Why Now? (13 page)

My plans for the immediate future are as follows: avoid Jake Whitmore, avoid Heath Mackey, and book plane ticket to a small island off the coast of England.

Clearly, I’m a gigantic wuss. A gigantic wuss who would rather avoid problems than face them head on. The nice thing about avoiding problems is you can convince yourself that everything is going to work out fine and that no one, particularly yourself, is going to end up heartbroken and alone.

My internal delusions are erased by the sounds of voices outside. It’s muffled, but it could be Reilly, Heath, and Jake. Springing up from my bed I move to stand next to my door and focus on listening.

Is that a key?

It sounds like a key and it sounds close, but it could be Jessica, our neighbor. She’s a nurse and has weird hours. Maybe she’s having a get together for all her coworkers who also work weird hours. That sounds plausible.

The outside door to our apartment opens. Shit, not Jessica.

“She doesn’t have to talk to you if she doesn’t want to,” Heath says as he walks in.

He said she, am I the she he’s talking about?

“I’m not going to force her to talk to me,” Jake replies.

Oh God. Jake is there too.

“Knowing Kacey, you might have to,” Reilly warns.

It takes everything I have not to shout back a sarcastic remark.

“Her light is off,” Heath says. “Do you think she’s asleep?”

That is a fantastic idea Heath; I’ll pretend to be asleep. There’s no way they’ll know I’m awake.

“She’s not asleep,” Reilly replies. “Bet you money she’s standing on the other side of the door listening to us right now.”

There’s a loud knock on my door causing me to take a step back before Reilly says, “We know you’re in there so come out already.”

“You suck,” I grumble and flip on my light.

Shivering, I pull an old plaid shirt out from my closet and tug it on before opening my door.

Since I’m not an attention seeker, having everyone’s eyes on me as I walk into the living room isn’t fun. Avoiding all of their gazes, I move to the sofa and sit, curling my legs up under me and pull the sides of the flannel shut.

“Nice shirt,” Jake teases and I look up at him.

“It was Reilly’s,” I reply defensively.

He grins, “It was mine first.”

My jaw drops and I glance over at Reilly who is studiously studying her feet. That is something I didn’t know. Crap. Now Heath will think I purposefully wore Jake’s shirt to send some sort of message.

The only thing I meant by wearing it was that I was cold. That and this shirt is soft, comfortable, and is like a wearable security blanket.

My eyes move to Heath. His jaw is clenched.

Double crap.

If I take the shirt off now, he’ll think I’m only doing it because he knows the shirt was Jake’s. And if I took it off I’d be cold, which would suck.

Be brave woman.

Glaring at Jake I blurt, “Why did you kiss me and leave?”

He surprises me by pulling the coffee table away from the sofa and coming to crouch in front of me.

Heath moves too, coming to stand at the end of the sofa, he rests his hand on my shoulder. If that is not a possessive move, I don’t know what is.

My assumption that he would call off the wedding loses some steam. Looking up at him, I can see his eyes are pinned to Jake.

Crap. Jake is crouched in front of me.

My eyes move right back to him.

Once our eyes lock, he says, “I’m not going to apologize for kissing you, Killer.”

Definite body tingle at his words.

“I’m also not going to apologize for being attracted to you.”

He’s attracted to me? Jake Whitmore just said out loud, in front of witnesses, that he’s attracted to me.

Oh, my God.

Not that I care, I remind myself, my back going straighter. Jake Whitmore had twenty-odd years to say those words.

Why the hell is he doing it now?

“Why now?” I snap. He leans back as if my words were a slap across his face.

Not giving him a chance to answer, I go on, “I had a thing for you for years, Jake,” my voice rises, “years.”

He stands and I follow him, uncurling myself from the sofa and shrugging off Heath’s hand.

“And you knew. You can’t tell me you didn’t. Everyone did. People made fun of me for it Jake. Did you know that?”

I don’t let him answer as I watch his face get tight. “Now that someone you know likes me,” I lift my hand to point to my engagement ring, “and put a ring on it, you’re going to kiss me? After years of waiting for you to like me back, you decide that now is the time to do it?”

My anger is morphing from rage to embarrassment. Tears sting my eyes and my nose starts to burn, but I couldn’t stop now even if I wanted to. “How could you, Jake? Don’t you see how messed up it is after all this time? Are you doing this to see if I’ll choose you over Heath? Am I some challenge to you now that I want someone else?”

Heath comes to stand behind me, his chest a wall of support at my back, his hands gripping my waist.

“Ace, calm down,” he whispers into my ear and I sag back against him.

“I would never hurt you,” Jake says, his hands in fists at his sides and his mouth tight.

“Can’t you see you hurt me by never making me let you go,” I whisper.

It hits him like another slap across the face, the force of it making him turn his head to the side. “How could I stop you if I wasn’t here, Kacey?”

Okay, he does have a point.

“By not kissing her,” Heath growls, and I nod in agreement because that made total sense.

Jake directs his attention to Heath. “You know. Out of everyone in this room, I’ve talked to you about the girl I kissed that night and how much I wished I could find her. Don’t act like you weren’t as surprised as I was when I found out it could have been Kacey.”

“What does that even mean?” I cry. “How can a kiss with a stranger mean that much to you when you never bothered to notice me any other time? I don’t get it.”

His face hardens. “Oh, I noticed you, believe me, I’ve noticed you. What did you want me to do, Killer? I live on a fucking rig. Was I supposed to hook up with you? The girl I grew up with, the best friend of my sister’s, to just leave you here? I can be a dick but I’m not that much of a dick.”

He noticed me. When? How? That can’t be.

“What about when you still lived here?” I argue.

His eyes widen and his hands open, his fingers flexing. “You were just a little kid then. I didn’t think of you that way until I saw you at Grams funeral. You’re sexy as fuck now.”

