The Summer of Jake (17 page)

“Jake, I…” But I didn’t know what I meant.

“I know,” he said on a ragged breath. Then he guided himself until his tip nudged me. I wrapped my other leg around his waist, urging him on. In one smooth motion, he slid inside me, groaning and taking my breath away. My body was a mass of sensations, and all I managed to think was that this was
my
Jake. He withdrew then thrust again, and I called out his name and heard it echo over the water. His jaw clenched tight as he moved inside me a third time. Every nerve cell in my body was alive and wanting more, every inch of my skin burning for him.

I arched my hips, moving with him, and together we moved hungrily, creating a rhythm that kept me shimmering on the edge of something so powerful, I didn’t know if I’d be able to handle it when it came. His hand snaked down to the point our bodies joined, and he stroked me the way his tongue had done, making the need inside me coil even tighter.

I watched his face in the moonlight, his concentration broken as I laid a hand on his cheek, and the raw need in his eyes sent me over the edge, my body imploding in a pleasure-storm of sensation. A few thrusts later, I felt the tension in his body, his muscles freeze, and I pulled him closer as he followed me.

Minutes—maybe hours—later, I lay still shuddering, looking at Jake beside me, his skin glistening in the dim light, and I felt like crying. I should be happy. Pleased that I’d been given what I’d asked for. More—it had been the most explosive experience of my life.

Instead, I felt hollow. Because I wanted him again. And again. And again.

Blinking back emotion, I sat up and reached for my clothes. I’d known it’d been a risk. That making love with Jake would put me further under his spell.

“Annalise—”

I didn’t turn to him, just kept buttoning my blouse. “Remember the rules we agreed to.” I wriggled into my skirt, still not looking at him. “No regrets. We never mention this again. We act like nothing’s happened afterwards and forever.”

There were no sounds of movement behind me. Why wouldn’t he just get dressed?

“Actually, I didn’t agree to those—”

“Jake.” The pleading tone in my voice worked. He stopped. I slipped my arms into my blouse but kept my back to him, knowing his glorious body would still be on display and would make me forget everything I’d decided. “Promise me.”

“Okay, I promise.” But his voice sounded reluctant.

“Thank you. Please take me back to my car.”

…

At the next dinner at my parents’, I was picking at the pumpkin and pine nut salad, trying to be as inconspicuous as an only child can be on a visit to her parents’ house. I’d thought about canceling—right now was the worst time ever to be grilled about my love life—but that would only be delaying the inevitable.

Besides, I’d been thinking about what Dad had said in our phone call, that their arrangement worked for them, and I was curious. So, I’d spent the time so far watching them, especially their interactions with each other, and I’d seen something that I’d never noticed before. Their marriage really did suit them.

There was an elegance to the way they related to each other. My mother passed the cracked pepper to my father before he asked for it. My father refilled my mother’s wine glass after she’d had the last sip. It was all so smooth and graceful that I’d never noticed before.

“This relationship really does work for you two, doesn’t it?” I said before I could think better of it.

My parents froze and glanced at each other.

“I’m sorry,” I said, wincing. I’d ruined things again. They had their subtle dance worked out, and I’d blundered in and shone an unwelcome light on it. “Forget I said anything. You know, I really like this dressing. What did you say you put in it?”

My dad patted Mum’s hand, and she took a breath and turned to me. “Annalise, your father told me about your phone call.”

I choked on a pine nut, and Dad jumped up to pat me on the back.

“Okay?” he asked when I stopped coughing.

I nodded and reached for my water glass. He might have averted my death by salad, but I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be okay enough to face this conversation with my mother.

“I want you to be happy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Her face looked pained, and Dad took her hand in both of his. She nodded at him before smiling tentatively at me. “It’s entirely possible I may have pushed you toward goals that I believed would make you happy but weren’t the things that truly suited you.”

She took a sip of her wine, and I realized something for the first time. If it had been hard having parents so different from me, it must have been equally difficult for them to raise a child that seemed alien to them on some levels.

I got up, stood behind her chair, and hugged her. As Dad wiped at his eyes, Mum gripped my arms around her shoulders.

“I love you, Mum,” I whispered.

“I love you, too, Annalise,” she said, her voice thick. “More than anything.”

I left soon after because the intensity had become a bit much, but I was smiling as I drove away from their house.

