The Bakery Sisters (60 page)

He ignored that, but didn't pull away when she continued to lean on him.

He felt perfect, she thought. Strong and capable. Someone she could count on. If only…

The real-estate agent glanced at her watch. “I have another appointment, so I need to run. If you want to look around a little more, just lock the door behind you when you leave. There are more condos, if you want to see them.”

Matt shook his head. “I've seen enough. Let me pick one this afternoon, then we can get together and fill out the paperwork.”

“Wonderful. You have my cell number. I'll be available anytime after four.”

She waved and left.

Jesse stepped back. “You're serious? You're going to buy one?”

“Probably this one. You're right. It has everything I need, so why not?”

“But you haven't wanted to make a decision.”

“I haven't wanted to make a change,” he corrected. “You were right about that, too. It's time for me to be on my own. I've taken the easy way out, staying with my mom. She isn't going to like me leaving, but she'll get over it.”

“Wow. Great. I think this one is the best of them, but it's your decision. Imagine the fun you'll have picking out new furniture.” She moved into the bedroom. It was big enough for one of those massive sleigh beds. With the fireplace in the corner and rich bedding, the room could be masculine
and
romantic.

“The dining room is beautiful, with that coved ceiling. And you can go crazy with your media room.”

She turned and saw him watching her. There was something about the look on his face, something she'd never seen before.

“Matt?”

“I don't think I realized it until just now,” he said slowly.

“Realized what?”

“That somewhere along the line I became more than a project to you. When did that change?”

She froze, unable to move, barely breathing. Here it was—the one thing she'd wanted to avoid. That moment of total humiliation. Because he wasn't some poor geek who needed her help anymore. He was masculine and capable and someone she was wildly attracted to. Emotionally, he could crush her like a bug.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” she said as she started backing out of the room. “Look. It's late and I should probably be going.”

Except they'd come in the same car. Damn. Now what?

“Jesse.”

The way he spoke her name made her shiver. “What?”

“You didn't answer my question.”

“I can't.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm scared.”

There it was. The truth. All of it, leaving her exposed. What if he laughed? What if, even worse, he said he appreciated her feelings but he thought it would be best if they were just friends. What if—

He crossed the space separating them, cupped her face in his large hands and kissed her. Just like that. Mouth on mouth. Lips pressing, touching.

It was a soft kiss, a gentle kiss, as if he was giving her a chance to get used to being close to him. She raised her arms, then lowered them to her sides. For the first time since she was maybe thirteen, she wasn't sure what to do back. How to respond. What would be right? What would be too much?

He tilted his head slightly, but didn't deepen the kiss. Seconds ticked by. She was aware of the pounding of her heart and the heat she felt inside. Heat and wanting and fear. Finally she couldn't stand it anymore and she pulled back.

“I can't,” she whispered. “I can't do this.”

“Why not?”

She turned her back on him and folded her arms across her chest. “Because I'm not what you think. I'm not anyone you want to be with.”

He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him. She let herself lean on him, just for now. In a second she would be strong again.

“You're exactly who I want to be with,” he told her. “You're smart and funny and kind. You're also sexy as hell.”

“You're just grateful because I helped you see your potential.”

“I'm a whole lot more than grateful.”

He moved her hair off her shoulder, then leaned in and kissed her neck. Immediately tingles rippled through her. He opened his mouth and licked the spot he'd kissed, then blew on her damp skin. He nipped her earlobe, making her jump. She half turned. He put his hands on her shoulders, bringing her all the way around until she faced him.

“You're so beautiful,” he murmured between kisses along her jaw. “That's what I remember from the first time we met. The sun in your hair, how your smile hit me in the gut. It was the best and worst moment of my life. Best because I met you and worst because of what you'd seen.”

“Matt, I never thought badly of you,” she said, barely able to speak. She was on fire, burning everywhere he touched and many places he didn't.

“I know. It was amazing to me. You saw beyond what I was on the outside. And every time I went out with someone else, all I could think about was that I would rather be with you.”

He kissed her then, hard and hot. She parted because she didn't have a choice, didn't want a choice. She welcomed him inside of her mouth, brushing her tongue with his, feeling her breasts swell.

Her nipples ached, as did that place between her legs. She gave herself up to the feeling of being close to him and wrapped her arms around him.

They pressed together everywhere. He was already hard, which thrilled her.

When he nudged her backward, she went willingly. They moved until she bumped into something. Then he picked her up and set her on the bathroom counter.

She parted her thighs and he moved between them. His hardness nestled against her. Then they were kissing again, his hands moving up and down her back.

She touched his shoulders, his chest. He was all muscle and far too much a gentleman. She grabbed his hands and put them on her breasts. His breath caught as he cupped her curves.

