Twice in a Lifetime (Love Found) (30 page)

His phone rang and he let it. Ignored the voicemail notification as well. There was nobody he wanted to talk to. Allie hadn’t called in weeks. She slipped into his thoughts, though, uninvited—he was unable to keep her out. But face it, he didn’t want her out, didn’t turn her memory away once.

What was she doing tonight? Was she busy with her young orthodontist? Did she have someone new by now? An emptiness crushed his chest, heavy and familiar. Why did she stop calling? Could she tell how he felt? He hoped by staying away she would stop invading his every thought. He woke up thinking of her; left for work wondering if she was home, getting ready for school. At the end of the day he fell into bed exhausted, wishing she was there, to hold while he slept. It was a good thing work was so busy these past few weeks. But now he was tired.

His phone rang again. Out of habit he picked it up, checked the caller ID. His heart stuttered when her name came up.
Play it cool, Taylor
. “Hello?” A stab of anticipation ran straight to his gut.

“Jake?”

The one word nearly melted his resistance. “Yeah. Allie? How’ve you been?”

She answered after a short pause. “I’m good. Did… did I catch you in the middle of something?”

God, all he wanted was to be in the same room with her. “Not really. Why?”

“You sound funny. And you haven’t called.” She paused again, then blurted out, “I miss you.”

Jake slid his eyes shut and bit back a groan. “What’s to miss? You must have plenty of guys around.” And how petulant did
that
sound?

Her chuckle rumbled softly in his ear. “Nah, don’t be silly.

Really? He wanted to dance at the thought—like Gene Kelly, posed dramatically with an umbrella in one outstretched hand, his fedora in the other while raindrops slicked over him.
Defenses firmly in place, big boy
. He relaxed against the cushion again, took up his beer. “That’s too bad. So what
have
you been up to, besides not dating?”

“Same old, same old. The kids at school, the library. I had a committee meeting last night. And I got a pedicure with Maddie and the girls last Saturday.”

He liked her toes painted a startling pink, shuffling on his dashboard. A reluctant smile tugged on his lips.

“Oh, and I cut my hair.”

He bolted upright in his chair. “You did what!?”

“Well,
I
didn’t do it. I went to a salon.”

She sounded amused now, her mischievous grin came across loud and clear. His resistance tumbled, crumbled into a pile of useless rubble.

“It was an impulse. I thought I’d try something new. You’ll like it, I promise.”

Yeah, sure. “I can hardly wait.” Some of his greatest fantasies involved his hands and her hair and she’d just shot them all to hell.

“Oh stop pouting. What is it with men and long hair anyway?”

Not in a million years could he tell her what was with
this man
and
her
long hair, so he said nothing—simply sulked wordlessly.

“Anyway, you sound tired.”

He shivered, the chill breeze seeping through his thin T-shirt, causing goosebumps. “I am tired. The job in Cottonwood has been kicking our asses—mine
and
Nick’s. Too many road trips, too much diner food, too little sleep. I’m sitting by the pool, dozing. I’m glad you called.”

Her hesitation was imperceptible, nothing more than a faint hitch in the conversation. “What does your day look like tomorrow? Will you be in town?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m planning to sleep in, catch up around the house. I have a dentist’s appointment late in the morning, so it will be after lunch before I get to the office. I was going to hang out tomorrow night, probably order a pizza. You want to come eat pizza with me?” Where did this feeling come from—like he was jumping out of an airplane without a parachute?

Her chuckle warmed him instantly. “It sounds great, but I have something funner.”

“Funner, huh? How could it possibly be better than pizza and the tube?” God, he missed teasing her.

“How about a concert at Airways? Maddie’s girls are sick, so I bought their tickets.” It’s a country band, but they’re pretty good seats. What do you think?”

That free-falling feeling swamped him again. He hadn’t seen her in nearly three weeks, but that wasn’t near enough time to get her out of his head.

“Sounds perfect. What time does it start?”

“The concert’s at eight.”

“I’ll pick you up at six. We can grab dinner downtown, somewhere near the arena.”

She agreed so quickly his pulse leapt.

He would see Allie again. His heart sang. He missed her fiercely. Tomorrow could not come fast enough.

Waking Friday was a painful venture, his chest full of lead as it was. He’d dreamed of her again, dreamed of kissing. Dreamed of a lover with short, curly hair and slim shoulders shrouded in fairy dust. Oh, shit, did he agree to a date?

Not a date
; the little voice was reassuring. Just food and a little music. But dread hung heavy—like knowing he was on his way to the gallows where he would be hung by the neck until dead. Or perhaps he would face a firing squad. Okay, yeah. At least that was quicker.

He grappled with alarm that threatened to overwhelm him. How would he make it? A tangle of anticipation and terror twisted through his mind and knotted his midsection. He would never survive.

The house was already presentable—the cleaning lady came on Wednesdays. He threw a load of jeans into the washer and went to the garage to drag out the lawnmower. The palm trees towering over the front yard swayed, rustled in the breeze. The autumn day was sunny with a bracing nip, the type of day he usually relished. But today there was little enjoyment; he was a man on the way to his demise.

When he finished the grass he shoved the mower back in the garage and then his laundry into the dryer on his way through to the backyard. There he sprayed off the patio, then rolled up the hose, skimmed fallen leaves from the surface of the pool and trudged through the house to shower.

Heat and steam cascaded over his body, easing muscles achy from physical labor, almost relaxing him. He let his mind ease as well, and listened to his saner self. Spending time with Allie was not torture. He enjoyed her, for chrissake. He
wanted
to be with her. He would just remember to play it cool.

A new voice spoke to him, made him pause as he lathered his hair. What if he didn’t have to play it cool? What if he could make this work? Allie missed him too; he could hear it in her voice, in her words. Was it possible he was overlooking something? These thoughts all warred with his feeling of imminent doom as he dressed for the day.