…

I looked in the window and braced myself. I’d never been in one of Jake’s stores before. It was an old defense mechanism—as a teenager, to hide my crush, I’d been extra cautious about any “stalker” behavior. He’d had plenty of groupies to fill that role, and I’d had no intention of joining their ranks.

Of course, it was different now. I was an adult and had something of a relationship with him—had even slept with him.

Well,
actually
, that was probably
more
of a reason to avoid stalker-like behavior than the crush…

Although, to be logical, loitering in front of his store wouldn’t be the best tactic in avoiding the stalker label. “Oh, to hell with it,” I muttered and walked in the door.

I saw my designs immediately. They were part of a major display just inside the doors. Several mannequins were wearing the different colors, and piles of each design were stacked on tables according to color and size.

Picking up a blue dress, I held it against myself, marveling at seeing so many dresses of my design. It was my dream. I’d only ever seen one or two of the same design made up before, and this…this looked professional.

“May I help you?”

I turned to the sales assistant, hoping my grin didn’t look too goofy. “No, thanks. I’m just looking.”

The woman smiled and picked up another blue dress. “You’re looking at a great item. These dresses feel wonderful on—I’ve bought two for myself. They’re great over swimsuits on the beach or by the pool, and they don’t crush, so you can throw them down on your towel while you’re swimming and they’ll be ready when you’re dry. Why don’t you try one on?”

A jumbo-sized internal buzz had launched throughout my body during the sales pitch. It felt fabulous to hear someone else singing the praises of my design. “Thanks, but I—”

“Annalise, is that you?” I turned to see Tracey weaving through clothes racks towards me, her black waves bouncing around her shoulders.

“Tracey, I didn’t expect to see you here.” I flashed her a big buzzy-smile.

“Oh, I drop in and see how things are fairly often. I see you found your designs.”

“
Your
designs?” The sales assistant looked surprised but eager. “Did you really design this dress? Because I honestly do love it; that wasn’t just sales talk.”

“And this shorts and top set.” Tracey pointed to another pile of clothes.

“Really? They’ve both been selling so well.”

I wanted to jump up and down and shout
they’re mine
but managed to curb the impulse and reply, “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Yes,” Tracey said, “I’ve had to re-order most of the colors for all the shops already, and sales aren’t slowing down.”

“I think they’re increasing from word of mouth.” The sales assistant turned to Tracey. “Will we be stocking more of her designs?”

“Well,” Tracey said, “I’ve mentioned it to Jake, and he said he was going to talk to you about it, Annalise. Has he?”

“Um, no, but—”

“I think he’s up in his office—I’ll just go and get him. Don’t go anywhere.” Tracey took off out the door before I could stop her.

The internal buzz morphed into jumbo-sized butterflies. Even after all these years and everything that had happened, I still felt like an awkward teenager, waiting at his work to get his attention. This was really the crush that ate my life.

The sales assistant chatted away about the merits of the shorts set until customers needed her attention, then I wandered around the shop, stopping to touch the fabric of clothes that caught my eye, holding others up to see how the cut fell. And all the time I faced the door, allowing myself a few seconds forewarning of Tracey’s return. With Jake.

I saw him a moment before he walked through the door, and I could have sworn he was looking for me even though he appeared to be in conversation with Tracey.

I tried to appear absorbed in the bikini I was holding, looking up at them only as they stopped beside me.

“Hello, Annalise.” I felt his voice travel through my body. “That bikini would look great on you. Try it on. If you like it, consider it a present to keep on the good side of our new star designer.”

“No, thank you, I don’t need a new one.”

“Not to keep in your car for impromptu swims?” His voice was light and teasing.

Was that the relationship we had now? We hadn’t had a conversation since the mind-blowing sex on his boat, so this encounter was laden with the purpose of establishing new ground rules.

“By the way,” he said. “Did you find the flower information for your father?”

“Um, no.”

“I did a little investigating, and I’d recommend a combination of begonia and pine. Begonia means ‘beware’ and pine means ‘boldness’. That was the intent of the message wasn’t it? Although, as it was targeted at me, you might want to throw in a scarlet geranium for ‘stupidity’.”

I could feel my mouth was open but couldn’t think of a single thing for it to say. The butterflies were getting annoyed. In fact, I was getting annoyed. I was sick and tired of these stupid games we’d been playing.

Though I knew we’d never recapture the friendship we’d once had. Strange how quickly his friendship had become important in my life. And how thoroughly I’d destroyed it by wanting more.

