Pierce My Heart (Women of Willowbrook Book 1) (23 page)

My eyes snap to him, squinty again.

He has his mouth clenched either from anger or laughter, but, judging from the shaking of his shoulders, I go with the latter.

When I make a muffled noise under his hand to try and voice my annoyance of this, the shaking stops.

“First, gotta say, no expectations. I’m not gonna pressure you or rush you. That being said, tasting more than your mouth would be far from disappointing,” he informs me.

My stomach dips, my legs squeeze together, and I shiver.

He sees it all and gives me a grin.

But when his grin vanishes and I catch sight of his face, more importantly his eyes, mine widen.

He’s gotten serious.

Like
seriously
, serious.

His jaw is clenched and the room feels like it’s gone on Red Alert, but it’s his eyes that really stun me.

They're soft to the point of gentle, but intense and possessive. There's almost a helplessness in them that I don't get.

“Now I’m gonna take my hand off your mouth, but I want you listen to me, yeah?” he asks.

When I nod, his hand comes away from my mouth only to move back to grip the side of my neck. It isn't hard, but it isn't soft. What it is, is a way for him to keep my attention and for me to know that he wants and needs it.

So, I give it to him.

“I need you to understand a few things, sweetheart. I’m pleased as fuck no one’s been in there in three years,” he begins and I blush, but he keeps on and I keep my eyes on him. “Means that when I do, and I will get in there, it’ll be that much sweeter. But I’m not pleased as fuck by why that is. The shit you went through, baby, is shit no woman should go through,
ever
. Knowing you went through it guts me, but knowing you came out on top eases things. Slightly.”

My breath feels heavy, my body weak and I have to lean more of my weight into my hands that rest on his chest to keep myself standing.

I shouldn’t have worried.

The second he feels it, his arm around my waist gets tighter, taking more of my weight from me.

This makes my stomach get melty.

“Though, I can see that you didn’t come out all the way on top. This shit about me being out of your league is just that.
Shit
. Everything I’ve seen, and there’s been a fucking lot, it’s all fucking
beautiful
, Annie. From your face and your fucking amazing, lush body, to the way you interact with your family. The things it says about you to earn the kind of devotion you’ve earned from Evan and your brothers—”

“They’re my brothers, they’re supposed to love me,” I mutter.

He doesn't miss a beat. “Yeah, babe, family’s supposed to love family, but family also doesn’t have to come running just because your friend calls and tells them shit’s gone down. Family doesn’t have to teach some fuckwad a lesson about how a real man handles shit instead of taking it out on their sister. Family doesn’t have to get up in a man’s face, worried about that sister and the intentions that man’s got about her. All that, Anna, is earned by the beauty you’ve got inside you.”

My eyes start stinging with unshed tears as I shake my head, trying to get him to stop.

He has to fucking stop.

He doesn’t.

He backs me up till my ass hits the back of the couch. His hand, still at my neck, tilts my head back to look at him while the arm around me pulls
tight
.

He’s crowding me in a way I like, but in a way that I know I need to brace for whatever’s coming next.  

I brace, but it isn't enough.

“Beauty like yours adopts a dog from a pound because she sees loneliness in her eyes and wants to stop it. Beauty like yours is giving unconditional love to someone so undeserving. Beauty like yours is offering to help as soon as shit goes down with worry all over your face. Beauty like yours, sweetheart, earns the devotion and love of people around you
because
of who you are. So no way, babe. No
fucking
way am I out of your league. If anything, it’s the opposite. And I thank God I get a chance at all that beauty,” he finishes, not even aware he’s just flipped my world on its axis.

His face so intense, his eyes so tender and sincere that I have to clench mine shut and look away.

This only lasts a second before his hand is on my chin turning it back.

“Look at me.”

I shake my head.

“Annie, baby, look at me,” he pleads in a rough voice.

My hands clench in his shirt knowing I can't deny him. I open my eyes and try to focus through the wet.

I don't say anything; I don't know what to say. My mind is a mess trying to absorb everything he’s said and ignore my gut reaction to disagree.

I’d convinced myself years ago that while it wasn’t my fault I was abused; it was my fault that I took it. That I stuck around and forgave him.

I accepted that, but I moved on and I healed.

At least I thought I had.  

It seems a shadow has hung around; a leftover of the wrong path I’d chosen.

“You don’t have to say anything. In fact, best you didn’t since it’d likely be more bullshit,” he says and I give him a small glare that's for show more than anything. “I’m just putting it out there. There’s a lot to you, sweetheart. A lot I like and a helluva lot more I wanna get to know. Make things easier if you didn’t make up bullshit reasons to argue.”

This time my glare is for more than show, but my tears have dried up.

Looks I don’t need to worry about a makeup catastrophe on top of an emotional upheaval.

Lucky me.

“It’s not a bullshit reason,” I mutter.

“Think I gave you plenty of reasons why it is, Anna.”

He has a point.

