Crashing Into Love (12 page)

“Yeah, I remember.” His voice was low and husky. She didn’t need to see him clearly to know he was feeling the same spark of heat she was. “You always had the biggest heart.” His hand stilled between her shoulder blades, then moved away.

She wanted it back. He turned away, and the air in the room shifted, became cooler.

“Well, you had the biggest heart except where I was concerned.”

Oh no. She’d worried over having this discussion for years, and now that it was upon her, she could barely think. Everything she’d planned on saying was lost in the hurt that lingered in his tone.

“Jake.”

“It’s okay, Fiona. It was probably a good thing that we broke up.”

“A good thing?” She couldn’t tell if he was deflecting or serious.

“Sure. I mean, how many people who were together in high school stay together forever? I would have just hurt you, and it would’ve ended badly.”

“That’s not true, and you know it.”

“Do I?”

He faced her again, and now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she saw the anger lingering in his eyes, no matter how he’d softened his tone.

“You loved me, Jake. You could have cheated on me anytime in those two years. There were plenty of opportunities for both of us to stray.”

“And you’re sure I never did?” He arched a brow, and for a split second she doubted what she knew to be true.

She nodded, unable to find her voice.

His hand landed on her back again, and she stiffened against it to keep from relaxing into his touch.

“You’re right. I never would have back then. But now...” He shrugged.

“I was messed up back then, Jake. When my dad left, it totally messed with my head.”

His hand caressed her back. “That was a rough time for your whole family. I remember Reggie storming back into town with an ax to grind.”

Reggie had been interning in New York the summer their father had left. He had become superprotective of her and Shea after their father left.

“None of my brothers have forgiven our father. I think that’s the reason Reggie became a private investigator. He was never going to be duped again—at least that’s how it seemed.” Brent and Jesse lived in Harborside, Massachusetts, and avoided their father at all costs. And then there was Finn, who was a smoke jumper and thrived on risk as much as Jake did. He had a heart of gold—except where their father was concerned.

“And how about you, Fi? Did you ever make peace with your old man?”

She nodded. “As best as I could, sure.”

Jake looked away. “Good. I’m glad for that. I know you were close.”

“Jake, I’m sorry you got ripped off in the father department.”

He swung his chin back in her direction with a slight smile on his lips. “Yeah, such is life. People get ripped off in lots of departments.”

Ouch
.

He rubbed his neck and stretched it to the right, then the left, then rubbed it again.

“Here, let me rub it for you.” She shifted so her body faced his.

“I’m fine.”

“Oh, come on, Jake. I remember how your neck tenses up, and you took a hard fall today. It’s the least I can do after you rescued me.” She gently turned his body so she could reach his neck from behind. She used both hands to massage the sides of his neck, then pressed her thumbs into the tight muscles and stroked down under his shirt and away from his spine, trying not to think about the desire pooling low in her belly.

With one hand, Jake reached behind him and pulled his shirt over his head. Fiona’s breath left her lungs in a rush. This might be too much. Her chest prickled with heat as her hands settled back onto his neck. He placed his hand over hers, pressing it firmly to his skin.

“I’d forgotten how good you were with your hands.”

She closed her eyes, trying not to hold on to the innuendo in his voice. She was so filled with desire for him that she feared she was turning everything he did into what she wanted to see.

He squeezed her hand, then released it, and she felt him relax into her touch. She swallowed to keep from making any sounds of pleasure, because touching Jake again brought pleasure to every one of her senses, except taste, and, boy, did she ever want to taste him. She slid her hands over the crest of his shoulders, kneading the muscles that were corded tight.

“I never meant to hurt you,” she said just above a whisper, a little surprised at the words. She hadn’t been thinking about saying them; they’d just come out on their own.

He nodded silently.

She slid her hands down his biceps and scooted closer, pressing her thighs against his hips to stabilize herself so she could press harder as she kneaded the tension from his arms.