And now I felt the loss of that friendship as keenly as anything else in this situation.

Tracey’s vivid green eyes had been swaying back and forth, as if trying to comprehend the undertones of the conversation. Then, shrugging, she said, “Annalise, Jake and I were just talking about commissioning designs from you for next year’s seasons. I usually have our collections planned in advance, so we could talk about several seasons at once. What do you think?”

“That’d be fabulous.” I looked back at Jake, my annoyance now tempered by gratitude. “Thank you again for taking a chance on me.”

He gave a half smile. “I think it’s you who takes chances, not me. Anyway, I’ll leave you and Tracey to talk about details. I need to go out.” He turned abruptly and left, leaving my annoyed butterflies to morph once again, this time into jumbo-sized angry bees.

One bee for fate for putting me in this crush-love-Jake drama. One for Jake, for not fixing the whole mess when he’d had the chance. One for me, for letting the mess get this big. One for—

I looked up as Tracey called out an unwelcome name.

“Hi Tracey,” Scarlett called back as she weaved towards us. “And Annalise! How lovely.”

Oh, yes. And one great big jumbo-sized angry bee for blond Scarlett.

Chapter Sixteen

Annalise

“You two know each other?” Tracey asked, looking from me to Scarlett.

Scarlett smiled at me. “Annalise dated my brother for a couple of years.”

I bared my teeth in a smile back.

“That’s great,” Tracey said. “Would you mind then if I leave you for a couple of minutes while I take a call I’m expecting? Annalise, maybe you could come up to my office when you’re finished?”

“Sure,” I answered and watched Tracey’s departing back to the soundtrack of a hundred buzzing bees. Fate was finally working for me, providing a deserving target for my anger, and who was I to ignore fate?

“So, Scarlett, did you tell Thomas I said hello?”

“Not yet, he’s—”

I narrowed my eyes. “I just bet you didn’t. Did you even tell him you saw me?”

“No, as I was—”

“Of course not.”

Scarlett cocked her head to one side. “Annalise, are you annoyed at me about something?”

“Oh, I don’t think annoyed is the right word.” The bees backed me up with buzzing in double time.

She crossed her arms and looked me in the eye. “Look, if you have something to say, just come out and say it.”

“Okay, I will.” I straightened a little. “You told Thomas,
my boyfriend
, he could do better than me. Don’t you think that would annoy someone just a little?”

Scarlett frowned and shook her head. “I wouldn’t say something like… Ahhh.” She took an almost imperceptible step backwards.

“
Ahhh?
What’s
ahhh
supposed to mean?” The bees collected in formation, stingers at the ready.

She grimaced, looking meeker than I’d ever seen her. “I can see why you’d take offense, but—”

I put a hand up to deflect her words. “Very big of you, but you have no idea the impact of that little remark—”

“Annalise—”

“How could you be so mean? I thought we got along well—”

“We did get—”

“I’d even considered you a friend, but the whole time you were acting—”

“No—”

The bees and I were on a roll. “An award-winning performance, I must say, while behind my back, you were telling Thomas he could do better than me—”

“Annalise!” Scarlett raised her voice.

I stopped, and a few customers turned to watch.

“I did
not
say that…exactly.”

I planted my hands on my hips, foot tapping, ready for whatever lame excuse she was cooking up. “Well, what did you say
exactly
?”

Scarlett closed her eyes for a moment as she rubbed a hand over her forehead. “Thomas loved you. Head-over-heels, wanting-weddings-and-babies love. But you didn’t feel that way about him, did you?”

I hesitated, guilt trickling into my stomach as I saw where this might be headed. “Well, no, but—”

“Right. I could tell. And Thomas asked for advice not long before you broke up. He’d seen you ogling some guy at a party or a wedding or something—”

“A wedding,” I said in a faint voice.

“And he was just starting to figure out that he felt more for you than you felt for him. I agreed and told him I thought he could do better than someone who didn’t really love him.”

The bees deserted their post. I’d blamed Thomas a little, and Scarlett a lot, but it’d been completely my fault. How had I kept myself blind to this?

“It was nothing personal.” Scarlett looked genuinely regretful. “I liked you, but he’s my brother, and he asked.”

“That’s fair enough.” Damn, those bees left a bummer of an after burn.

“I’m sorry if you were hurt, Annalise. That was never my intention.”

