Page 50 of The Other Half

The pain and confusion in her eyes threatened to pull me back under.

“Jake, I’m sorry. I thought—”

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Unable to look at her without pulling her back into my arms, I jumped up and hurried back to the house with Hank trailing behind me. I couldn’t turn around. I couldn’t look. It was too soon. It was all too soon.

Slamming the door to my house, I pressed back against the wall. Sadness, anger, and resentment collided inside me. Not only had Matt and Nikki stolen my happiness in the past, they’d stolen it in the future. Even while I held Cassie in my arms, I pictured her in Matt’s. Visions of her cheating on me, humiliating me, breaking me... they flooded my mind. I had nothing to give and everything to lose. The only thing I had left in this world was fear and loneliness. I was destroyed, and even my feelings for Cassie couldn’t put me back together again.

My lips still burned from his kiss. Heat radiated from the spot on my chin where his soft stubble had rubbed when our passion finally exploded. But it was my heart that burned the most from the sting of rejection. While I sat on the dock struggling to comprehend what had happened, I fought the tears stinging my eyes.

Did I do something wrong? Did I only imagine that he wanted to kiss me?

I could have sworn I saw it in his eyes. It was there. Desire. Yearning. And when our lips met, I felt it. You couldn’t make up the passion that crackled between us. It had been more intense than any kiss I’d ever had. But as quickly as it came, it disappeared. Just like the range of emotions I saw in him in our short time together, hot then cold, on then off, our kiss had mirrored our emotional dance.

I’m not ready. His words haunted me. Ready for me? Remembering now what he’d been through, what had happened to him, I closed my eyes. He was scared of getting hurt again. It had to be. The flames burning between us that I wanted to dance in? Those same flames terrified him.

Starting up the dock to pound on his door and demand he not run from the connection developing between us, I slowed to a stop. His great fear was being hurt again. And I wasn’t being honest with him. Hell, he didn’t even know my real name. His greatest fear... was me.

The shackles of my situation held me fast in place. I couldn’t reveal my identity... not yet at least. And I couldn’t continue lying to him, playing out his greatest fear. No. He was right to flee from me. Perhaps on some deep-down level he knew. He knew I was like Nikki. A liar.

The ground beneath me shook, or maybe it was my legs, but I knew as much as I wanted to barge in there and demand he not give up on us, I took off racing for my car. Hot tears burned down my face while I gave in to my situation and climbed behind the wheel.

Desperate to tell Jake my name and why I was here, I remembered the company and how much I wanted to make my grandpa proud... to pick up the reins where my father left off. Looking at the house, I swallowed down the last of my tears. No. This was my punishment, my purgatory. I couldn’t move forward. I couldn’t go back. All I could do was wait here until Grandpa decided I’d paid my penance. Proved my worth.

Maybe then I could tell Jake the truth. Force him to face the feelings between us I knew were real. But now... now I needed to give him space and keep my head down until I was back in the good graces of my grandpa. With one last look at his house, I turned the key and put the car in drive. A cloud of dust flew up behind me while I tore down the driveway and tried to get as far away from Jake Alton as I could... even though it was less than a mile. This was going to be torture.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Jake

The Fourth of July sun beat down on me while I finished cleaning up my boat. Grumbling, I hosed off the bloody remnants of my early morning charter trip I’d agreed to against my better judgement. Looking at the sea of people packed into Baileys Harbor for the parade, I regretted not charging double. Hazard pay. I hated crowds, and I really hated the annual Fourth of July parade in Baileys Harbor.

With the parade blocking off the routes, I’d had to park up the road on E and walk down this morning. Now the crowd stood between me and my truck and the peace and quiet of my home. Debating between sitting on my boat alone all day until they left or forging my way through them to get to my house, I grumbled again, hating both decisions.

Deciding on the latter, I slung my bag filled with fishing lures over my shoulder and headed into the crowd. Every time someone bumped me, I struggled to keep my snarls contained. Grumbling and snarling had been about all I could do since I’d left Cassie sitting on my dock two weeks ago. The memories of seeing her standing alone in my yard before running to her car were forever seared into my mind. I cringed at the memory, like I did every time, hoping when I closed my eyes tight it would miraculously fade away. But even in that split-second of darkness, her face remained. Like a ghost who haunted me, her presence stayed with me everywhere I went.

She was the first thing I thought of when I woke up. The last thing I thought of before I fell asleep. When I fished, all I could think about was holding her in my arms while we reeled one in. Eating was ruined because I just pictured her savoring those cheese curds. Drinking wasn’t helping. Not only was I avoiding the Ox like the plague, every time I was out at the Coyote Roadhouse or the Pub where I’d taken up refuge, the gossip featured the hot new bartender in town. Even my house wasn’t safe because I couldn’t look out in the yard without seeing her standing there. The kitchen, den... everywhere was haunted by the memory of Cassie and how poorly I’d behaved.

Sure, I was scared but leaving her sitting on the dock after inviting her to my home was unforgiveable. I wouldn’t be surprised if the next time I saw her she slapped me across the face. God knows my mother would if she’d seen what I’d done.

“Hell, yeah! You decided to join the party, Jake!” Aaron’s voice broke over the crowd while I pushed through.

Groaning, I turned to see him standing with a plastic cup of beer in one hand and a bratwurst in the other. “Hey, man.”

“I can’t believe you came to the Fourth of July parade! It’s about fucking time you got out of whatever new rut you’ve been lying in.”

“I’m not here for the party. I’m just getting back from a fishing trip and these people are standing between the dock and my truck.”

“So, we’re still in a rut?” He bit into his brat. “It’s like you’re starring in your own version of Groundhog’s Day. Except instead of Bill Murray, you’re Kevin Van Dam.”

“Nope. Just don’t want to be around all these people,” I lied. Although it wasn’t a rut I was in. It was a pit. A pit of despair. A deep, impossible to scale out of, pit of despair.

“Drink it.” He shoved the beer at me.

“No. I’m good.”

“Drink the beer, Jake. Drink it. It will help.”