Authors: Denise Hunter
Driftwood Lane (27 page)
“I love you,” he whispered.
His voice registered, but the meaning didn’t sink through her foggy thoughts.
He gave her a little shake. “Did you hear me?” His thumb moved down her face, along the corner of her lip. “I
love
you.”
His ardent tone cut through the fog, clearing a path for his words.
She shook her head.
“Yes.”
She was so stupid. How had she allowed this to happen? Did she think because they were blind in the darkness that it didn’t count? That there would be no consequences?
“Meridith?” Ben’s small voice called from down the hall.
“Say something,” Jake whispered, and she knew he wasn’t talking about Ben.
Jake’s hands, the ones she couldn’t get enough of before, now felt like a vise. She pulled them away.
“Meridith,” he said.
“I have to go.” She whirled into the shadows before he could stop her. With trembling hands she felt her way through the darkness and she knew, come morning, nothing would be as difficult as facing the light of day.
Jake awoke late the next morning, a rarity. After finding his way to the basement the night before, he’d found nothing wrong and had called the power company to discover that an accident had taken down the wires. After being assured electricity would resume in a few hours, he went to bed.
But he didn’t go to sleep. No, he lay for hours remembering the feel of Meridith in his arms, the feel of her lips on his. He remembered until he wanted to stride down the hall, knock on her door, and tell her something was wrong and it had nothing to do with the electric.
What was holding her back? The fact that she was leaving? That she was still in love with Stephen? Was it possible that she somehow saw Jake as beneath her? A mere carpenter . . . She’d never treated him that way, but what else was there?
His mind spun with possibilities, returning repeatedly to the fact that she didn’t know who he was. He had to tell her, but he’d been hoping . . .
What? That he could win her heart first? Heaven knew discovering he was the uncle wasn’t going to win him anything but her wrath.
Now that his feelings were involved, they muddied the waters more than ever. It wasn’t only the kids he had to consider now. There were Meridith’s feelings, not to mention his own, and he’d clarified those pretty well.
And he did love Meridith. Despite her response—to the words or lack thereof—he wasn’t sorry he’d said them. It was the truth.
But now he realized his declaration had frightened her. What if she asked him to leave? In the middle of the night, he decided to start on the fireplace right away. He’d have half the stone chipped out, and then what could she do? She couldn’t afford to pay someone else to finish.
Jake woke to a quiet house. The kids were at school, and Meridith was avoiding him—he had no doubt that’s what she was doing. At least it gave him a chance to dismantle the chimney.
By the time she pulled in the drive, the fireplace was a mess. Mission accomplished. And now that she was home, he’d finally get the chance to talk to her about last night.
But when the door opened, the kids bustled through—a half-day at school, Noelle fairly sang. Great, now he just needed a dozen guests to arrive on their doorstep and they were good to go. And as it was a Friday, he realized that could very well happen.
All afternoon Meridith buzzed around the house, fixing rooms, mixing up a batch of something in the kitchen, vacuuming the rugs. Doing everything but speaking to him, making eye contact with him.
But she wasn’t fooling him. The woman had wanted that kiss as badly as he had. Even now, as he chiseled away a loose piece of mortar, the memory stole his breath. He ran the back of his hand across his cheek, rubbing away the dust and grit.
His stomach growled, and he checked his watch. It was nearly dinnertime, and he needed to clean up his mess and shower. As he swept away the debris, he could hear Meridith and a newly arrived guest talking on the porch.
After dinner he was going to get a few minutes of her time. Surely she knew it was coming. Surely she knew she couldn’t avoid him for two weeks. Not after that kiss, not after what he’d said.
An hour later Jake was seated across the table from Meridith. She chatted with the kids while Jake brooded about what he’d say when he finally got her alone.
After a long meal, the kids finally pushed back from the table. Meridith hopped up, no doubt to busy herself in the kitchen. But Jake was prepared.
“Meridith, a word?”
“I have to clear the table and do the dishes,” she said without a glance.
“Max and Ben, clear the table, please. Noelle, the dishes?”