I felt my shoulders slouch forward a little. “No, I’m sorry, Scarlett.” I shook my head at my tunnel vision. “You know, I never questioned it—I just put you in a box with an unflattering label. But Thomas told me when I was breaking up with him, so I probably should’ve taken it with a grain of salt. Tried to understand.”

“No harm done.”

But there was really. “Is he happy now?”

She smiled, her affection for her brother shining. “He’s doing fine. He’s had a couple of girlfriends since you, but we’re really hoping this latest one is ‘the one’.”

I pictured Thomas with his ready laugh and good heart. I hoped he found love, too. He deserved that. “Can you tell him I said hi? And tell him”—I looked down at the bikini still in my hands before meeting Scarlett’s eyes again—“tell him I wish him happiness.”

…

Jake

I sat on the sand, looking out at the waves, trying to stem the emotional tide rising inside.

I’d meant what I’d said back in the shop—Annalise had taken a chance on love, and I hadn’t.

There was no doubt in my mind I loved her, but she’d been right that night in my mother’s garden. I was a coward. I flinched at the thought. It wasn’t something I wanted to be, but there it was.

I’d promised Kelly in my office I’d work out these inner demons, yet I hadn’t done a thing. Another example of cowardice.

Part of me had hoped everything would go away or settle down if I ignored it, but it hadn’t. Every time I saw Annalise, my feelings for her seemed stronger—the need to be with her, to make love to her, to laugh with her. For everything.

Jumping up, I headed for the water’s edge. I’d had no idea I could miss someone this much. It was worse having just seen her and being reminded of how amazing she was.

But it wasn’t just her—I liked
myself
more when I was around her. She knew the real Jake and accepted him—
loved
him—so I didn’t have to pretend or try to be something I wasn’t when I was with her. Not that it was all plain sailing. Nope, Annalise challenged me like no one ever had. And I liked that. Without judging, she pushed me to be the best I could be.

I kicked roughly at the sand. The truth was, I was a better person when I was with her.

The swirl of turmoil inside me intensified. The feelings in my gut that had simmered away, often unnoticed, since childhood were no longer prepared to be ignored. If I didn’t do something about them soon, Annalise would be the least of my worries—I’d go insane.

I was usually good at pushing them back down when they reared up to prod me, but it had been getting harder with Annalise forcing me to face myself. And now those churning emotions were stronger than ever—as if they were about to engulf me.

Quickly, I turned and walked back to my car. I had to do something. Now.

…

“Mum? Are you home?” Her car was in the drive, but she sometimes wandered down to the beach.

“I’m out in the back,” a voice called out.

Fighting the instinct to turn and run, I walked around the side of the house to the gardens, where I found my mother tending to her wilderness patch. I needed to do this. I had to face it or I’d never be able to look at myself in the mirror again.

Yet, being in the garden where Annalise had accused me of being a coward, the churning inside me was becoming close to unbearable. It was going to take all my self-control and courage to follow through on this conversation.

“Hello, Jake. What a lovely surprise.” She stood and dusted off her knees. “Are you here long enough for me to put a pot of coffee on?”

“If you’ve got time, that’d be good.” I kissed her cheek and followed her back to the house as she took off her gloves and pointed out new plants scattered throughout the garden.

I was happy for her to chatter away, because it gave me more time to get it together. Sweaty palms and fidgeting fingers weren’t how I wanted to go into this conversation.

As we entered the kitchen, she turned, giving me a smile. “You put the coffee on, and I’ll wash up a bit.” She disappeared, and I busied myself by filling the pot with coffee and water.

She emerged a few minutes later looking refreshed. “I can smell that coffee already. I’ve got cookies in the tin, if you want some.” I moved away to allow her access to her cupboards and avoided her eyes. I wanted to do this, but why did it have to be so damn hard?

When the coffee was made, we sat outside at a table and chairs.

“I get the feeling this isn’t a social call.” She looked at me appraisingly.

“No.”

“Is there something you want to tell me?” She smiled encouragingly, but there was concern in her eyes.

I took a deep breath, fighting down the heart-pounding anxiety that was filling my body from head to feet. “No, there’s something I need to ask you.”

“All right.” She put her cup down and gave me her full attention.

“Was Dad a lost cause, or was there something he could have done about himself?” I kept watching a point on the ground I’d found. If I focused all my energy on that point, I might be able to keep myself together.

She paused, then, when she spoke, her tone was wary. “Why would you ask that, honey?”

