Winter's Path: (A Seasmoke Friends Novel) (9 page)

Drawing a slow breath, I let it out and stared at him. “It’s just paint and objects, Matt.”

Frustration marred his brow. “It’s more than that.”

“I know. And you would’ve done the same for me.” I glanced away, unable to take the intensity in his eyes. “You got this. All I did was spot your blind side. That’s what friends do.” How many times had he picked up my pieces, often not even aware he’d done so, simply because he cared? I was long overdue to return the favor.

“You were the reason I moved here, Jenny.” My gaze jerked to his, and he nodded. Disquiet lanced his expression. “When I proposed to Summer, I knew she’d say no. I did it anyway.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had my choice between Myrtle or Charlotte. I could’ve stayed in Greensboro with a pay cut, but that wouldn’t have mattered. I made more than enough to get by. But I...”

My heart was pounding so damn hard it was shifting ribs. “But what?”

He rubbed his lips with his fingers, gaze trained on the table. “I couldn’t stay there anymore. The past couple years...” He shook his head. “Summer was in Charlotte. I think I held onto the hope she’d say yes just to get me out of my rut. Save me and make the choice for me.” Slowly, his gaze lifted to mine. “What I really did was cut ties and give myself permission to let go. I’ve known the Seasmoke crew my whole life. We’ve been friends since before I could walk. But they’re not you. Rick, Dee, Ian, and Summer had this circle around them, and I didn’t feel like I fit in. In all those years, I’ve never truly been able to be myself with anyone like I can with you.”

Spots dotted my peripheral, and I may have swayed. “Matt—“

“I’m serious. When I weighed my options on which branch to choose, there was no choice. You were here and that’s where I had to be. Where I wanted to be.” Before I could say a word, or do something stupid like climb over the table and kiss the life out of him, he said the three damn words I’d been hoping he wouldn’t. “About last night—“

I cursed and tilted my face to the ceiling. Life just sucked sometimes. Or all the time. “Can we not do this?”

“We need to talk about it.”

We so didn’t. It was obvious to anyone with eyes he regretted what he’d done. Story of my life. Have a little fun, walk away. Sometimes, add a guilt trip to the party.

He sighed. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

Yep. That, too. Everyone was always damn sorry. A sentiment born from shame for being in my orbit, no doubt. Anger pounded my temples and, suddenly, I was sick of being the dirty secret. “Which part are you apologizing for, handsome? The protective caveman chest-thumping or the kiss?” I lifted my head and looked him dead on, tired of hiding my feelings. “Because both were hot as hell.”

His lips parted with a sharp inhale. And then his chest stopped moving altogether. His eyes dilated and his lids grew heavy. Then he blinked, and we were back to the stalemate.

Swallowing, he looked at the wall. “I shouldn’t have done that. Kiss you, I mean.”

Right. Because even though his body seemed to want me, his head didn’t. Damn if he didn’t just twist the knife with that statement. I nodded. What else was there to do? Wasn’t as if I didn’t know this was coming. I’d been used and thrown out so many times I’d lost tally. Yet, this was the first time I’d ever been made to feel cheap. Proof of how deep I’d let him in.

There went my appetite. Shaking, I stood. And lied for his sake. He did deserve better, after all. Couldn’t fault a guy for recognizing that. “It was just a kiss. No need to beat yourself up over it.”

His head whipped toward me so fast I got whiplash. “Jenny—“

“I get it. It was a mistake.” Damn, my chest hurt. “I’m going to get started on your bedroom.”

I turned and headed for the stairs.

A chair scraped the floor and he was behind me before I could take more than a few steps. Strong, solid arms banded around me as he pulled my back flush against his chest. “Jenny, darlin’.” Tension vibrated through him, his muscles rigid as he held me. The light woodsy scent of his cologne enveloped our small bubble and my body seemed torn between desire and comfort. His forehead dropped to my shoulder. “You mean everything to me. I screwed up. I’m sorry.”

I closed my eyes before the wetness could evolve into actual tears. I loved him and he loved me. That it was in very different ways wasn’t his fault. I gripped his forearms and squeezed. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

He let out a sigh that shifted the hair at my nape and pressed his lips to my temple. His arms clenched as if involuntary. “Promise?”

“Yes.”

At first, he didn’t move, and the scratch of his scruff against my cheek had me swallowing hard not to rub the abrasion. So warm, so safe, so yummy, my Matt. But I needed to wrap my mind around the reality he wasn’t mine. Never would be. I skimmed my fingers over his forearm, trying to sooth his guilt, but he shivered and inhaled. To draw in my scent? For control over his physical reaction?

“Come sit down and eat,” he whispered against my temple. When I didn’t respond, he nuzzled his nose with my cheek. The flutter of his lashes lowering caressed my skin. “Please, darlin’.”

A broken exhale skated past my lips and I struggled to find a way to bring us back to normal. “I’m not eating the broccoli.”

He smiled against me and I bit back a moan. “I thought I was being creative, sneaking it in with the rice.”

“Good effort, but broccoli is disgusting.”

He laughed, his chest vibrating my back and warm breath teasing my flesh. “I concede. You don’t have to eat the broccoli and you have my word I won’t try to make you.” He paused. “Will you please eat with me?”

I was hesitant to agree because that meant he’d move and I didn’t know if we’d ever be this intimate again. God, I was such a mess. “You were one of those perfect kids who always ate their vegetables, weren’t you?”

Another laugh and he smoothed his hand over my hair. Stepped away. “Afraid so.”

We ate. We cleaned up. We painted and arranged his bedroom. And when it came time to go to bed after a shower, I lay awake half the night, remembering his touch. Craving.

