I Only Have Eyes For You (23 page)

His voice came from behind her. “I went to see Zach tonight.”

She spun from the sink, forgetting she had the wet towel in her hand and flinging water on her walls. “Why?” But she knew why. “You told him about us, about my pregnancy, didn’t you?” When he didn’t deny it, pain moved through her as she said, “How could you? You promised me you’d wait. You promised you’d let me figure things out first.” She loved him—would always love him—but she was angry with him too. “Why ask for a week if you weren’t actually going to give it to me?”

“You keep wanting to hold on to this
week
thing, but after yesterday, after this morning, you know as well I do that things are different between us now.”

“Different?
Different?
How different could things be if you’re still acting like you run the world and the rest of us should just blindly follow your every last command?”

“I’m not going to keep hiding the truth from your family.”

“The
truth?
And what truth is that, exactly? That you have zero respect for my wishes? That you just up and take whatever you want, whenever you want it? That it is so important to you to lock me into marrying you that you had to go behind my back to tell my brother you made the mistake of sleeping with me and getting me pregnant?”

“You want to hear the goddamned truth?”

Jake had never raised his voice to her like this before, but then again, neither had she. “Of course I do, but you wouldn’t know the truth if it slammed into you like one of my brother’s fists!”

The abrupt silence that followed was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.

“I’m in love with you, Sophie.”

Sophie had waited for this moment her whole life...but even in her wildest dreams, she hadn’t thought it would be like this, while they were screaming at each other and she was furious with him.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, since the first time a pretty little five-year-old girl looked up at me and asked me if I wanted to play dolls.”

“You said no.” The words, the memories, came before she could clamp down on them. “You said you wouldn’t play dolls with me if someone was holding a gun to your head. You scared me.” And thrilled her in equal measure. Even then, she’d known he shouldn’t be talking about guns to a five-year-old girl, but Jake didn’t play by anyone else’s rules. Whereas, Sophie had rarely played outside those rules...until Chase’s wedding, when she’d chucked the rules in for desire.

And love.

“I only said that stuff to you because I hated the way I felt when you looked at me. The way I still feel every time I’m with you. Hell, Sophie, I feel it every time I even think about you, like I’ve finally found something, someone, who matters. Only, I’ve never had the first clue how to hold on to you. Or how to be worthy of you.”

How long had she wanted to believe she mattered to him? To believe in impossible love becoming possible?

Jake’s arms came around her as he sat on a kitchen chair and pulled her onto his lap. “I know I screwed this up. Big time.” He brushed a trail of moisture from her face. “I’m an idiot, remember?”

“No,” she had to say, “you’re not. You’re anything but that, Jake.”

But it was as if she’d never spoken. “Let me make it up to you.” He stroked her hair, pulled her closer. “Please don’t be mad at me. Don’t push me away. Even if I deserve it.”

Loving and hating someone at the same time was crazy. Sophie knew that. But she’d never been able to stop the way she felt about Jake.

All at once, the week full of highs and lows, of excitement and fear, of joy and anger, came crashing down on her. She didn’t want to think about the ramifications of what he’d just done by talking to Zach, couldn’t even begin to process what it would mean to really and truly have Jake’s love.

All she wanted was to feel.

“I need you.” Her throat was thick with emotion. “Make love to me.”

Maybe, she thought as she frantically fumbled with his belt buckle, it would be easier to believe him if they were skin to skin, connected by flesh and heat and pleasure. Maybe then she’d be able to actually hold onto his words of love instead of feeling like they were simply skidding past her, flying out of reach before she could catch them.

“Sophie, you know I want you. I always want you.” But instead of helping her strip his clothes off, he put his hands over hers. “But we don’t have to do th—”

“
Please.
”

She didn’t want to hit the Pause button, couldn’t stand it if he tried to be rational rather than just taking her. She yanked his zipper down and pulled his shirt from his pants a beat before he finally gave her what she wanted and unzipped her skirt to push it down her hips. She shoved his jeans down to his thighs, then kicked off her shoes. His fingertips grazed the bare skin of her stomach, pulling her sweater over her head right before she yanked open the buttons on his long-sleeved shirt. A heartbeat later she was straddling his hips and sinking down onto him, her eyes closing as she took him inside.

Yes, this was exactly what she needed right now. Pleasure to replace her confusion. Ecstasy to replace the fear.

And yet, she remembered too late that sex with Jake had never been simple, had never just been about pleasure. They’d always been such a perfect fit, their bodies utterly in tune with each other even during that first stolen night in Napa.

But this time it wasn’t just attraction that joined them, it wasn’t just the spark of arousal that made everything feel so good. It was the possibility that the magic between them was more than skin deep, more than just hormones and unavoidable passion.

“Sophie.” Jake groaned her name and she was caught in his dark gaze as he stilled her frantic movements over him with strong hands on her hips. “You’re so beautiful.” He moved a hand to cup her breasts, tilting up to run his tongue over each peak. “I love you. So, so much.” A flood of pure desperation pulled them closer together, wrapping around them as Jake buried his face against her chest and they shuddered against each other.

* * *

When Jake led her into the shower a few minutes later, she got a chance to see the full extent of the damage he’d incurred from his fight with her brother. In addition to the horrible bruises all across his jaw and over one eye, the ribs on his right side were turning black and blue.

“I can’t believe Zach did this to you.” She gently cleaned the cuts with a soft washcloth and soap, hating the way Jake winced at the sting.

“You’re his sister. He feels like he’s let you down by not protecting you from a guy like me.”

Anger welled up inside her again, not just at Zach for what he’d done to Jake, but at her entire family. “Why don’t any of them realize I can take care of myself?”

“Don’t fault them for loving you.”

But she was shaking her head. “Is it really love if there isn’t trust there, too?”