Heath tightens his grip while Jake laughs and keeps talking. “When I still lived here you were in middle school, Kacey. Give me a break for not seeing you as a woman until you were one.”

“Fine,” I grumble. “But none of what you said changes the fact that you still live on a rig. Why did you kiss me tonight if you’re only going to leave again?”

It’s now Reilly that cuts in, moving to stand between us. “Why don’t we all sit down? I can make everyone tea.”

We all look at her and I ask, “Tea?”

Between the two of us, I’m the tea drinker. I have a feeling the earth will be absorbed by the sun before I ever catch Jake or Heath having a cup of tea.

“Isn’t tea supposed to be calming or something?” She asks before looking at all of us. “I figured something calming would be helpful at the moment.”

Shaking my head I reply, “I don’t think it’s instantaneous or anything.”

Either way, the absurdity of her serving us tea has muted my anger. Turning, Heath releases his hold on me and I take his hand and lead him to the sofa.

We sit together with me tucked into his side. If there were a better non-verbal way of letting Jake know where I stood, I couldn’t think of it.

His eyes stay on me, though. If it bothers him that I’m sitting so close to Heath his body language does nothing to show it.

“I kissed you because I had to know. I also kissed you because I’ve wanted to for a long time, even if you weren’t my mystery girl. I kissed you because I know I’ll never deserve all you have to offer, and I wanted to experience it at least once.”

“Fuck,” Heath groans next to me, but my attention is wholly on Jake as I try to absorb what he just said.

“Thing is, now that I’ve tasted you . . .”

I gulp, my mouth suddenly dry.

“I’m not ready to give up without a fight.” He looks up at Heath, “So may the best man win.”

May the best man win? Did I really just fucking say that? Great, way to make Kacey think this is a competition. What are you going to do if you win, Jake? A touchdown dance?

Figuring that I’m going to be unwelcomed at Heath’s place for the rest of my stay, I head back to Lola’s. Sydney is probably still up, and if I’m lucky, she’ll let me crash on her couch.

The walk gives me plenty of time to replay the epic levels of stupid things I said back there. The look on Kacey’s face when she yelled at me, slayed me.

All I wanted to do was tug her into my arms to comfort her. She already had Mackey’s arms around her, though, and she would not have appreciated a tug-of-war.

She should have been in my arms, I’m certain of that. She was right, though, what the hell can I offer her? Nothing. If I quit my job on the rig, I’ll have no income and won’t be able to cover the mortgage on the house as long as it’s vacant.

So I’m supposed to convince her she should be with me and then ditch her? Shit. What have I gotten myself into?

Sydney is behind the counter wiping it down as I walk in. “Oh, look what the cat dragged in.”

She’s not wrong. If I looked like hell the first time she saw me tonight, I have no doubt I look worse now. When we went back to Reilly’s I wasn’t expecting to argue why I never made a play for Kacey.

Glancing around the place, I’m relieved to see that apart from the cook staff the place is empty. “Can I ask a favor?”

Sydney smirks and leans forward to rest her elbow on the counter. “Lay it on me.”

“If your couch is free I’d love to crash on it.”

She tilts her head to the side. “I thought you were staying with Heath.”

“Long story,” I reply.

She straightens; leaving the cloth she was using on the counter she stretches her arms wide. “And I’ve got nothing but time.”

Fucking Sydney Fairlane. The women in the town are going to be the death of me.

I gave her the cliff notes. “I kissed Kacey Albright tonight and Mackey wasn’t thrilled about it.”

“I already heard that part,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “And you seemed cool with each other when you left. Give me something juicy.”

“When we left he thought that kiss was the end of it and I was done with her.”

Her brows lift. “And, you’re not done with her.”

Shaking my head, I slide onto the stool in front of her. “I’m just getting started.”

Laughing, she nods. “I’ll bet that pissed Mac off.”

“Mac?” I ask.

She shrugs, “Mackey, Heath, whatever. That had to have pissed him off.”

“It did. I declared war like she’s a country we both want to conquer. I’m a fucking jackass.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Jake.”

Impossible.

I smile and her face softens. “Want a cup of coffee?”

“Got anything stronger?” I reply.

“One Irish Coffee coming up,” she replies.

When she comes back, she surprises me by bringing two mugs with her. The one with the skull and cross bones she passes to me. She keeps the one with a girl reading on it for herself.

“It’s decaf,” she says, taking a sip from her mug.

“You drinking with me?” I ask, surprised.

Smiling she nods. “It’s closing time and I needed one.”

With that, she sets her mug on the counter and lifts the divider that separates it from the booth section of the diner. With practiced ease, she leans across one booth and switches off the light that illuminates the
open
sign before turning to the door and locking it.

Sydney moves like a dancer, every step she takes confident and assured. It strikes me that as much as I like Sydney, if I had to stand her next to Kacey, I’d pick Kacey every time.

This surprises me for some reason. Sydney and I would fit. We both have tattoos, we both move with confidence. Mine from all of the years I played football, hers from . . . if I had to guess, her travels.

Kacey is shy and sweet. She doesn’t disappear when she walks but she doesn’t have swagger like Sydney does. She’s quietly graceful and, for as long as I can remember, always has been.

Not many people ever get to see the passion she keeps locked inside. I saw it when she stood up to those boys to rescue that dog and then again tonight when my lips were on hers.

Needing to get my mind off Kacey, I ask, “Have you decided what you’re going to do about the diner?”

She shakes her head. “I’m not sure I can live in this town.”

Not expecting that, I laugh, “What, we stink?”

She settles herself on the stool next to me and punches my arm. “Like you can talk. It’s not like you live here.”

Sobering, I reach for my drink and take a gulp. My eyes bug as I force it down.