The Return Page 8

  “Then let’s just work on that. The rest of it... it’s too messy. So let’s just work on being friends.” The words felt right to her. Safe. Secure in a way she’d been missing since Jacob’s return.

  He didn’t look happy, but he also didn’t look like he was aching or pained. Just slightly poignant as he murmured, “Friends are better than nothing at all.” Then he added with a quirk of his mouth, “So does this mean you’ll answer my calls?”

  A WEEK LATER, RIA WAS working on an arrangement in the back room in the shop while Skye was sitting on the other worktable, swinging her legs and watching.

  “I still can’t believe you’re friends now,” Skye said, her blue eyes wide and round and her mouth quivering with amusement.

  “What can’t you believe? We talked some things out. We got some closure from before. And now we’re both trying. Adults can usually work things out if they try.”

  “Maybe.” Skye sounded rather dubious. “But when two people are as hot for each other as you two obviously are, friendship is kind of hard to balance.”

  “We’re not that hot for each other.” Ria carefully avoided her friend’s eyes as she spoke that bald-faced lie.

  “Oh please. Last night when we were all hanging out at Madeline’s, the sexual tension between the two of you was off the charts. I was embarrassed to just be around you.”

  Ria rolled her eyes, but she didn’t bother to argue.

  It would have been a losing argument.

  For the past week, she and Jacob had talked a lot. They’d gotten together a few times. She’d gone over to help him work on the house more than once. And last night she’d invited him to a casual get-together at Madeline’s. Things were going really well. They were remembering what had drawn them together all those years ago.

  But the one thing she hadn’t counted on was the sheer force of attraction that kept rising up when she was around him, stronger than ever now that the emotional land mines had been mostly dealt with.

  She didn’t want to just hang out with Jacob. She wanted to wrap herself around his big body and never let him go.

  It was very inconvenient when she was convinced it was safer to just be friends.

  “But if you guys want to pretend it’s not there,” Skye said, obviously reading the conflict on Ria’s face, “then you just go ahead and do it. Sometimes pretend is safer. And sometimes if we act like we feel a certain way, we will eventually learn to feel it.”

  Ria turned toward her friend at that. “You really think that’s true?”

  “Sure.” Skye shrugged dramatically. “It doesn’t always work, but it sometimes does. When I don’t feel confident, I’ll act confident until I start to feel that way. When I feel jealous about something, I’ll act like I’m not jealous until the jealousy goes away. So sometimes it works.”

  “So if I just act like I’m not on the verge of clawing off Jacob’s clothes at any moment of the day, maybe I’ll start feeling that way?”

  Skye giggled. “I guess it’s worth a try.” She paused before she added, “But don’t blame me if it doesn’t work. I’ve never used this strategy for that kind of feeling before.”

  “What kind of feeling?”

  The new voice came from the doorway and surprised them so much that they both jumped.

  Ria relaxed when she saw it was Fitz, wearing his normal beat-up army jacket and looking like he just rolled out of bed. “Nothing,” she said with a smile. “Thanks for stopping by.”

  “Everything okay here?” he asked, looking between her and Skye. “You look like I caught you two getting in trouble.”

  “We’re not in trouble,” she assured him. “Just talking about personal issues.”

  “I can come back later if you want to continue your private talk.” He was giving her a half smile beneath his beard that was really quite appealing.

  “No need. We can continue our talk any time. I’m glad you’re here.”

  “It’s nice that someone thinks that, since every time your sister sees me, I swear she’s on the verge of shoving me out the door.”

  Ria couldn’t help but laugh. “She doesn’t really mean it.”

  “Oh yes, she does. But that’s okay. I’m used to not being to everyone’s taste.”

  “Well, you’re to my taste, and I always appreciate your help. Here are the arrangements I need delivered today.”

  RIA WAS IN A GOOD MOOD all day and even more so as she headed over to the Worth house that evening since she’d promised Jacob she’d come back over to help him finish painting the basement with waterproof paint after he’d worked on stopping all the leaks.

  She wore a pair of old shorts and an oversized T-shirt since she didn’t want to get her nice clothes messed up. She’d pulled her hair into two braids and taken out her contacts and put on her glasses because the fumes irritated her eyes.

  She wasn’t at her most attractive as she parked and walked to the front door. In fact, she didn’t look good at all.

  And it was just as well. She was going to pretend she wasn’t attracted to Jacob until the inconvenient lust just went away.

  Martha let her in and told her Jacob was already working in the basement, so Ria headed downstairs.

  “Hey there,” she called as she descended, figuring it was best to give warning after the debacle that had occurred when she’d surprised him in the basement a couple of weeks ago. “I’m here.”

  “Come on down!” Jacob was dressed in his work trousers and a white T-shirt with spatters of paint all over it. He was bent over, dipping his roller in a paint tray, so the first thing she saw was his ass.

  His very fine, very firm, very tight ass. Molded by the thin fabric of his trousers.

  Ria experienced an immediate and ridiculously intense wave of lust as she gaped at him.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, straightening up and looking at her behind him, paint dripping from his roller.