Jake went completely still. “Sophie, I—”

He cut himself off, and when she looked up at him she saw his eyes flashing with emotion he’d tried to hide so many times before.

But then his hands were on her hips and he was turning her away from him before saying, “I’ve always wanted to wash your hair.”

She knew what he was doing, avoiding yet another conversation they needed to have. About trusting each other not to do things like go to her brother behind her back. But his fingers massaging her scalp felt so good that she simply didn’t have the strength to make him stop.

“Close your eyes.”

She was already a step ahead of him, her eyes having closed the moment he’d started washing her. Suds and water ran down her shoulders, over her body, as he cleaned every inch of her skin, his touch so gentle, so sweet. Especially over her stomach.

“You’ve grown bigger already.”

She couldn’t miss the reverence in his voice. Maybe another time she could have made another pregnancy fetish joke, but not now, not when his joy was so pure. So honest.

“I can’t wait to watch you grow even rounder, even softer.”

Her stomach growled loudly and he turned off the water, wrapping her in a towel. “Sounds like it’s time to feed you again.”

“I have some eggs and cheese in the fridge.” She felt like her voice was coming from a mile away, like she was standing on the outside of her bathroom looking in at the two of them.

Jake lowered his face to hers and kissed her so softly it was more of a breath than a kiss. “I’ll get working on dinner while you get dressed.”

After he pulled his jeans back on and left the bathroom, she stared at herself in the foggy mirror. The blurred, partial image facing her was a perfect manifestation of how she was feeling.

She’d just gotten exactly what she’d always wanted. Jake McCann had told her—repeatedly—that he loved her. She should be ecstatic. She should be leaping around her apartment in bliss.

What was wrong with her?

She felt like a block of cement had taken up residence in the pit of her belly, right between the two fetuses she’d seen on the ultrasound screen just a few days before. She hadn’t felt quite right all day, actually, had chalked it up to morning sickness.

Jake looked up with a smile as she joined him. “Perfect timing.”

She took a seat beside him at her kitchen island, where he’d slid the full plate. She picked up her fork, speared some of the eggs, and blew on the steam rising even though the thought of food made her feel like puking.

“Sophie? Are you all right?”

Jake had moved beside her, was looking at her with deep concern etched across his face.

She tried to smile to reassure him, but all she could say was, “I’m just tired. Really, really tired.”

“Damn it, I knew I shouldn’t have dragged you all over the city yesterday.”

She didn’t resist as he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. Her limbs felt terribly stiff and heavy, exhaustion taking her over head-to-toe at almost the exact moment her head hit the pillow.

* * *

Jake sat in a chair in the corner of Sophie’s dark bedroom and watched her sleep, each breath she took pulling and tugging at his chest as if he were breathing with her.

He had sworn he’d never let himself feel this way, that he’d never let himself care about someone this much, that he’d never ask for help again. He could still remember the day he’d come home to ask his father for help. He was in fourth grade and it was getting nearly impossible to fake his way through class every day.

“I can’t read.”

His father had looked at him with disgust. “
It’s your mother’s fault. The stupid bitch couldn’t even give me a kid with brains.”

Jake had turned and run from their apartment before he could shame himself even more with tears. It was easier, after that, to skip out of class on reading days. Until the day he’d been put on a project with Zach Sullivan. The cocky little jerk had everything and Jake had hated him on sight. He hated Zach even more when he flat-out told Jake they weren’t going to skip the book report they were supposed to be doing together.

Jake remembered how cool he’d try to play it. “
Books are for losers.”

Zach had seen right through him. Maybe there had been other people who had guessed, but none of them had dared call Jake on it. Not flat-out like Zach had. “
You can’t read, can you?”

Jake threw the first punch, but Zach was barely a beat behind him. The two boys had done a pretty good job of smashing each other up before the teacher had pulled them apart. Zach’s mother came to the office to take her expelled son home. But they'd heard the secretary say that no one was coming for Jake, and before he could figure out how to get out of it, Mary Sullivan had both of them in the backseat of her station wagon. A few minutes later they were sitting in front of a huge plate of cookies with tall glasses of milk. The book they were supposed to do their report on,
The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe
, sat on the table between them, along with a thick blue dictionary that had clearly seen plenty of use.

“Let me know if you need any help, boys.”

She hadn’t yelled at them, hadn’t smacked Zach or called him stupid. She didn’t smell like booze, either. Jake couldn’t believe anyone like her existed, couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing about what his life could have been like if he’d had a mother like that.

After Mrs. Sullivan left the room, he’d been coiled into a tight ball of nerves and bravado, expecting Zach to smirk and rub in his stupidity, but all the guy did was shove a chocolate chip cookie into his mouth and open the book to start reading it out loud, spitting chunks all over the pages.

Zach never brought up his reading problem again, but somehow they always ended up working on reading projects together after that.

He’d met most of the crew that afternoon in their backyard, with the football to the back of his head. Lori swept into the middle of the group at some point, demanding the attention of her big brothers, wanting to know who
the new boy
was.

He couldn’t imagine having six siblings. How great it would be to have someone to play with all the time. And then, from the corner of his eye, he saw one more. She should have looked just like Lori, but he could never get them confused. Not even when they were five years old.

She was sitting in the corner of the yard beneath a large oak tree, with a big book open on her lap. But she wasn’t looking at the book.

She was looking at him.

He’d never seen anyone so still. So calm. Or so pretty. Sophie Sullivan had looked like a princess from one of those movies he snuck into the theaters to see sometimes.

Sophie shifted on the bed just then, as if she were reaching for something.
For him.
She frowned in her sleep before putting her arm around a pillow and hugging it close to her.

Trust.

If there was anyone he wanted to trust, it was Sophie. But after a lifetime of hiding the truth from everyone, keeping secrets was what he did best.

Never share.