The kids agreed before Meridith could protest. Finally, she set down the casserole dish, apparently realizing she couldn’t stop the inevitable.
He gestured toward the back door, and she exited the house. Not wanting the kids to overhear, he continued down the porch steps into the yard, stopping at the steps leading to the beach.
Dark clouds gathered on the horizon, and the wind tugged at Meridith’s blouse. She’d known this was coming, had dreaded it all night and all day. Had lain awake for hours trying to put words to her feelings. Impossible. Instead, she’d felt Jake’s lips on hers, heard those words that all but stopped her heart.
Jake turned to face her, leaning against the wood railing of the beach steps. She wasn’t deceived by the casual pose—he was going to get to the bottom of this. Only Meridith didn’t know what was at the bottom. She only knew this thing with Jake could not happen.
She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye. Not after that kiss. It had been easier in the dark. Too easy. She felt a flush climbing her neck as she remembered deliberately touching his bare flesh. She’d made no bones about wanting that kiss. What had gotten into her?
Even now her skin warmed, her pulse sped as if preparing for a repeat. She wished she could hide the flush that climbed her cheeks. Wished he would say something. Anything.
“What’s going on?” he said.
The wind breathed a cool breath across her skin, making her shiver. “What do you mean?”
“Come on, Meridith—that kiss . . .”
“It was just a kiss,” she said feebly, but her mind replayed the embrace, refuting her words.
“You won’t even look at me.” His voice was strained. “Maybe we need to turn out the lights.”
Her face burned. Even the wind couldn’t cool it. The grass at Jake’s feet shimmied and bowed over his scarred tennis shoes.
“I don’t know what to say. I—I just can’t do this.” She wrapped her arms around her middle.
“Why?”
She searched the ground for answers like she’d find it among the blades of grass, pull it up by the roots, and hand it over. If only it were so easy.
When nothing materialized, she chose the only answer that sounded logical. “I just broke my engagement a month ago. You can’t expect—”
“This isn’t about him, and you know it.”
An ache started behind her eyes. “I don’t know what it is.”
“Then there’s nothing to stop us, is there? Unless you don’t feel anything for me . . .” Self-doubt crept into his tone.
She let the sentence hang, unable to deny it. She prayed somehow he wouldn’t remember her response to the kiss or at least not remember it the way she did. She took three cleansing breaths. Four.
The briny air failed to calm her.
“No, it’s there, isn’t it.” It wasn’t even a question.
There was no point denying it. “All right, I won’t deny an attraction. But that’s all, that’s all there can be.”
“Why?”
She threw her hands up. “I’m leaving soon, moving hundreds of miles away, I’ve just inherited three kids, my engagement’s broken, my future’s uncertain . . .” Surely there was more, but her mind ran out of steam.
“Those are all things people work around.” He took a step toward her, then another. “There’s something else.”
A memory flashed in her mind. Her mother, in manic mode coming toward her, slowly, just like this. She’d been no more than nine years old, had been wrapped in her mom’s arms only an hour earlier, but an hour made all the difference. Now her mom’s face was red and mottled, and she was yelling. Meridith had covered her ears with her hands.
Jake’s movement snagged her attention. He was getting close.
She stepped back. 974 . . . 948 . . . 922 . . .
“Why are you running?”
She knew he wasn’t talking about the step. It hadn’t put nearly enough distance between them. He was there, right in front of her. 896 . . . 8 . . .
“Meridith.” He took her by the shoulders.
The motion drew her eyes to his, and she knew it with certainty: she was too far gone. As far gone as he, maybe more. What had she done? How was she going to escape with her heart intact? There weren’t enough calming breaths to fix this. She could count backward from a million and still be where she was now. Hopelessly in love with the man who made her feel too many things.
“You’re afraid.” His own statement seemed to surprise him.
Was she afraid? She took a frantic survey of her vitals. Was it fear or just this . . . she struggled to find the word. Why was it so hard? And why did he have to torture her with the particulars? She didn’t want to think about this. Why couldn’t he just drop it?