  “Yes. Of course.” She remembered her plan. Fake it. Keep faking it. Until one day she would finally make it. “I’m here to work.”

  “Thanks for coming. Grab a roller. I’d love to get this finished today if we can. It’s nice of you to help.” He smiled at her endearingly.

  Her heart did a silly gallop, but she ignored it.

  They worked for about an hour or two, chatting in a friendly, casual manner and occasionally falling into companionable silence. The work helped. She could focus on her painting. She didn’t have to keep noticing the breadth of Jacob’s shoulders. The thickness of his thighs. The size of his hands. The masculine line of his jaw. The dark bristles on his jaw and neck.

  She didn’t have to notice any of that. In fact, she wasn’t noticing it at all.

  She was focusing so intently on not noticing things about Jacob she shouldn’t notice that she was surprised when she turned to scan the basement and realized they were almost done with the walls. There was only one corner left unpainted. Jacob wanted to paint the floor too, but he had to wait until he got rid of some of the junk.

  “We’re doing good,” she said, coming over to the unfinished corner so she could help him with it.

  “Yep.” He wiped some perspiration from his face with his forearm, ending up with a small smear of paint on his temple.

  It did nothing to dampen her attraction. She wanted him even more now that he looked all hot and sweaty and carnal.

  It was ridiculous. She wasn’t used to feeling this way. Her body was usually quite nicely under control. And now it kept urging her to rub up against Jacob and feel all his firm muscles and hard lines and hot flesh.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, peering at her with both curiosity and concern.

  She gave him the bright smile that helped her pretend she wasn’t currently overwhelmed with the need to touch him. “Nothing. Just pleased with our progress.”

  He didn’t appear to believe her, but he didn’t argue. They worked in silence for fifteen more minutes until the last of the bare walls were painted.


  Then they admired their handiwork. It was never going to be an attractive basement, but the gray paint helped a lot to unify the uneven walls and cover the water stains.

  Ria bent over to put down her roller and grabbed a rag to wipe her hands with. When she straightened up, Jacob was standing right beside her. Less than two inches away.

  She really didn’t need that. “What?” she demanded.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” he said, a gruff authority to his tone that really turned her on.

  “Nothing’s going on.”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “Why would I be mad at you?”

  “I don’t know. I thought we were doing good. But today it’s like you’re mad or something and pretending not to be. How many of those fake smiles are you going to give me until you just tell me what’s wrong?”

  She gaped at him. “You think I’m mad?”

  “I don’t know. If you’re not mad, why are you faking it?” He looked grumpy, but not in a mean way. In a gruff, confused way.

  “I’m not faking it.”

  “Yes, you are. You think I can’t see it? Tell me what the hell is wrong so I can fix it.”

  She was getting annoyed now too. There was no reason for him to be quite so bossy. “I don’t have to do everything you say. If I want to fake it, then I can.”

  “But what are you faking? Have I done something? Do you not like me anymore?” For just a moment he sounded genuinely anxious.

  It was the anxiety that quelled her instinctive stubbornness. “No. Of course not. I mean, of course I like you.” She scowled at him. “If you want to know the truth, I’m feeling things I shouldn’t feel, so I’m trying to convince myself not to. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  His expression changed. He searched her face and must have seen something. His hazel eyes heated up in an instant. “What are you feeling?” he asked. Soft and gravelly and sensual.

  “It doesn’t matter.” She had to clench her hands at her sides so as not to touch him.

  “It matters to me.”

  “Lust,” she burst out, shocking herself with the admission. “I’m feeling lust. Happy now?”

  Before she knew what was happening, he’d backed her up against one of the walls. It was a wall they’d painted when they first started, so it was mostly dry.

  But not quite.

  It didn’t matter. She backed all the way against it, holding her body still in an attempt to deny the throbbing force of need that was crashing over her.

  “Yes,” Jacob murmured. “I’m very happy now.”

  “Don’t get too happy. I just said I was trying to fight it.”

  “Why fight it?”

  “Because it’s... it’s messy.”

  He gave his head a little shake, the fire in his eyes only getting hotter. “It’s already messy. We’re messy. How much messier do you think it’s going to get?”

  She stared at him for a long moment until the answer made itself clear to her. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” He hadn’t touched her yet, and he wouldn’t until she made it clear it was allowed.

  “Okay,” she said again, grabbing his face with both hands. “Then let’s get messy.”

  With a sound almost like a growl, he kissed her hard, hungry, fierce. Exactly as she needed. Soon they were rocking together, and she was wrapping her arms and legs around him. She’d wanted him for so long now that she was aroused almost from the very beginning, so it didn’t take long for her body to respond to the embrace.

  One of his hands dipped under the waistband of her shorts and explored until he’d discovered how ready she was for him.

  “Oh sweetheart,” he breathed against her neck. “You’re so hot and wet.”

  “Yeah. Yeah. Please. I need this bad.” She fumbled with the button at the top of her shorts, trying to urgently get them off.

  With a little awkward maneuvering, they got enough of their clothes off, and he was about to get her into position against the wall when she gasped, “Wait!”

  He froze.

  “We can’t do this again without a condom.”

