The Harder You Fall (12 page)

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Authors: Gena Showalter

BOOK: The Harder You Fall
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A threat she'd accepted as her due after what had transpired in the cleaning closet.

“We'd like to hire You've Got It Coming to cater our first company Christmas party,” Hilary continued. A pause crackled over the line. “This Saturday.”

What! “I'm not the one in charge of bookings. And please tell me I misunderstood and your party is
not
a mere two days away.”

Around her, the girls went quiet and peered at her questioningly.

“I was given your number and told to call you specifically. I'm sorry for the last-minute notice,” Hilary said, “but we are willing to compensate you for the rush. And if you're interested, I can email or fax the details within the hour.”

Why Monica wanted to hire Jessie Kay specifically, well, she could guess, and the reason had nothing to do with You've Got It Coming's sterling reputation and starred reviews. Perhaps West had told her about his new living arrangement, and she hoped to threaten Jessie Kay again. Perhaps the brunette wanted to make another play for him. Either way, money was money, and Jessie Kay said, “If by compensating us for the rush you mean paying You've Got It Coming triple the usual fee, we're on board.” Surely Brook Lynn would agree.

Hilary accepted the price increase without hesitation, and the call ended soon after. Reeling, Jessie Kay explained the situation to the girls.

“Oh, my gosh. We've got a thousand things to do.” Brook Lynn bounced in her seat. “Man, I wish Mom and Dad were here to see what we've made of the business.”

Jessie Kay withered.
Mom isn't here to see what you've made of the business because of me.

For all the days of her life, Brook Lynn would be deprived of the woman's presence, support and guidance, and it was clear, so very clear, there'd never been a worse sister than Jessie Kay, never been a person more deserving of being severed from the root of what she loved most, the very person she'd hurt more than—

“You stop that right now, Jessie Kay.” Arms wrapped around her, drawing her in for a bear hug. “I mean it.”

Her face pressed against her sister's neck, her accelerated breathing gradually calming.

“What happened to Mom was an accident. You have to stop carrying the blame.”

Brook Lynn had been there, but she hadn't seen everything go down. She knew the worst of the details only because Jessie Kay had told her one night while drinking, desperate for her sister to understand all the reasons she should hate her. But even then, Brook Lynn had supported her, only increasing her sense of guilt.

She drew in a deep breath and straightened. Unable to meet the gazes of the other girls, she said, “All right. We have a lot of planning to do and only a short amount of time to do it. Let's get to work.”

* * *

J
ESSIE
K
AY
RAN
errands the rest of the day, gathering everything she and Brook Lynn would need for Monica's party. She paused when necessary to send West texts of different parts of her body—her feet strapped in the high heels she'd tried on but hadn't bought at Vintage Rules, where You've Got It Coming purchased all their tablecloths, then the curve of her hip with the barest peek at her red lace undies, then her lips, puckered and ready for a kiss. The photos were a welcome distraction from her troubles.

So was West. All three times, he responded with texts begging for more. Texts she ignored. Well, pretended to ignore. She thought of nothing else, and couldn't stop smiling.

How could she have known teasing him would be so much fun—for her?

She texted Daniel.

Hate to do it but I'm canceling dinner & practice. 1) new catering job 2) West is now my soccer coach so practice has been upped to 6. 3) Practice will take place at my house & there's no room for spectators

Daniel:
No prob. Got word your “candy store” is closed so I was thinking about canceling on you anyway

Like he really wanted her treats. As their friendship had grown, they'd developed a brother-sister vibe. Well, stepbrother and stepsister.

Her phone vibrated. Daniel again.

Hey, did I ever tell you West came to my house soon after we broke things off?

Her:
WHAT! He did? Why? TELL ME!

Daniel:
Oh, oh, oh. What's this? Is someone a little too curious?

Her:
I'm currently at Strawberries & More. If you don't start spilling, I'll buy yeast infection cream & tell everyone it's for you but you're too embarrassed to buy it for yourself.

Daniel:
You play too rough. And so does he. He told me he'd kill me if I hurt you again & no one would ever find my savaged body

But...but...that had happened back when she and West were on unfriendly terms, always snipping and snapping at each other.

He'd been looking out for her, even then?