“What are you afraid of?” He gave her a little shake. “What, Meridith?”
“I don’t like the way you make me feel!” The words burst from her unbidden. It was as close to the truth as she could get. This inward searching was worse than feeling her way through the darkness. She felt like she’d just smacked into a wall.
Jake released her slowly.
She rubbed the place where his hands had been, hoping they were done.
Please let’s be done
.
“Explain.”
She should’ve known he couldn’t leave it at that. “I don’t know how.”
“Try.”
The wind blew her hair across her face. She welcomed the screen between them. “You make me feel . . . unsettled.” It was as close as she could come to explaining, but it didn’t do justice to what he did to her.
“That can be a good thing.” She heard amusement in his tone. It reminded her of when she first met him.
“Not for me,” she said, suddenly saddened to realize where they’d ended up all these weeks later. “I spent my whole childhood feeling unsettled. I’m done with that.”
The wind blew again, pulling the curtain of hair from her face. He was like this wind, pulling her one way one minute, another the next, changing course without warning.
“So . . . what? You’re going to live your life without love? What kind of life is that?”
“There are different kinds of love.”
“Like what you had with Stephen?” He jammed his hands in his pockets. “That’s not love, Meridith, that’s settling.”
A knot swelled in her throat. He could see it however he wanted, but that wasn’t going to change anything. She was done here. She turned and walked toward the house. The wind sucked at her shirt.
“You gonna let your fears dictate your life, Meridith?” he called after her.
But she didn’t stop. Didn’t stop until she’d made it up the stairs, to her room, to her bed, where she slipped under the covers and let herself cry.
Jake took three steps after her and stopped. She was already to the porch, then inside the house in a matter of seconds.
He forked his fingers through his hair, clutching fistfuls until his scalp tightened. He’d been confused until she’d looked at him, until he’d seen the look in her eyes. And then he knew.
She was afraid.
Afraid because he made her feel things, things she hadn’t felt with Stephen or probably anyone else, because this was real love. Not some tepid, watered-down version.
But Meridith wanted tepid. She wanted safe.
His scalp burning, he lowered his hands. Something nudged his leg. Piper stared up at him, and Jake set a hand on her head, absently rubbed her ear.
He wondered what part of Meridith’s childhood had left her afraid of something as natural and necessary as love. Was it her mother’s mental illness? T. J.’s leaving her?
If she’d only open up to him, maybe he could help her sort it out. He was a patient man. He’d wait her out, love her until she realized he was safe.
But she was unwilling to try. Wanted to run as far and fast as she could from what he offered. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t make her try, force her to shed her fears. If only he could make her see what she was missing.
But he was running out of time. He was nearly finished with the house, had two weeks, tops, if she didn’t kick him out first. And soon after that she was leaving the island.
And she still didn’t know who he was.
Jake kicked the ground, sending a spray of sand into the air, then started down the beach steps. He had to get away from here, breathe some fresh air, think. Piper barked as she jogged along the property line, keeping pace with him.
Why did Meridith have to be so stubborn? Why couldn’t she just give him a chance? He knew they’d be amazing together. She’d opened her heart to the kids, admirably so. It couldn’t have been easy accepting her father’s other children, but she’d done it.
Why couldn’t she open her heart to him? Jake retrieved a shell and hurled it into the ocean. He needed to throw about a hundred more before he even began to work off the excess steam.
Piper barked and whined, having reached the property’s edge. He’d take off her collar and bring her along, but the dog was afraid to leave the yard.
Piper barked louder, almost squealing. Jake stopped, then walked toward the dog. He slugged through the thick sand, up the grassy incline.
Piper wagged her tail at his approach.
All right, Piper
.
He leaned down, released Piper’s collar, and tossed it on the lawn. Backing away, he called her.
She stared back, wagging her tail.
“Come on, Piper!” He called again over the wind, patting his leg.
She danced around, her paws at the edge of the property. She let loose a sharp bark.
Jake retreated farther, down the incline to the sand. “Come on, girl!”
