Home to You (23 page)

The crunch of gravel mixed with my rapid pulse were the only sounds heard as I pulled in front of Rick’s house. It was different than I’d imagined. Not new and state of the art but old, rustic, and covered with brick and ivy. My shoulders began to relax—I made it in time—but then I spotted Rick leaning against the back of his SUV. He stood in perfect stillness, his expression hard and unamused. We made eye contact; then he pushed from the shiny black surface and climbed into the driver’s seat.

I glanced at my phone in the center console—I was five minutes early. Why did he look so pissed? My mind flashed to the message I sent last night. Had I said something that pissed him off?
 

 
I’d put every penny I had into this opportunity—if I screwed this up…but I wouldn’t let my mind go there. That was a slippery slope I didn’t have the strength for right now. I squared my shoulders, took a deep breath, and got out of the car.
 

When I climbed into the passenger seat beside him, the silence in the cab was suffocating.
 

 
“Good morning,” I said, my voice harsh, and not my own.
 

He eyed me up and down. “Morning.”
 

I cleared my throat and reached for my seatbelt. “Where are we headed?”
 

“Downtown.” He shifted the car into drive, and we were on our way.
 

An hour later I stood breathless in front of the St. Dominic’s Catholic Church in downtown Los Angeles. It was beautiful. The entrance perfection all on its own. Weathered stone sculpted with ornate sophistication, a door that must have been twenty feet high and carved into a masterpiece of geometric shapes. It was humbling to stand in the presence of such art—let alone hold a camera in a place as magnificent as this.
 

Rick went over my instructions once again, and adrenaline pulsed through my veins. My job would be to spend the morning with the bride and her bridesmaids. He explained they’d feel more comfortable with a woman, that I’d be able to take more unguarded shots, but he looked so angry I wondered why he was giving me so much responsibility.
 

He rattled off a list of “must have” details, “…gown, flowers, ring, garter, shoes.” Then he turned to me and eyed me up and down once again. “Don’t screw this up, Katie.”
 

Details were my thing, the part of photography I loved most. I wasn’t worried about that, but Rick’s warning terrified me.
 

A minute later, I followed the wedding coordinator down a dark hall to the bride’s quarters and tried to push all the episodes of
Bridezilla
from my thoughts. This wasn’t my first wedding, but somehow working under Rick’s scrutiny made me feel as though it was. I took a deep breath and braced myself as the coordinator pushed open the door. A bride wearing a white satin robe stood in the center of the room. She looked over her shoulder, smiled, and her shoulders visibly relaxed. I knew in that moment everything would be fine.
 

I spent a few hours with the girls, listening to nervous chatter, as everyone got ready. Then later that afternoon, I left the bridal chambers to meet Rick in the sanctuary. Deep mahogany pews were surrounded by stained glass windows, and stone pillars framed the scarlet aisle that would lead the bride to her groom. A gasp of pleasure escaped my throat.
 

 
Fifty rows back, a staircase led to an upper-level balcony. I knew this was where I was supposed to be, so I climbed to the very top. There were no seats above, just a mahogany banister that extended across the width of the sanctuary. I took a couple of practice shots and began to panic at the vast absence of light.
 

“Is there a problem, Ms. McGregor?”

Rick’s cool voice startled me, and I whipped around to face my boss. “I—I just didn’t realize there would be so little light.”

His jaw tightened, and he roughly set his equipment to the ground before stalking toward me. “Fuck. I thought you knew what you were doing.”

All I could do was blink. What could I even say to that?

“Give me your camera,” he barked.
 

I handed it over and watched in stunned silence as he adjusted the settings, then gave it back to me.
 

“You can’t be serious. That shutter speed is way too low.” 
1/50, way too low for the lens I was working with.
 

“Take a shot,” he commanded in a low voice.    

I flung the camera strap around my neck and turned. My hands gripped at my sides as I gritted my teeth. I wanted to tell him he was an idiot—a jerk, but I did neither.