“I just need to know.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw her look out over her gardens, as if drawing strength from them. “When I married your father, he was already on the path that destroyed him, but I hadn’t known. I’ve often wondered over the years if I could’ve done things differently. If I’d recognized the signs, what would I have done?”

She shifted in her seat and sighed. “One of the biggest regrets of my life is allowing him to influence you and Kelly. More so you, because you were older.” She took a sip of her coffee and set the cup back on the table. “But I don’t know if I could have done anything differently for him. Maybe I could, but I don’t know what.”

“But what about him? What could he have done to change himself?” I was still staring at the spot, the turmoil inside threatening to overtake me more with every word my mother said.

“I don’t know the answer to that, either. Maybe he could have tried harder? Who knows?”

I bit down on my lip and pressed my palms together, trying in vain not to be engulfed by the black cloud that was looming around me.
Tried harder?
I had already been trying hard all my life not to be like him, but it hadn’t helped. If that was all there was, then it was too late for me.

“Jake, you know none of it was your fault, don’t you? Whatever went on in his life or in our marriage, you weren’t to blame for anything.”

“I know,” I said hoarsely.

She rose and moved around to kneel in front of me, but I didn’t look at her, trying to avoid seeing her face in case I lost it. “What is it? What are you worried about?”

I took two ragged breaths before I could answer. “I know I’m just like him, and I was hoping you’d tell me what I could do to change, but…” The devastation of knowing I was beyond help finally made me lose it, and my eyes stung with tears I wouldn’t let fall.

She reached out and put her arms around me. I barely noticed.

“Oh, Jake, that’s not true, you’re nothing like your father.” But her voice was faint now; the blackness had consumed me. A tear tracked down my cheek, followed by another. Years of pent up fears and emotions were finally being released. I tried to fight it, but it was a losing battle, so I covered my face with a hand.

My mother stayed there kneeling in front of me, holding me until my shaking eased. Then she moved my hand and lifted my face until she could see my eyes.

“Jake, listen to me, you are nothing like your father.” Her every feature emanated gentle compassion.

I gave a humorless smile. “You’re the only one who thinks so. But thanks for trying.”

“Who thinks you are?” She spoke with a firm gentleness.

“The media mentions it a lot. And people always told me when I was a kid that I was like him.” I wiped my face first on one shoulder then the other.

“Oh, Jake, we meant you looked like him. And you do a bit, but you’re much more handsome because you take after me, as well.” She grinned.

I tried to smile to show her I appreciated the attempt to lighten the mood, but I failed.

“Who else thinks you’re like him?”

“Donna.”

“Donna?” She frowned and paused before making the connection. “That girl you dated years ago?”

“Yep.” I couldn’t see the spot on the ground anymore with my mother in front of me, so I focused on a dirt smudge on her shoulder.

“She didn’t even know your father, so how would she know?”

“It was what she said. She didn’t mention Dad.”

“Tell me what she said.”

There was no point holding back now. I took a shuddering breath. “She said I had no emotional depth and I wasn’t capable of a long-term commitment.”

She shook her head. “Do you think a man who is able to cry in front of his mother—even if it’s the first time since he was eleven—has no emotional depth? Honey, you have as much as me or Kelly. Actually, I think you have more than Kelly because her emotions are all out on display. You have layers. Neither is better than the other, but don’t for a second think you have no depth.”

I looked into her eyes. She’d leaned back onto her haunches, and her hands had moved down to cover mine. For the first time, I felt a faint flicker of hope.

“Now, as for whether you’re capable of a long-term commitment, of course you are. If Kelly didn’t think you were, do you think she’d even
consider
naming you godparent and guardian to her baby? No mother would want to leave her baby with a person who couldn’t commit. That girl Donna didn’t know the real you.”

“But she did. We were in love.”

“A girl who knew you for less than a year when you were young knows you better than your sister? Or your mother?”

That did make sense, but it didn’t seem enough. I could still feel some of the blackness lingering. It couldn’t be that simple. This issue had been haunting me as long as I could remember.

“Who else?” When I didn’t answer, she persisted. “Who else thinks you’re like him?”

“I do.” I squinted intently at the dirt smudge on her shoulder.

“Jake, I knew your father better than you did, and I know you pretty well, too. I can honestly say you are not like him. There are some things you have in common, like your sense of humor and love of the water. But your father was an alcoholic. And maybe we’ll never understand why, but
he
made the choices to treat us the way he did. You don’t have that weakness, or that illness.”