Page 53 of Jacob

“The party at my parents’ house when we drank champagne in the bath.”

Only because his mother was pissing him off and he was hiding from her.

“One weekend I took you to the Grand National Ladies Day.”

It rained all day, and he spent most of his time talking to clients. I did win a hundred pounds on one of the horse races though.

“We were good together. You’ve just forgotten.”

He’s delusional.

“And we were good sexually, too. You can’t deny that, Skye.”

“I suppose so.”

“Give me a chance to remind you. Spend the night with me? For old times’ sake.” He cups my face with his familiar hand, the ones that have been all over my body. The only man I have ever let touch me intimately before.

The sound of the front door slamming shakes the house.

I stand, looking up into his wide, expectant eyes.

“I’ve met someone,” I tell him.

“What?” He grits his teeth.

“I’ve moved on.” He’s in no position to be mad. “Maybe you should go home to Evangeline. Isn’t she waiting there for you? Made you a three-course meal? Wearing the perfect string of pearls for you and fertile, willing, and able to spawn and expand your Brodie empire?”

“What the fuck, Skye?” His hand slips off my skin.

“You know I’m right and please, I mean it, don’t ever touch me again.” I don’t know where my inner confidence has come from. I should have had the backbone to speak my mind when I was with him.

I leave him standing there.

Walking back into the living room not expecting to find Violet, I’m surprised when she’s sitting snuggled up with Lincoln and Pom-pom.

“Did you not go out for a walk with the dog? I thought I heard someone go out?”

“Jacob left.” Lincoln pauses. “He overheard you and Owen talking.” He lowers his voice, looking awkward.

“Oh, bumheads. I have to go.” I pick up my backpack from the entryway and shout bye.

“He’s walking,” Lincoln calls.

“Where the hell is she going? And where’s Jay?” Owen asks Lincoln and Violet.

Pulling the door closed, my sneakers crunch underfoot as I kick up the gravel with my swift motion.

And then I sprint down Cherry Gardens Lane to the man who makes my heart race. The man I feel so deeply in my soul is made perfectly for me; the man I don’t ever think I can live without.

19

JACOB

“Jacob.” A voice calls my name from behind me.

I stop in my tracks and whip around to discover Skye running faster than a whippet, down the darkened street.

She smiles wider than the Golden Gate Bridge. Thumbs hooked into her backpack straps, she waggles her free fingers to wave to me. She’s so fucking cute. Her usual neat buns are now a complete mess as she bounces toward me.

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