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In that moment, he knew he was tired of running, tired of being so slow to change and grow. Despite all evidence to the contrary, he felt a fillip of hope that something new might be close at hand. He was ready to reach for happiness. But he still wasn’t sure he could handle it or how to get there.
Maybe it was too late...
Though Jake appreciated his mother’s support, his intentions were all over the map. Maybe Falling Brook wasn’t as bad as he remembered. After all, the town had been nothing more than an excuse, a convenient bogeyman.
He’d had no contact at all with Nikki. He couldn’t bring himself to text her. What would he say? Her words still rang in his ears. You destroyed us, Jake. Not your dad.
Apparently, Nikki Reardon was not as forgiving as Eve Lowell. Mothers always made excuses for their misbehaving sons. Lovers simply walked away.
Though, in all fairness, Jake had been the one to leave. He’d given up the wild, glorious uncertainty of Nikki’s bed for the cold comfort of his iron-clad, selfish rules.
Never stop moving. Never put down roots. Never look back.
On the morning of the wedding, he ran out of options. He sent a brief text: I’m picking you up at noon.
It took ten minutes for Nikki’s reply: I’ll be ready.
He sighed. Thanksgiving was five days away. Maybe he should get out of New Jersey. The sooner, the better. Nothing was the way he thought it would be. Too many messy emotions. Too many people. Too many regrets.
He pulled up in front of Nikki’s now-familiar house at twelve sharp. Before he could exit the car, she started down the walk, her long legs shown to advantage in silver heels. He met her halfway. “Hello.”
She eyed him coolly. “Hello.”
Though she carried a winter coat over her arm, the silvery-pink scarf around her shoulders protected her from the light breeze.
She looked stunning. Her golden-red hair was caught up on top of her head in a fancy knot of loose curls. The lustrous strand of pearls around her neck complemented the fabric of her dress. He wondered if Roberta had managed to hang on to one piece of valuable jewelry for her daughter, or if the pearls were costume.
The dress’s strapless bodice and fitted waist fluffed out in what Emma would probably call a princess skirt. It ended midcalf. Jake opened the passenger door for Nikki and helped her in, carefully tucking in her skirt so the door wouldn’t catch it.
When he ran around and slid behind the wheel, Nikki’s familiar scent enveloped him. Her perfume wasn’t heavy. Perhaps she had barely spritzed her throat. But he was intensely aware of it. And of her.
He started the engine. “You look beautiful, Nik. That dress was made for you.”
She stared out the windshield. “Thank you.”
“Are we going to act normal today?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
“C’mon, Nikki. Can’t we call a truce?”
Now her head snapped around in his direction. Her eyes shot fire. He’d always thought that was just an expression, but Nikki nailed it. “You mean a truce during the wedding or until you leave town?” she asked.
He counted to ten. “For my brother’s wedding. It’s an important day.”
“I know what weddings are, Jake. I had one, remember?”
The reminder hit him hard. He’d tried to forget that. “I know,” he said, reeling from the pain of imagining it. Suddenly, he wanted details. “Was it a big wedding?”
“Mom and I were broke. Timothy and I went to the courthouse.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” He said the words quietly, but he meant them. “You deserve to be happy.”
“Thank you.” She crossed her arms. The curves of her breasts peeked over the silky fabric that covered her chest. She looked lush, untouched, intensely feminine.
She belonged to him.The certainty came out of nowhere. Implacable. Undeniable. What was he going to do about it?
They arrived in Falling Brook and parked in a garage near the hotel. The half-a-block walk wasn’t bad. Nikki put on her coat. Jake helped. The bare nape of her neck gave him ideas, but he reined in his impulses. It would be hours until he could get her alone.