I felt him move behind me as I got into position. Then one of his hands snaked around my middle, while the other took the arm that held my camera and pressed it close to my body. My gut twisted. He was demonstrating how to make my body strong and still, like a human tripod. Something I’d known since I was thirteen.  

“Take a deep breath, Katie,” he whispered in my ear. “That’s right. Now take the shot.” His voice was demanding, urgent, and I did as he said.

A second later, he moved away, and exhaled.
What the hell was that?

“Five shots in rapid succession,” he ordered. “Exactly like that, and you’ll be fine.” He didn’t wait for me to answer, or even look at my camera before he picked up his gear and heading back down the stairs. The shots were perfection.

The rest of the ceremony and reception went off without a hitch, and I began to question whether my uneasiness on the balcony was an overreaction. Rick was gruff and demanding, but he knew what he was doing. His ways weren’t what I was used to, but this was different than any other job I’d ever had. He wasn’t an office with human resources and a break room. I was working for an artist, one who was brilliant and looked up to by his peers. Did it really matter that he barked orders and crossed boundaries? I had the opportunity to learn from him, and I needed to shut up and deal with it.

We made it back to Rick’s house at just after eleven, and I was completely exhausted. A wedding would do that regardless, but I hadn’t started the day in the best shape in the first place. He invited me inside while he backed up my images, but I told him I needed to make a phone call, and sat in my car. The truth was, even though I resolved to work with him, the thought of being alone with him in his house made my stomach turn.
 

“You did good today, Ms. McGregor,” he said, as he handed me my camera through my car door.
 

“Thank you. I had a lot of fun.” Which was the truth. I was able to escape from my own life for a moment, and nothing could’ve been better than that today.
 

“Good, because I’ll have another job for you in two weeks.”
 

“Yes—yes of course.” A thrill ran through me, and I sat straight up in my seat.

“It’s a weekend job, and will pay double the thousand I’m paying you tonight. We leave Friday afternoon, and won’t come back until Sunday. Does that work for you?”
 

My pulse quickened. This was great news, though I couldn’t help but worry about being alone with him for that long. “Yes, of course,” I stammered out.
 

“Good.” He handed me a manila envelope I could feel was thick with cash. “I’ll be in touch.”

A thousand dollars? We’d never talked about money, but this was double what I was expecting. When I pulled away from the curb, I realized that in two weeks’ time I would have enough money to move out of Jake’s house, to live on my own, and finally get settled. I wouldn’t be a burden to anyone; I’d have no one to call when I’d be home late or to yell at me when I forgot. Jake would have his life back, and I would no longer be a burden. The thought should’ve made me happy, but the feeling that settled inside me was anything but.
 

When I pulled in front of the house, the lights were still on, and a lump formed in my throat. Jake was home and waiting for me. I wanted to see him, but didn’t want to at the same time. I wished we could just forget about last night and go back to how things were at the beach. But life was never easy like that, and I knew I had to face him.

After depositing my gear in my room, I slipped off my shoes and found him on the back deck. The small lights that streamed across the patio reminded me of fireflies in the darkness, and a hint of chlorine and freshly cut grass lingered in the air. It felt like the hot summer nights we spent under the stars, lying on the concrete cooled by the night’s sky, and dreaming of all the things we’d do when we grew up.

Jake sat on a stool by the bar, his back to me as he strummed his old guitar. I recognized the song he played. “Stand by Me,” the anthem of my teen years. The song we sang around campfires after Dad passed, a vow between Dave, Jake, and me that we’d always be there for one another—even if no one else was.
 

Then Jake began to sing. The deep baritone I hadn’t heard in years. The lyrics of pain, sorrow, and hope—so quiet I had to strain to hear. I wanted to move closer, to see his face, but I didn’t want to ruin the moment. I didn’t know why, but I needed this.
 

I leaned against the door, closed my eyes, and let it all soak in. The peacefulness of the yard, the cool breeze that swept away the long day, and the sound of Jake’s voice. A sinking feeling settled inside. This was one of the last days I’d be alone with him. In two weeks I’d be gone—it wouldn’t be the same.  