He ran his tongue over the slickness of his teeth as he left the hygienist’s chair and was led in the direction of the examination room. He reclined on the exam chair while the assistant covered him with a lead blanket, then shoved x-ray slides into his mouth while he concentrated on not gagging up his breakfast. That bit of pleasantness behind him, he relaxed, waited for the dentist to tell him he was cavity-free and excused to get to work.

“A root canal? You’ve got to be kidding!” Bloody hell, wasn’t that the way his world spun lately? Still muttering, something about the dentist having to pay for the silver Ferrari sitting in the parking lot, he made the needed follow-up appointments and left the building.

Whirling hope lobbied with sweeping despair all morning. He was up and down like the see-saw Allie’s kids liked to play on at recess. He needed to rein in his thoughts, restore order to their chaotic flight. Anguish still hovered in the background, but optimism was straining to take control.

Jake pulled his truck out of the medical complex parking lot, swung toward his office. Driving down the boulevard, he came to the onramp and made a quick detour, something strong inside him urging him in this direction. Arriving at his destination, he pulled over, sat for a few moments, staring through the windshield as the idling engine vibrated through the cab of his truck. Shutting down the engine, he kicked through dull fallen leaves, stopping beneath the dubious shade of a venerable jacaranda.

This needed to be done.

Jake reached out, palmed the cool granite headstone. His eyes darted, following the murmur of a nearby voice. An older gentleman stood at a plot several rows across, fresh flowers lying on the ground before him.

His gaze swung back, the memory of a warm, soft hand attached to an IV machine replacing the cool, solid granite beneath his unsteady palm. He let his heart have its say. “Hey Tate, I made you a promise years ago, but I don’t know how to do it anymore.” No preamble; cut straight to the chase.

Once said, the words opened a floodgate of emotion. Did a promise made before his world turned upside down still hold weight? He had to be honest with himself—it did. Ben screwed things up, but Jake couldn’t discount a life-long friendship. Then again, didn’t he owe himself? He withdrew his hand, his footsteps hesitant as he paced across dormant Bermuda grass.

He allowed his rambled, nearly disjointed thoughts to spill at random. “What do I do? Do I tell her? Is there room for me in her life?”

Back and forth he trod beneath the thin-leafed, blooming canopy, blossoms drifting like lavender snowflakes, scattering at his feet. “I don’t know how… how
did
you sense that I love her?” He’d guarded that secret for so long. He punted a fallen twig. “She still hasn’t figured it out.”

He paused with his breathing labored, keeping time with the beat of his heart. “I can’t let her go.” He stopped pacing, then resumed, shuffling through the floral carpet swirling in a sudden eddy. “No one else will love her better than I will. But can I love her
and
keep my promise to you?” He drew to a stop. This was the crux of his dilemma.

Nobody could care for her and Trey better than he could. The knowledge came from the depth of his soul. But he needed absolution to move forward. He had to swallow hard, twice, before he could turn, face his friend with his heart thudding and his fists clenched, dragging out words from earlier days, happier times.

“I hope you don’t mind buddy, but I’ve got to call in a favor.”

He collapsed onto the stone bench he’d sat on so many times before, his chin tucked against his chest. With his eyes open, he allowed his thoughts to turn to Ben, to the past. There was a lifetime spent playing together as children, on the swingset and then on the baseball diamond. On the gridiron in high school, pretending not to watch the cheerleaders on the sideline. As roommates in college, when fate, that fickle bitch, brought Allie to one of them instead of the other.

As he sat lost in thought his eyes scanned the blossoms that lined the lane and at the blooming oleanders dotting the lawn, searching for the source of the trilling that tickled his ears. From high on the left it flew in—a bluebird, singing merrily as it landed on Ben’s gravestone.

And the song was like a benediction.

He pulled into her driveway right on time. Strode past her bed of vibrant petunias and rang the doorbell, heart drumming like a teenager on his first date. But this wasn’t a date, was it? This was Allie, who happened to have an extra ticket. But
what if
?

The thought would not rest.

She pulled open the door and he stood, breathless, wanting to be nowhere more than exactly where he was.

“Jake!” She pitched forward and his arms were instantly full of her. Silver hoops flashed through a sleek bob as she canted back, grinned, then squeezed him tight again. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

He tightened his hold, had sorely underestimated how much he missed the feel of her tucked beneath his chin, his arms doubled around her.

She wiggled out of his embrace and broke into a full-throated laugh. “It’s not good for friends to stay away so long.”

Friends?
After that greeting?
God, he hoped not. She disappeared into the kitchen, returned with her navy pea coat and her purse slung over her arm.

“Ready.”

His mind held a vivid image of him picking his tongue up off the porch and slapping it over his shoulder. Of their own volition his eyes dragged upwards, starting with brightly painted toes peeping through sparkly silver shoes, raked their way over luscious curves tucked into fuck-me jeans and white tuxedo pleats and landed on…

Hair. Not like his new fantasy, but better still. Smooth and silky and sexy as all hell—her auburn curls were gone, replaced with a highlighted fall that swung across her shoulders with the motion of her head. Her hair never did that before. His fingers tingled as he quickly conjured a whole new set of fantasies.

To defend himself—and her—he grabbed her hand, herded her to his car. “You were right—I do like your hair.” The finger that waggled in that direction drew her laughter. He pulled her close, closed his eyes and pressed his lips to her forehead. His voice was husky when he spoke. “I missed you. I’m glad we’re doing this.” He released her, helped her into the low-slung seat, then darted around the hood of his cherry red sports car and settled into the driver’s seat. He reached down to turn the key and the powerful engine roared to life.