Daniel:
The guy can be nice one minute & cold-blooded the next. If you're into him, be careful

Jessie Kay stuffed her phone in her coat pocket and snatched a cart to push down the aisles of the grocery store—she wasn't really at Strawberries & More but some health food store in the city. Brook Lynn had made another of her infamous lists, this one detailing all the items needed for the health-conscious hors d'oeuvres Monica insisted on serving. Some things Jessie Kay had never heard of. Oca? Romanesco? Tiger nut?

Not even gonna look that last one up.

Despite her unfamiliarity with the ingredients, she'd volunteered to do the shopping. There had been a time not so long ago when Brook Lynn wouldn't—shouldn't—have trusted her with such an important task, but those days were behind them, and it thrilled her. Plus, she'd come up with a way to shake up West's dinner plans, at the same time replacing his memory of floor-eating. And she couldn't wait to begin.

CHAPTER NINE

W
EST
READ
OVER
his schedule, frowned, then read over it again. How was this possible? He hadn't done half the things he'd planned to do. Not that anything had been pressing. He'd gotten off course sometime during lunch and never recovered. Never even realized it until now. He'd been too busy watching the clock.

Speaking of, he glanced at the clock on his office wall. 5:16 p.m. Forty-four minutes until Jessie Kay's soccer lesson was set to begin. He'd expected to feel nothing but dread, but right now he hummed with sizzling anticipation.

“What's this I hear about Jessie Kay closing a candy store?” Beck asked.

West forced his focus on his friend, who plopped into the chair across from his desk. “I heard the same thing.” Several guys had visited the office to ask him if he'd heard the bad news. Several women had visited, too, demanding to know if he was engaged to Jessie Kay.

His reply? “We're in talks.” Let them stew on
that
.

He'd added, “Since Daniel is gay, he'd make a great bridesmaid, don't you think.”

Jase, who'd driven Brook Lynn to her lunch with the girls, perched in the chair next to Beck. “By the way, you were staring at the clock as if you wanted to hump it.”

“It's a sexy clock. A twelve on a scale of ten.”

“Please. That clock is a hard five, and you know it,” Beck said.

“I was going to say soft six,” Jase said.

“That's because you spent a decade behind bars. You're desperate.”

Jase barked out a laugh.

How could the two joke so easily about Jase's incarceration?

West scrubbed a hand down his face. “Today has been...different.” He and Jessie Kay had flirted nonstop via text, ensuring he maintained a low-level arousal even while going about his business. He'd loved every second, even as he'd
hated
every second.

His curiosity about her was now off the charts. What had shaped her into the woman she was? What had driven her to parties and men she'd known were bad for her? What had changed her?

Bottom line. The girl had flat-out enchanted him.

He did not use such a puss word like
enchanted
lightly.

If they continued at this pace, they'd end up in bed sooner rather than later. And yeah,
hell yeah
, he wanted her there. He wanted her there more than he'd ever wanted anything. He wanted her naked, wet and willing. But the obstacles in their way hadn't miraculously vanished. His reasons for avoiding an entanglement with her hadn't changed.

In fact, he now had another reason to add to the list. He would hurt her, and he would rather die than hurt her.

So why hadn't he stopped flirting with her?

Observe. Understand. Act.

He couldn't understand and didn't want to act.

“Wait. That's all we get?” Beck spread his arms, all
dude, you mean Santa isn't real?
“Today was different?”

“That's right—that's all you get.” His phone buzzed. Thanks to Jessie Kay's illicit photos, the sound now caused a Pavlovian response, his blood heating in an instant.

Jessie Kay:
Are you done w/ work? Can you come home now? I've got something to show you...
J
J
J

“I've got to go.” He jumped to his feet. As his friends sputtered a response, he swiped up his briefcase and coat and strode out the door.

He drove so fast he set speed records. He also
broke
speed limits.

Sheriff Lintz pulled him over.

The lawman braced his arms in West's open window, the brim of his Stetson pushed back, revealing a kind but weathered face. “What's got you in such an all-fired hurry, son?”

“Just eager to get home.” The truth, but not the whole truth. No need to start more rumors.

“Heard you'd moved in with our Jessie Kay.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dark eyes crinkled at the corners as Sheriff Lintz smiled. “Well, then, I can't rightly blame you for speeding, she's a mighty fine woman, but do me a favor and set your cruise to fifty. That way I won't have to give you a ticket and Jessie Kay won't show up at the courthouse pretending to be a lawyer, raving about the injustice on our roadways—again.”