When I opened my eyes a minute later, Jake was watching me, and the music stopped.
 

My heart clenched, but I didn’t move. Neither did he. He just sat there, his eyes penetrating mine as I searched for something to say.
 

He placed his guitar to the ground, stood, and shoved his hands in his pockets. “My shuttle will be here in a few minutes.” His voice was deep, his eyes intense, and I nodded. I’d forgotten he was leaving. I didn’t want him to.

Then he swallowed, and took a step closer.
“I’ve been thinking a lot the last couple days…”
Something about the way he looked at me made it difficult to breathe.
“We’ve been through a lot together, you and I.”
 

Emotions stirred in my belly and I chewed my bottom lip. It was true. We’d been through
so
much.

He stepped forward and searched my face. “You’re a huge part of who I am, Katie, I want to you know that.”
 

My throat tightened and I couldn’t speak.
 

“When you came home—” He stopped, his eyes drifting to his feet before his next words. “You’re one of the only people who’ve ever mattered to me in my life.”  

My eyes were locked on him, but I remained silent. Not wanting to interrupt, not knowing what to say if I did.
 

“When Dave and I landed our first construction job, you were the only one who was proud of me. I can still remember you jumping up and down in that old house.” He laughed under his breath. “Your opinion was all I cared about. Not my parents, not my buddies at the office…”

He looked up, and his hand gripped the back of his neck. “After Dave died—you were the only reason I was able to hold myself together.”

I covered my mouth, and his eyes flickered with the twinkling lights.

“But there’s something I’ve been wanting—needing to tell you.” He looked to his feet and swallowed—hard. “Katie…I was supposed to meet the inspector that morning. Dave covered for me because my car wouldn’t start.” His brows were furrowed and his voice strained. “I tried to tell you so many times, but I couldn’t stand the thought of you looking at me differently. Knowing that if it wasn’t for me—”

I stepped closer. “Jake, don’t.”
 

He shook his head and visions of him on his knees in our old living room flooded me.
 

“Is that why your Mustang isn’t here? Did you sell it?”
 

He nodded, and I pushed myself forward, slowly moving closer. I stopped when I stood in front of him, my throat so tight it practically strangled me.
 

He placed a hand along my neck and trailed a thumb across my jaw.
 

“It wasn’t your fault, Jake.” I grabbed his wrist and looked into his eyes, needing for him to believe me. “I would have never thought that. You could have told me.”
 

He nodded. “I know I haven’t been the easiest guy to live with the last few days, but you coming back hasn’t been easy. ”

My stomach twisted and I turned my head. Here it was. He’d tell me how complicated I’d made his life. That I needed to find another place to stay. Coming home hadn’t been easy for me either, but the thought of hearing the words from his mouth made all the air expel from my throat. “Rick hired me again.” I stepped away. “In two weeks I’ll be able to move out, you’ll have your place back. Your life back.”
 

His brows furrowed, the lines in his forehead deepened. “Katie, that’s not what I meant.”
 

“It’s time.” Even as the words flowed from my mouth, I wanted him to tell me differently. I wanted him to hold on to the girl who was scared to death of losing yet another man she loved.

He searched my face. “Where is this coming from?”
 

I ran my teeth over my bottom lip in an attempt not to cry. “I know I haven’t made things easy for you. For Grace—”
 

“We’re over, Katie.” He cut me off.

My heart leapt to my throat. “What?”
 

“That’s where I was this morning.” His eyes bored into mine and he stepped toward me. His strong hand settled on the small of my back, urging me closer. I shook my head, wondering if I was in the middle of a dream. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” His voice was low, almost a whisper as he spoke. My left hand settled on the smooth cotton of his shoulder, and we began to sway. I didn’t know what was happening between us, but in that moment I didn’t care. I didn’t care about our past, or that if he pulled away, I would break.