In the morning, determined to keep him in the friend-zone, I made a pot of coffee and acted normal. He seemed a little surprised and confused, but he’d made his choice and it wasn’t me.

He let the movers in and I directed them where to put the furniture. We ate a quick lunch of sandwiches and then tackled connecting his electronics and putting the remainder of his things away. By late afternoon, we were done and slouched on the couch, side by side.

Grabbing my hand, he kissed my fingers. “Thank you. It doesn’t even look like the same house.” His gaze kept wandering around, part awe, part satisfaction, and warmth filled my chest.

“You should have Thanksgiving here with your family instead of in Greensboro.”

He pursed his lips in thought, still holding my hand. He didn’t seem aware he was doing it. “That’s not a bad idea. Hard to believe it’s only a few weeks away. It would give me a chance to spend time with them and show off what you’ve done.” He turned his head to look at me. “You’d have to come.”

“Sure. I’m not cooking, though. And I’m not—“

“Eating the vegetables.” He laughed. “I got it.”

My smile slipped. “Yes, you do. You got this.” He drew a slow breath, studying my face, but I looked away. “I think you should have a housewarming party, too. Maybe the first week of December. You could invite the Seasmoke gang, prove to them there’s no hard feelings and that you’re good.”

“Yeah?” He hummed in his throat, glanced around as if picturing them there. “Perhaps you’re right. Waiting until July to see them again might widen the rift.” He blew out a weary sigh. “Want to stay for dinner?”

Yes, but we needed some space. “Can’t. I need to go visit Grampy and check on the bar.” I slid my hand out from under his. “Speaking of which, you’re a Myrtle resident now. You can come hang out.” Winter’s Den was geared toward locals and not tourists, giving a place for us permanent folks somewhere to be ourselves without the game face. It got sickening after awhile, always being pleasers.

He grinned. “I’ll be there. I start work the week after next, so it’ll be a nice relief at the end. Friday night?”

“Anytime, handsome.”

Matt

I
lay in bed, the quiet so loud it was an entity. Jenny and I had connected my electronics, but I wasn’t interested in what played on my flat screen on the dresser across the room. My gaze skimmed over what she’d referred to as an accent wall. Painted burgundy, it held two large black and white prints of exterior park staircases. She’d left the rest of the walls white, like we’d done in the living room. Color without being obtrusive. Hell, she’d even found a dark red bedspread to match. Brown candles for the dresser.

Rising, I padded into the adjoining bathroom and surveyed my surroundings. She’d been a little work horse. I’d seen her changes when I’d showered after she’d left, but I couldn’t stop wandering around. Partly because of the changes and mostly because her absence from my house after a week in close proximity felt like a void. I’d gotten used to having her here. A few hours, and I missed her something fierce.

She’d turned my parents’ summer vacation house into my home. I didn’t even recognize the place. Personal touches I never would’ve thought of, and all were...me. I loved them. Tasteful, but not overstated. Bold enough to be masculine, yet inviting. I roamed through the second floor, taking in the guestroom and other bathroom, then headed toward the gym.

Figuring I’d walk off some energy on the treadmill, I stepped inside and came up short. Far as I knew, she didn’t have plans for the room. Guess I was wrong. The walls were still white, but she’d hung a few pictures. One being a shot of feet running on the beach. Another of legs hiking through a forest. A third of arms reaching overhead with mountains in the backdrop. On the empty wall was a shelving unit that held folded white towels and a mini-fridge full of water bottles and sports drinks. Next to it, a sound system from my old house. My treadmill, rowing machine, and weight bench sat in the middle of the room, evenly spaced apart and all facing the small window—where she’d hung gray curtains.

I shook my head. She was an answer to an unspoken prayer, that was for sure. I had no idea how I’d ever repay her for this. Between the move, starting work at a new location, memories of this Seasmoke house and other events from a couple years ago, I’d been a bit of a wreck. I liked routine, lived by it as if a code. Jenny had managed to understand that and took action. Appeased my anxiety. No one got me like her.

And I’d almost fucked up everything. Luckily, she’d been forgiving of my mistake.

Giving up on working out—it would only keep me awake, anyway—I wandered back to my bedroom and flopped on the bed. Memories of kissing her floated to mind and I pressed my palms to my eyes. They came anyway. The soft firmness of her lips. Her heady scent of shampoo and warm woman. The exquisite needy noise she’d made in her throat. How her lithe body had fit against mine. Her taste, like red wine and dark desire....

Hell. My body tightened in response, wanting her.

I’d shut down my desire back as a teenager. I could do it again. There was no alternative. I’d made a mistake two years ago with someone like her and I couldn’t go there a second time. Especially not with Jenny. There was too much at stake, and the thought of hurting or losing her made my bones ache and my stomach bottom out.

Mentally, I went through things I needed to accomplish this week before starting work the following. The menial task worked to calm me and I finally started drifting to sleep. Until my cell rang.

I glanced at my alarm clock and then the phone next to it on the nightstand. Who’d be calling at midnight besides Jenny? Grabbing the phone, I checked the screen, not recognizing the number. I let it go to voicemail and waited. A few moments passed, and then a ding alerted a new message.

Curious, I punched in the code and put the cell to my ear.

“Hi, Matt. It’s Joe...Cara’s brother.”

The air whooshed from my lungs and every muscle in my body went rigid.

“I know it’s been a long time. Took me awhile to hunt down your info. Look, I have some things I need to discuss with you. It would mean a lot if you could call back.”

He rattled off a couple numbers where I could reach him and that was it. With shaking hands, I set the phone aside and sat up, staring unblinking at the wall.