Jake sighed and leaned his head back against her chest. She blinked rapidly against the threat of tears. She felt his barriers coming down and knew she wasn’t imagining it, and she reveled in everything about him, the smell of soap on his skin, the feel of him unwinding, accepting their friendship. After how he’d reacted at the bar, it was more than she’d thought possible.

“We always were hanging by a moment,” he said. “But I never realized it back then. I always thought we were solid.” He reached behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist, hugging her to his back. “But I guess you were like ‘Drops of Jupiter.’”

“Train sings that,” she whispered. She knew the song well. It was all about a girl who leaves her boyfriend to find herself, but only finds herself lonely in the end. They could have written that song about
her
.

“Did you find everything that you were looking for, Fi?” He turned his upper body and gazed into her eyes. “
Is
heaven overrated?”

“Anything without you is overrated. That’s what I found out.”

He touched his forehead to hers and her hand slid down his chest. She felt his heart thumping to the same frantic beat as hers. Felt him press his hand more firmly on her back.

“Fi, I’ll disappoint you,” he whispered.

She shook her head, whispered, “I don’t believe it.”

His hand moved up her back to her neck, stealing her thoughts completely. His lips were so close, but even more overwhelming was knowing his heart was opening, even if cautiously. She felt it in his touch, saw it in the depths of emotion in his eyes.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said with a serious tone.

“I never meant to hurt you, and I’ll spend my life being sorry. I’ll never do it again, Jake. I’ve missed you too much.”

“Did you hear me, Fi?” His brows drew together. “I’m not the same guy I was.”

She ran her hand through his hair, and he made a noise in his throat that rattled through her. “You’re not the guy you are now, either. You’re somewhere in between, and I want to find out who that person is.”

“You’re my kryptonite,” he said just above a whisper as he tugged her in closer, their lips brushing. “I never could resist you.”

“Then don’t.”

He searched her eyes, and she hoped he saw how much she wanted this, how much she wanted
him
. In the next second, their lips met, and her body felt as though it had burst into flames. The kiss was soft and rough at once, tentative for only a second, maybe two, then aggressive and greedy. His tongue swept over hers. He tightened his grip on her and tugged her down to the floor with him, sweeping her beneath him, folding her into his embrace as he deepened the kiss. His lips were as soft as she remembered, but his scruff scratching her cheeks was new and tantalizing. The kiss was more intense, better, needier and more possessive. She never wanted the kiss to end, and when his hand slid beneath her T-shirt and he brushed the underside of her breast with his thumb, she moaned with pleasure.

Yes, please. Touch me. Make me yours. Become mine.

Jake pulled back, brows drawn together again. “Hear that?”

She couldn’t hear past the rush of blood racing through her veins and her heavy breathing. She shook her head.

“Damn.” He sat up, taking her with him, and gazed up at the ceiling.

“What is it?” She heard something faint but couldn’t make it out.

“Sorry, Fi.” He rose to his feet and helped her to hers. He dragged his eyes down her body. She felt exposed. Her nipples were hard, she was damp between her legs, and her insides quivered with need. “Christ, look at you.”

She reached up and touched her hair. “I couldn’t find a comb.”

“No, you’re…” He shook his head. “Way too hot for these assholes.” He pulled her against him and inhaled a long breath. The kiss he pressed to the top of her head was reminiscent of years past and made her feel safe in his arms.

“Come on.” He took her hand and led her upstairs. Voices and laughter filtered in from outside. It had stopped raining, and there were at least ten people milling about by the pool.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were expecting people.” She crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn’t even wearing a bra, much less underwear. “Where are my clothes?”

With an arm securely around her, he took her back to the laundry room and closed the door behind them. He took her clothes from the dryer.

“I wasn’t
expecting
people. This is my life now, Fi.” He searched her eyes, then cupped her cheeks and kissed her again, long and passionate, in a way that felt strangely like an apology.

She didn’t know what to say and probably couldn’t have spoken at the moment if she wanted to. She wanted another kiss—or a hundred more. She turned her back and pulled off his T-shirt, then put on her bra. Jake wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing her neck. She stilled long enough to enjoy a full-body shudder from the swipe of his tongue up the length of her neck.