It would be so easy, she thought sadly. She knew the drill. She could slip off her jeans and panties. He could be in her in seconds. Here, in the empty house, they could be together. They could fuck. And then what?

Tears burned in her eyes. Regret choked her. She pushed him away, jumped to her feet and ran.

He caught her by the front door, grabbed her arm and held her in place.

“Why are you running away?” he demanded.

She did her best not to cry. “I can't talk about it. I'm sorry. Let me go.”

“Jess, no. Talk to me. Tell me what's going on.”

She forced herself to look at him. Maybe it was time to tell the truth. She could get it over with now. It would be like cutting off an arm. One quick slice and it would fall away. Then she could get used to being without him.

She pulled free and thought longingly of the door. Then she squared her shoulders. Time to sharpen the blade.

“You're right,” she said quietly. “You're a lot more than a project. I didn't mean for that to happen. I just wanted to make a difference, you know? To do something right. I saw you and you had so much going for you. Then we started hanging out and I realized you were even better than I thought.”

“You adore me and I like being adored. So where's the bad?”

Despite everything, she laughed. “It's not you, Matt. It's me. I'm not who you think.”

“You've said that before and it's not true. I know you.”

“No, you don't. You know who I've let you see, but that's not who I am. I've always been wild. My sister calls me a professional screwup and she's right. I started drinking when I was twelve. I got into drugs when I was thirteen. I got bored with both when I was fourteen, mostly because I discovered boys.”

She walked to the window because looking out at the trees was a whole lot easier than staring at him and watching the disappointment fill his eyes.

“I learned very quickly that putting out was an easy way to be popular. I also enjoyed the sex itself. Mostly to be close to someone, to feel like I mattered, even if it was just for a few minutes. I was the school slut all through high school. Nicole found out and put me on the Pill so I didn't get pregnant. I was lucky, because I never got any diseases. But there were guys, Matt. A lot of guys. There are some I don't even remember.” She swallowed. “Those guys who call? I sleep with them. All of them.”

She fought tears. “And then I met you and you were great and it was easy and suddenly there I was. Wanting more. Wanting to be different so you would want me. Like me. But so what? You can do a whole lot better than me. I'm completely drifting. I don't have any direction, I live with my sister, I can't seem to commit to my future. You don't need that. You need someone as focused and great as you are.”

There. She'd said it. All of it, or close.

“Are you done with the other guys?”

She bowed her head. “Yes. I don't want to be that person anymore. I want—a lot of other things.”

He walked toward her. She braced herself for the attack, but he only turned her toward him, then put his arms around her. She kept hers folded protectively across her chest, but he just held her closer.

“Don't you know none of that matters?”

She stared up at him. “You can't mean that.”

“Do I look as if I'm lying?”

He looked like a man who was very sure of himself. He looked like someone she could trust.

He touched her face again. “Jess, your past changes nothing. You're the one I want to be with because of who you are right now.”

He was making it too easy.

“I want to believe you,” she whispered.

“Then try. Give it time. I won't let you down.” His mouth twisted. “And I won't push you sexually. Even though I want to.”

She smiled. “If anyone should be holding back, it's me.”

“You don't scare me.”

How was that possible? “I mess up a lot. I destroy relationships that matter.”

“No, you don't.”

“Matt, you have to listen.”

“Jesse, do you want to go out with me? Do you want to be with me?”

“Yes.”

“Then be with me. The rest of it will work itself out. I can handle whatever you throw at me. Do you believe that?”

“I want to.” More than he knew.

“Then trust me. Just a little. I'm not going to let you down. I swear. No matter what. Just give me the chance to prove myself.”

She nodded because she didn't have a choice. Walking away was impossible to imagine. Maybe he was right. Maybe she could trust him. Wouldn't that be a miracle?

Present Day…

M
ATT REMEMBERED GROWING
up in small apartments. His mom's salary as a dental hygienist had only stretched so far. But while they'd struggled financially, he'd never much felt the lack. His mom had made simple moments seem special. She'd always found the money for what mattered…like the computers he'd taken apart, repaired and put back together when he was ten or eleven. Selling those had paid for the next he'd bought, along with the parts, but he'd never considered what she'd had to give up to buy the first broken computers.

He'd paid her back a thousand times over when he'd licensed his game modification. They'd moved out of their crappy apartment into the house in Woodinville. Money had never been a problem again. He'd been all of sixteen when he'd insisted on setting up a trust fund for her so she never had to work, if she didn't want to. The house had been bought with cash. He'd wanted to do that for her, because she was his only family. Because it was the right thing to do.

Now, as he stood in front of that house, he wondered if he had it to do all over again, would he be so generous? He wasn't sure. They'd barely spoken in the past five years. He had Diane send her a gift at Christmas and flowers on her birthday. He called on Mother's Day. Nothing more. Because he'd never forgiven her for telling him about Jesse and Drew.