“You have a point, but I’ll point out I told you earlier today you had to be patient with me. My views on myself aren’t going to change overnight, Jake.” When he opens his mouth, likely to call bullshit, again, I go on. “But, this is the first time in years I’m thinking there’s something wrong with the way I’m, well, thinking.” I close my eyes and shake my head before looking back up at him. “Evan mentioned something about a shadow blocking out the light in my life; you’re the second person to mention one. I’ve seen the looks my family gives me when they think I’m not looking. I’ve never said anything, hell, I’ve purposely ignored the looks so I didn’t have to deal with them and what it might mean,” I admit, dropping my head. And when I feel the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my fingers,
I
know
. “I don’t want that shadow over me anymore, Jake. But I don’t know how to get rid of it,” I whisper, my heart banging around in my chest at the vulnerability I'm letting show.

His eyes search my face while he brings his hand up and slides his thumb along my cheek.

“You gotta let people help, sweetheart, but you gotta let them
in
to help,” he tells me, his voice gentle and quiet but strong. “You can’t shut yourself away and keep yourself separate anymore.” He brings his head down, leans closer, and rests his forehead against mine while he whispers against my lips. “Let me in, Anna. Let me help you get rid of the shadow.”

My hands clench in his shirt and my eyes close, heart pounding.

I could say no, shrug him off and that would be the end of it.

I could try to forget Jake. Try to forget everything we could possibly have and keep living my life in limbo.

Or, I could let him in.

I could have something great, something beautiful with him.

I have to make a choice and for the first time in a long time, I don’t want to make the easy one.

I don’t want the shadow hanging overhead. I want to live
my life in the light.

With Jake.

So, I make a choice.

I close the gap and answer with a kiss.

“Thank fuck,” he mutters against my lips.

I smile.

Once we’ve finished with the heaviness, Jake takes my hand and leads me over to one of my stools.

While he finishes unloading the food, I try my best not to drown in my wine. Even though food is probably the
last
thing on my mind I welcome the distraction and his taking care of me.

Mainly his taking care of me.

My mind is still trying to catch up with the last forty-five minutes. My heart, though, doesn't have the same problem.

That sucker is in overdrive with all that is Jake and what he’s proving to be.

Xavier had been all about him.

What I could do for
him.

What
he
needed from me.

What
he
wanted.

Richard had been all about his job and not making time for me but expecting me to be at his beck and call the minute he had time.

But Jake?

Jake is all about
us
and what we can give each other.

Well, at the moment it’s all about what he could do for me, but I have a sense that he gets something out of it in his own way.  

My eyes swing from the spot on the wall I’d been staring at while I spaced, to look at Jake, who is looking at me expectantly.

I have a feeling I missed something.

“Sorry, what?” I ask sheepishly.

His lips tip up. “Plates, babe. Don’t know where they are.”

Ah, yes.

I start to get up.

“I’ll grab them,” I offer, but one straightened leg and my booty an inch off the seat is as far as I get.

“I got ‘em, Anna. Just tell me where.”

I plop back down on my stool and point out the cupboard next to the sink.

“They’re in there, but could you grab me a bowl instead?”

He gives me a nod before moving to the cupboard where he pulls
two
bowls down. When he turns back, I give him a questioning look.

“Thought I’d see what the bowl’s about.”

I feel my lips twitch.

“Well, it’s not as messy when you’re trying to scoop rice up since you can bring the bowl closer. And it’s easier to mix everything together so you can get a little bit of each thing. Dad’s the one who turned us on to it. Nate and I followed but Robby stuck to using plates with Mom,” I tell him, probably boring him with that bit of family history, but he smiles in return.

“Smart,” he returns.

“That’s Dad for you,” I say with a smile of my own.

*              *              *

Dinner consumed, a bottle of wine, and four beers later, I’m blinking my eyes open to a wall of black.

After Jake had gotten the bowls, we both proceeded to spoon out our choices. A couple bites in, I realized he had nothing to drink and I was much too low on my wine. I rounded the bar and headed to the fridge, intent on getting him a beer, when I pulled my head out from behind the door and caught him pouring more wine into my glass, my heart (which had finally slowed down) did a little jump.

I always caught my dad, Robby, and even Evan’s dad pouring drinks for their women. It was so small, but it meant something. It was another way for them to watch after and take care of the woman they loved.

I used to swoon when I watched my dad do it for my mom and I knew someday I wanted to find a guy who’d do that for me.

Then again, I’d been about ten and I also wanted a hot pink convertible to match Barbie.

My fingers are still crossed for the convertible.

I tried not to let it show how much it affected me—meaning I hid my face in the fridge and acted like I was searching for a beer when really I’d been hiding the smile on my face.

While we ate we talked about the music we liked—both of us fans of seventies, eighties rock, and country (though, I liked to throw in some alternative, modern rock, and pop every once in awhile)—the movies we enjoyed (I shouldn’t have expected anything less than comedy, action, and more action from him) and things we liked to do when we weren’t working.

I wasn’t surprised to hear he spent a majority of his time with Rocco and Manny.

I was surprised to hear that most of the time was not spent watching games but out playing them.

He told me that during the summer they’d all joined a softball league and after the season was over they’d hit the park with a bunch of friends for football or head down to the courts for basketball.

Picturing Jake in baseball (or football) pants made my blood heat a little.

After we finished dinner and he helped me clean up, we both did refills and headed to my living room to relax.

I sat on one end of the big couch and was getting ready to pull a leg up under me when I found my hand in his. My head jerked back to look at him as he pulled me up and led me over to the loveseat where he sat me down before going back for the bottle of wine and taking a seat next to me.