“This is your life.” She drew her brows together. “What does that mean?” She put her shirt on, then turned to face him. He had a hungry look in his eyes, but while she was able to think, she wanted to understand what he meant.

“Jake?” It came out as a plea.

“I’m sorry.” He shook his head as if to clear his mind. “People come over pretty often, without warning.”

“Jake?” a female voice called down the hall.

Fiona felt her eyes widen. Jake ignored whoever was calling him and closed the gap between them, pulling Fiona’s hips against his hard length. He kissed her again, a passionate kiss that made her knees go soft and left her wanting more.

“You’d better get dressed because that thong you’re holding is reminding me that you’re not wearing any underwear.”

 She could barely think after that searing-hot kiss and with him looking at her like he wanted to devour her. She was about as functional as a drunk.

“Jake?” The woman’s voice sounded closer, startling Fiona’s brain into functioning again.

“Maybe you should go see your friend while I finish changing.” She didn’t want him to go. She wanted him to stay and kiss her again and again, but that woman’s voice was drawing out Fiona’s claws of jealousy. If she was going to have a chance with Jake, this was the tip of the iceberg of things she’d have to be strong enough to deal with.

JAKE KNEW HE needed to deal with the woman in the hall, but he didn’t want to leave Fiona. The kisses they’d shared stirred memories and emotions that he thought he’d long ago lost the ability to feel, and he wanted to feel them over and over again—with Fiona. He’d forgotten how a kiss could transport him someplace warm and erotic, wonderful and illicit, instead of just being a vessel for releasing pent-up anger. He’d forgotten how a kiss from Fiona could do those things for him, and now that he remembered, he didn’t want to take a chance that one of those goddamn actors out there would find her just as appealing and come with far less baggage than he was carrying around.

“Jake?” The woman’s voice was getting farther away.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

Fiona turned around and slid Jake’s sweatpants slowly down her hips. Holy hell. There was no way he’d be able to keep his hands off of her. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and turned away to keep from pulling her close again.

“God, Jake. People just come and go? I feel like I’m in high school, hiding out at a party.”

“If we were in high school, hiding out at a party, I don’t think you’d be pulling
up
those cute little shorts.”

He turned back as she zipped her fly and watched at him with a coy smile. He reached for her hand, trying to ignore the voice in the back of his mind reminding him that while she could take him where no other woman could, she had the power to crush him. She had left him once, when he was good and kind. A completely different person than he was now. When he was a better person. What hope did he have that she’d stick around this time with that hanging like a noose around his neck?

“I can call a cab so you can hang with your friends.”

Friends
. The term made him cringe inside. Sure, he had a handful of friends he could call if he was in a pinch, but he wasn’t fooling himself. They were all part of the act that had become part of him. They came over for the parties or the prestige of being at Jake Braden’s house. They kept him from spending time in his own head, picking apart all the emotions behind the floodgates that Fiona opened in the blink of an eye.

He pushed the uncomfortable thoughts away and pulled her against him.

“Not a chance.” This felt right, having her with him, holding her. God, he actually
wanted
to hold her, not just sleep with her. It had been years since he’d felt that desire—and a rude awakening to how far he’d fallen.

“Jake, it’s okay. I don’t mind.”

He heard in her voice that it wasn’t really okay, even if she wanted him to believe it was. Maybe she even wanted to think it was, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see the hope in her eyes.

He also knew what the people beyond the laundry room door represented: the man he’d become. He was so conflicted that his gut ached. He felt as though he were playing a game of tug-of-war. On one end was Fiona, beckoning him back to the safety of who he’d been, who
they’d
been, and offering him love that he knew was all encompassing. But he couldn’t forget that it had also been disposable, at least to her. Nor could he forget that there was a world between who he had been and who he was now. On the other side of the rope were all those people on the other side of the door, and a whole hell of a lot more, representing the life he’d created, the reputation he’d built. How was he supposed to navigate the two?