No, not for telling him. He'd never forgiven her for being
happy
about the news.

But he had to deal with her now. He'd wanted to see Gabe again and the kid was staying in her house.

When Jesse had phoned and suggested he spend a little time with his son, he'd agreed. Not because he had any burning desire to get to know him, but because it furthered his plan. What he resented was the casual way she called the shots. Not for long, he told himself. Soon he would be in charge.

Reminding himself of that helped with the anger that continued to grow inside of him. He'd blown it at dinner, he knew that. And kissing Jesse had been a mistake. He'd found himself reacting, wanting her. After all this time, how was that possible?

He knew that instant passion had always been a part of his relationship with her. Apparently time hadn't changed that.

He moved up the walkway and rang the bell, ignoring the memories of living there. The door opened immediately, as if his mother had been waiting for him.

She stood in the entryway, staring at him with an expression that was equal parts hope and pain. She smiled, but there were tears in her eyes.

“Oh, Matthew,” she whispered. “I've missed you so much.”

The words surprised him, as did her air of vulnerability.

“Come in, come in,” she said, motioning for him to enter the house. “How are you? You look great. Gabe's very excited about your visit. He's been talking about it since he got up this morning. He's such a happy child. He wakes up excited about the new day.”

There was the sound of footsteps, then Gabe skidded around the corner, before coming to a stop and staring at Matt.

Matt stared back, not sure what to say or do. This was the part he hadn't thought through. Actually dealing with a child.

“Ah, good morning,” he said.

Gabe blinked.

Matt felt like an idiot, something he didn't appreciate and for which he blamed Jesse. Paula touched the boy's head.

“Your dad is going to spend the morning with us. That will be fun.” She smiled at Matt. “We made sugar cookies yesterday. I thought we could frost them this morning. Gabe's excited about that, aren't you?”

The boy had his eyes, Matt thought. “I like sugar cookies,” he said, not knowing what else to say. “Do you?”

The kid nodded. Hadn't Jesse said he was verbal? Shouldn't he be talking?

Paula ushered them into the kitchen. The room looked different. Matt guessed she'd remodeled sometime in the past five years. He wondered what else was different in her life.

“Here we go,” she said, pointing to the cookies she'd spread out on the kitchen table. There were pastry bags filled with colored icing. Paula eyed his suit jacket. “You might want to leave that in the other room and roll up your sleeves. This is going to get messy.”

Fifteen minutes later, he knew she wasn't kidding. What Gabe lacked in skill, he made up for in enthusiasm as he gushed icing all over the cookies, the table and himself. He grinned and laughed as the gooey frosting oozed everywhere.

Paula leaned over his shoulder. “Is that a dog? I think that's a dog.”

Gabe beamed. “Uh-huh. With spots.”

Matt stared at the mess of green and orange icing. How was that a dog? It wasn't close to anything. How had his mom figured it out?

Matt used the white icing bag to put stripes on a few of the cookies. He felt uncomfortable and out of place. Gabe kept looking at him, as if expecting something.

Paula handed the kid several round cookies. “We talked about putting numbers on these,” she said. “Gabe, why don't you start. You do the first number and your dad will do the second.”

“Okay.” Gabe grabbed a bag of purple icing and drew a fairly steady straight line. “That's a one.”

“Good for you,” Paula said, then looked at Matt. “Isn't that good?”

Matt nodded. “It's great,” he said, feeling stupid. Jesse had gone wild with the praise when the kid had tied his shoes. Evidently, that was the way to a child's heart.

“Now you do two,” Gabe said.

“Sure.” Matt squeezed out a two on a cookie.

Paula clapped her hands. “That's terrific. What's next, Gabe?”

“Three,” he said and bent over the cookie. He concentrated so hard, his face turned red. Slowly, a shaky three emerged.

They worked their way up to ten. When they'd finished, Paula looked at him. “Gabe knows his letters, as well, and he's learning to read.”

“Okay.” Matt didn't know if that was impressive or not. At what age did kids start reading?

Paula helped Gabe to the sink and rinsed off the icing. Matt did the same in the guest bathroom, all the time wondering what the hell he was doing here. Sure, he had to spend time with his son because that was part of the plan, but nothing about it felt right or comfortable. Maybe he just wasn't a kid person. That happened, right? He'd grown up without a father and he'd turned out fine. He'd—

As he dried his hands on a small towel, he unwillingly remembered a middle-school announcement about “Bring your dad to school” day. All the other kids had been talking about their dads, but he hadn't had anything to say. He sat there, his stomach hurting, feeling more out of place than usual. He'd never told his mother. What was the point? She wouldn't have been able to change anything.

But this kid thing was tough. Heath had been right to point out that if he won his lawsuit against Jesse, he was going to end up with a child. His son. There was no way he could handle that on his own.