West tried not to smile. “Did she really?”

“Only every time one of her friends got a ticket.” Sheriff Lintz straightened and tapped the hood of the car. “Go on now. Get home to your girl.”

Your girl.

The words felt so...right.

West obeyed the limits the rest of the way home, but flew up the porch steps as if his feet were on fire. Unfortunately, the front door was locked, and he had yet to get a key. No matter. With a couple of paper clips he removed from the documents in his briefcase, he let himself inside, warm air greeting him. He'd paid an obscene amount of money for an electrician from the city to drive out here and fix the heater in the middle of the night, while Jessie Kay had slept peacefully.

“Jessie Kay?”

“In the kitchen,” she called.

He schooled his features to reveal only mild curiosity as he strode through the living room. In the kitchen...

He stopped short. She kneeled on a blanket that had been spread across the floor, and she was smiling up at him, bowls of food surrounding her.

“Surprise! We're having a picnic. Oh, and I made this just for you. A gift to celebrate our new friendship.” She held out a single cupcake with checkered black-and-white frosting. An edible soccer ball. “It's cookies and cream, soon to be your new favorite thing in the world.”

She looked so eager, so uncertain, but even with a blanket, the floor was the floor and he shook his head. “I'm sorry, Jessie Kay, but I can't—”

“Don't say no,” she rushed out. “We're roommates now. We need to take time to get to know each other.”

“We can take time at the table. Tomorrow.” No way he'd eat tonight's offering.

Pouting, she set the cupcake on a plate. “Why put it off? Tomorrow you'll probably do something dumb—it's time to face facts, you're a guy so it's inevitable that you'll screw up—and then I'll refuse to speak to you ever again.”

“That's a risk I'm willing to take.” It wasn't. It so wasn't.

“Are you sure?” She reached up to trace her fingers over the collar of her shirt. A new one with buttons—the top three were unfastened, drawing his gaze to the most succulent cleavage he'd ever seen. Cleavage he hadn't been able to get out of his mind all day. “I'm amusing and charming and you'd miss me terribly.”

“This is true.”

“So, save us from an argument and sit down. Talk with me,
eat
with me, and I'll give you a reward.”

Every muscle in his body clenched. “What kind of reward?”

“You tell me. What do you crave?”

You.
To finish what they'd started at the wedding. Finally. Blessedly. His body
hungered
for hers.

Too many obstacles...

There was only one thing he wanted as much as he wanted this woman in his bed.

“Your secrets,” he said.

She frowned. “I have no secrets worth sharing.”

“You do. I want to know everything about you.”

The color drained from her cheeks. “But...we've only just agreed to be friends.”

“And what better way to cement our friendship?”

“I can think of several. But if it's secrets you want—”

“It is.”

“—why don't I tell you about the time a goat chased me down Main Street?”

“That's not a secret. I've heard the goat story from at least six people in town. Tell me the bad stuff. The things no one else knows.”

“But...”

“Consider this a trust exercise. You'll fall, and I'll catch. Or I can go to my room and starve...” He took a step back.

“Wait.” Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “Will you be sharing
your
secrets?”

Would he? “If you insist.”

“I do.”

He nodded reluctantly. “Then so be it.”

“But I get to eat the cupcake and—”


My
cupcake.” He sat on the blanket before he could talk himself out of it, clasping the cupcake in a kung fu grip. “My gift.”

Gift.
The word echoed through his mind. It
was
a gift. A gift she'd made just for him. In all the years of his life, he'd received only two others. A bike from one of the better foster families—not that he was allowed to keep it when he moved—and a pair of shoes from Jase and Beck when his old ones fell apart, his feet far too big for them.

“Thank you,” he grumbled. He had no idea how to moderate his voice as different emotions flooded him...drowned him.

“You're welcome. Now. Let's get started, shall we?” She picked up a plate and began to stack different ingredients in the center. “Guess who's finally getting his sandwich. Hint: he thinks I'm the most beautiful woman in the world.”

No reason to deny it. “He does.” West loosened his tie, kicked off his shoes and tried to act nonchalant as sweat broke out on the back of his neck. “Why a picnic?” As if he couldn't guess.