  He let out his held breath in a gust. “Right. Of course not. Good thinking.”

  “I’ve got one in my purse.” She nodded toward the purse she’d left on the bottom step of the stairs.

  He walked over—a little stiffly because he was really turned on—and brought her the purse. She found the condom packet and handed it to him so he could open it and roll it on. Then they were ready for real.

  He kissed her again. Then bent his knees, levered his hips, and lifted her against the wall, holding her there as he thrusted. It was tight and hard and urgent and clumsy, and she was surrounded by the smell of sex and paint.

  And she couldn’t remember anything feeling better. Deeper. More real.

  Jacob took her hard, grunting as his speed accelerated. The tension in her body tightened so hard she was practically sobbing when she finally came all around him.

  He came right after her, gasping against her neck, his body still pressing her against the hard wall.

  She clung to him desperately. He was big and strong and warm and Jacob, and she never wanted anyone else in her arms or between her legs.

  When he finally let her slide back down to the floor, her knees were shaky. She had to hold on to him to keep her balance.

  They panted and gazed at each other until Ria finally smiled.

  Jacob’s whole body softened, and he pulled her into a soft hug. “Sweetheart,” he whispered against her ear.

  She waited, but he didn’t say anything else.

  When she had the strength to pull away from him, she said, “Well, as far as being friends is concerned, that was a bit of a flop.”

  He chuckled. “Didn’t feel like a flop to me. Although...”

  She had no idea what he was about to say.

  Then he said, “We’re going to have to repaint this part of the wall.”

  Eight

  AFTER THEY’D REPAINTED the wall and cleaned up as much as possible, Jacob walked Ria to her car.

  He was warm and sated and quiet and weirdly fluttery. Excited. Like he was on the cusp of expectation, waiting breathlessly to fall over into a chasm full of everything he’d ever wanted.

  Ria was quiet too, keeping her eyes down with a reserve that was almost shy, even though she’d never been a shy person.

  When they reached her driver’s side door, they both stood and looked at each other for a long moment.

  “Well,” she said at last.

  “Well.” Unable to resist her rosy and slightly swollen lips, he leaned down to kiss her.

  He tried anyway.

  She put a hand on his chest to stop him.

  “What?” he asked, frowning.

  “We’re supposed to be friends. And friends don’t kiss when they say goodbye.”

  “Friends also don’t fuck each other up against wet paint on a wall, but we sure did that a little while ago.”

  She made a sound like a snicker, her dark eyes spilling over with warmth. “That was an accident.”

  “Was it?”

  “Yes. So you can do something about that look in your eyes.”

  “What look?” He couldn’t seem to stop smiling.

  “That look. You know which one. Like any moment you’re going to kiss me again.”

  He leaned forward and murmured against her ear. “I look like that because that’s exactly what’s about to happen.”

  She pushed him away gently with an irresistible giggle. “Jacob, seriously. We were going to try to be friends.”

  “I know we were. And if that’s really what you want, then I’ll work on it. But I’m starting to suspect you want more than that. I know for damn sure that I want more.”

  “But it’s messy!” She was still half smiling, but her expression also twisted reluctantly. “I don’t want to get hurt again. I don’t want either one of us to get hurt.”

  “So we won’t hurt each
other. If we both want that, I don’t know why it has to be complicated.” He leaned closer to say in little more than a breath, “Ria, sweetheart, we were made to be together.”

  She made a whimpering sound. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  He pulled back enough to look in her eyes, and the hesitance he saw there made him straighten up and drop his hands. “Okay. If you’re not sure yet, then I can wait. But you know what I want. It hasn’t changed in all these years. It’s never going to change.”

  She nodded, her face still tight with indecision and anxiety and something he hoped might be excitement.

  “I’ll call you later,” he said, glancing at his smartwatch. It was late in the evening. Later would be the middle of the night. “Or tomorrow, I guess.”

  “Tomorrow. I’ll talk to you then.” For a moment she looked torn. Frozen. Then she stretched up on tiptoe to press a kiss against the side of his jaw. Then she jumped into her car and drove away.

  He stood and watched until her car was out of sight, disappearing around the curve of the long driveway. Then he walked slowly back into the house, feeling relaxed. Satisfied. Kind of hungry. Tired in a good way. Like he could sleep for about twelve hours straight.

  He was in the kitchen, searching through the refrigerator for something easy to eat, when Martha found him. “Jacob.”

  He turned around, his mouth full of a slice of cheese he’d just stuffed into it.

  “It’s your grandpa.”

  All the soft flutters he’d been feeling clamped down into a heavy weight that sank into his gut. “Is he—?”

  “He’s worse. I’m not sure he’ll make it through the night.”

  Any word he might have said was trapped in his throat. He chewed and swallowed, nodding soberly at Martha’s tightly worried face.

  “I can stay if you want me to,” she said.

  He shook his head. “No need. I’ll sit with him tonight. He won’t be alone when he goes. I promise.”

  “Okay. I’ll be back early tomorrow. Just call if you need me.”

  When she reached a hand out toward him, Jacob took it. Squeezed it. Stood in place until she’d left the house, the screen door banging behind her.