale skated over my mouth. Eyes wide open, she closed the meager distance and sealed her lips to mine. I groaned, wanting to go deeper, but held myself in check. She was trembling, unsure, and it dawned on me she’d probably never kissed a guy in her bar. Before me, she’d only dated tourists, and Winter’s Den was for locals only. The public display of affection had to have taken a lot of gumption on her part. A leap.

And she was doing it with me.

Damn. I was falling for her. Or already had. Lord knew when it had happened. At age sixteen or perhaps every moment since had built up to right now. I had no clue what it meant, what to do, but I kept kissing her because hell if my world wasn’t right unless I did.

And that made my heart stutter-stop. I’d avoided this very thing, these feelings, for so long. My experience with Cara had only amplified my need to heed caution. Loss of control couldn’t happen. Thing was, I had no control whatsoever around Jenny. I knew it from the start, and yet I’d allowed this relationship to pursue. Continuing down this path would only hurt her in the end. And there would be an end. I’d been too stupid, too wrapped up in her, to acknowledge the fact.

Leveled, I pulled away, and realized cheers and applause were echoing off the walls. Every eye in the joint was on us. With my mind in a fog, I got a few back slaps from people sitting nearby, and Rock’s amused eyebrow quirk snapped me back to the issue. Jenny stared at my mouth like she had slipped underwater and couldn’t surface. And the trembling hadn’t ceased.

“Hey, darlin’,” I murmured for her ears only. “Just a kiss. We’ve done it a hundred times.” It wasn’t just a kiss. For her, it had been a statement, considering our location, but I had to say something to bring her back. She was still looking somewhere between shell-shocked and what-have-I-done.

Her gaze whipped to mine, and I swore the click of her swallow was louder than the singer on stage for open mic night. Jenny’s brows drew together as if she were in pain. Abruptly, she turned and headed to the other side of the bar and refilled orders.

Rock leaned a hip on the counter. “So, you and Jen-Jen.”

I took a sip of beer to cool my throat before answering in a mimic of his tone. “So, you and Amber.”

He slung a white towel over his shoulder and laughed. “Didn’t think I’d like you this much. Happy to be wrong.”

The rest of the night was spent nursing the same beer and watching my girl work her magic. Hard not to watch such beauty in motion. Graceful, fluent, she assembled drinks, listened to customers, laughed often, and never made a person feel like her sole attention was elsewhere. She had a way with people, that was for sure. Still, the other Jenny, the one only I got to see, never emerged. It was fascinating how she could turn off parts of herself.

By the time she took the stage for the last number, I was dying to hear her sing. She exchanged a look I couldn’t decipher with Rock and picked up a guitar. She appeared more somber than usual, and I had to wonder what made her that way. The previous times I’d seen her perform, she’d had unrivaled stage presence.

As she strummed a few chords, Rock shifted his stance, eyes on her, though he spoke to me. “Word of advice, Matt. You’re gonna want to pay close attention to this one.”

Her voice sucked my attention back to the stage. Sultry, heartbreaking. The song and her inflection were a mix of old blues and rock.

You came out of nowhere.

I rose from the ash.

Your touch was a balm.

Nothing but a mask.

Those tears born from shame,

I refused to let them fall.

And the rage they erected

Became the perfect wall.

I laid it all, laid it all to bed.

And you left me nothing more than words...unsaid.

I fisted my shaking hands, trying to swallow past the boulder in my throat. Another song. For me. About me. Gutted, I could only hope this was metaphorical. Because if I’d hurt her as badly as she implied, there was no fixing the damage.

You saved my life.

I still don’t know why.

You came and you built,

Then left on a sigh.

I was just a page, a page unread.