This morning, he'd told her how he'd once been forced to eat off the floor. This was her way of easing the sting of the memory. A sweet gesture, but not one he really appreciated.

“Here's a better question. Why
not
a picnic?” She handed him the plate of food and put together much smaller portions for herself. “We're not just roommates, we're friends. You said so. I picnic with my friends.”

“Have you picnicked with Daniel?” he couldn't help but ask.

“No. Why?” She smirked at him. “Would you like to call and invite him?”

“If he invades my picnic, I'll gut him and feast on his remains.”

She snorted. “That's not disturbing
at all
.”

West got as comfortable as he could, leaning against the wall, stretching out his long legs. His stomach twisted into so many knots he could only pick at the double-stacked club as he asked, “Did you have picnics with your family when you were young?”

Her smile was morose. “Every summer my dad would take us camping. We'd spend a week at the lake and have a picnic every night.”

West had clearly delved into sensitive territory already—one of her secrets? “Did you have fun?”

“While he was alive, yes.”

“You still went camping after he died?”

Now chalk white, she toyed with a piece of bacon. “My mom thought it would be good for us. A way to remember him, to feel close to him.”

“You didn't feel close to him?” He popped a bite of ham into his mouth before he realized what he'd done. The flavor...wasn't bad.

Fidgeting, she said, “Enough about me. Tell me one of
your
secrets.”

“What would you like to know?” He braced, preparing for the worst.

She met his gaze straight on. “How did you feel when Jase killed the man who'd hurt Tessa?”

Not the worst, but close. How would she react to the truth? “I was glad—because I helped him deliver the beating. In fact, I threw the first punch.”

She didn't recoil, as part of him expected. She merely tilted her head, confused. “You were there? But... Brook Lynn never mentioned... I don't understand...”

“Why wasn't I sentenced?” The muscles in his jaw ached from being clenched so tightly. “Jase took full responsibility and asked me to stay quiet.” He made no mention of Beck. His friend's secrets were his own to share—or not. “I did, and I've had to live with guilt every day since.”

She stared at him for a long while. Disappointed in him? Disgusted? Angered on Jase's behalf? “Guilt is like flypaper, isn't it. As the years go by, everything from shame to dread sticks to it.”

He nodded, couldn't yet speak.

“But why do you feel guilty? You gave your friend what he wanted.”

“What we want isn't always what we need.”

“Yeah. That's true,” she replied softly. “He needed you.”

No placations?
You were only a kid...

“Sometimes I wonder,” he said in a voice just as soft, “if I stayed quiet because Jase asked...or because I was too afraid to come forward.” The admission burned his throat, his mouth—his soul.

She reached out and patted his hand. “Does it really matter? You're not the boy you used to be, and you'd do things differently now. You've grown and learned, and like my momma used to say, you shouldn't carry your mistakes, you should set them down and use them as stepping stones to a better future.”

The strangest thing happened. The burn of guilt faded. Not a lot, but enough to notice. He
was
a different man. “I would have liked your momma.”

“She was a good woman. I'm trying to heed her advice myself.”

Intrigue. Curiosity. “Tell me your biggest secret, Jessie Kay. The one that haunts you. The one I can see swimming in your eyes.”

She shifted, visibly nervous. “I'll tell you tomorrow.”

“So I'm the only brave one at this picnic? Got it.”

“Hey!” Glaring daggers, she pointed her fork at him. “I'm brave, too.”

“Prove it.”

A minute passed in silence, then another.

“I'm waiting,” he said. “You promised, after all.”

“Fine. I always sometimes make good on my promises.” She lifted her chin. “But are you sure you want to know?”

“Positive.”

“Then get comfortable. This will take a while.”

He motioned for her to continue.

She opened her mouth, snapped it closed.

“Jessie Kay—”

“Fine.” She sighed. “The summer my momma died was such a rainy one, the river flooded. She told us not to do more than dip our feet in, but I ignored her. I wanted to swim, and I thought she worried for nothing. Everything looked calm, but it wasn't long before the current swept me away. I screamed for help, and she dove in after me. After a big-time struggle, she got me back to shore, but as she tried to crawl up behind me, the current pulled her away. She called my name, screamed it over and over, but I couldn't reach her. And then she was gone, swept under and whisked away.”

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