When he walked back into the kitchen, Gabe was gone. Paula turned on him.

“Did you know Jesse was pregnant?” she demanded. “Did she tell you?”

“Where's Gabe?”

“Up in his room, figuring out which toys he wants to show you. Not that you'll even pretend to be interested. Did she tell you?”

He didn't know which attack to deal with first. “She mentioned she was, but I never thought the kid was mine. She'd been sleeping with—” Other guys. With Drew. Except she said she hadn't and Gabe was obviously his. “I never thought the baby was mine,” he repeated.

Paula glared at him. “How could you let her just walk away without finding out the truth? You were raised to take responsibility. What kind of man doesn't bother to find out if his girlfriend is carrying his child?”

Matt stared at his mother. “Where is this all coming from? Last I knew, you hated Jesse.”

“I made a mistake about that,” she told him, her eyes bright with anger. “Which isn't the point. Do you know what we both lost? What can never be recovered? Years, Matthew. Years of seeing your son, my grandson, growing up. Of being there when he was born. All the firsts are lost. All those precious moments and memories. It's gone because you couldn't be bothered to find out the truth.”

“Hey, wait a minute. You're the one who told me she was sleeping with someone else. And you were pretty happy about that fact.”

“I was wrong,” Paula said, looking him in the eye. “I was wrong about a lot of things and I've certainly paid for my mistakes. But I never knew Jesse was pregnant. If I had, I would have gone after her. I would have insisted she stay until we could confirm paternity. We're talking about your child, Matthew. Your son. Doesn't that mean anything to you?”

Before he could answer, Gabe ran back in the room carrying a large fire truck that was nearly as big as he was.

“Look!” he said, obviously proud and excited.

Matt looked at his mother, who glared at him. No help there.

“That's a really, ah, big truck.”

Gabe nodded. “It's my favorite. I can ride on it. Want to see?”

“Sure.”

Gabe set down the truck, straddled it, then pushed himself around with his feet. He headed into the family room.

“Go with him,” Paula said in a low, angry tone. “Do something.”

“I don't know what to do. I don't know him.”

“Whose fault is that?” she snapped.

“You could help.”

“I could, but I'm not going to. You created this problem, you fix it,” she said and turned away.

He followed Gabe into the family room where his son looked expectantly at him. Matt stood there, not sure what to do, furious at his mother and Jesse.

“Want to, ah, play a game?” Matt asked.

Gabe sighed heavily, then shook his head.

“Watch a movie?”

The boy rose and returned to the kitchen, where he ran straight to Paula, grabbed her around the legs and started to cry.

“I didn't do anything,” Matt said when she glared at him.

“I know. And that's the problem.” She stroked Gabe's hair. “Matthew, you have a lot to learn about children.”

Feeling angry and confused, not to mention dismissed, he stalked out of the house and slammed the front door behind him.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, he thought grimly, although he couldn't say how it was supposed to be.

 

J
ESSE STOOD ON THE
sidewalk of the strip mall, sucked in a breath, then entered the small Chinese restaurant. Matt was already there, at a booth against the side wall. He rose as she walked over.

“Thanks for coming,” he said.

She nodded and tried to smile, but there were too many emotions rushing through her for her to pick just one and go with it.

She wanted to tell him she was only here because Paula had said his meeting with Gabe had been a disaster, but the truth was more uncomfortable. She was here because she'd missed him.

Seeing him the other night, being with him, talking and then kissing him, had opened too many doors to the past. She'd been caught up in what they'd once had together. Worse, she'd been unable to shake the passion he'd stirred in her. Passion that had disturbed her sleep with vivid sexual dreams and left her restless and aroused.

When she was seated, he leaned toward her. “Did she tell you how badly my meeting with Gabe went?”

Jesse sighed. “Shouldn't we start with more neutral conversation? I could ask about your day. You could ask about mine.”

“If you'd like. How was your day?”

“Busy. The brownies are selling well, which is exciting for me, but I think it's pissing off Nicole.”

“You're still having trouble with her?”

“Trouble isn't the right word. She's distant and, I don't know, angry maybe. It's like we're strangers.”

“Give her time.”

“But I want it fixed now.”

He surprised her by smiling. “You were never big on patience.”

“I had more of it than you did.”

“Low blow.”

Now it was her turn to smile. “It was the only thing I beat you at.”

“Not true.”

“Oh, please. You were smarter. And successful.”

“You had a great sense of humor.”

“True.”

His eyes crinkled. “You're prettier than me.”

She wasn't sure she would agree, but she appreciated the compliment. “If you say so.”

“I do. You still wear your hair long. It looks great.”

She tried not to fidget. He'd always liked her long hair and because of that, she'd been unable to cut it. Which made her a fool, but there it was.