Page 114 of Yours and Mine (Friends with Benefits)

“I should go home. This is… no, I’m sorry.” I stood up, set the empty bourbon glass aside, and headed for the door. A gentle touch on my hand when I reached for the handle startled me. Heat snaked its way up my arm and through my body, reviving a long forgotten need for a man I loved, forcing my heart on a new stampede and my mind to travel back in time, to when we were still together and life seemed uncomplicated.

I can’t do this.

“Please, forgive me.”

I exhaled. Forgive him for what? Miscommunication? The awful way in which Fate had torn us apart? The only forgiveness I could give was for his first decision to leave, and I’d made peace with that a long time ago.

“I’m at the bakery every day.”

“I know.”

He knew. Of course he knew. He’d known all about my life for the past six months when I thought he was six feet under. Well, technically I’d known he wasn’t there, because we never got a body back, but that’s where I’d thought him to be, at peace. I turned around before I left and looked at him once again.

“You need to tell your mother what happened. Do it before tomorrow because I won’t be able to keep this secret even for a second.”

“I will, I p—”

“Don’t promise. Please don’t promise.”

That may have been a direct stab to the heart, but how could I believe another one of his promises? The last one he’d made, to come back safely after two years, he broke. Still, deep inside, I knew that he meant it. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t fulfill it.

I gave him a weak smile and left. I didn’t even turn around to see whether he closed the door behind me, because I knew that he didn’t. He was watching me, the heat of his stare burning into my skin. I was afraid that if I turned, I’d run back into his arms and never let go. But I had others to think about: Mackenzie and Carter. They both deserved an explanation, except that I didn’t know what the right explanation was.

Carter drove us home in silence. When I finally closed the door, blocking out the world, I leaned my back against it and slowly lowered my body to the ground, sobbing.

“Shh, it’s okay, Jo. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I don’t know; but I do know that whatever happens, you’ll have my full support.”

Was he saying what I thought he was saying? That I was free to make a decision, any decision, and he wouldn’t object? He wouldn’t fight for me? Did I want him to? I sort of did, even though we were only best friends.

“I’m so confused.”

“I know, Cupcake. I know. But we’ll figure it out. You have a beautiful girl, a successful business, and a best friend that will forever have your back.”

“Thank you, Carter. For everything.”

As I sat there, I thought how difficult it had been to come to terms with Nick’s death, and wondered whether it’d be even harder to accept his new life.

Chapter 27

That afternoon, as Mackenzie frolicked in the pool with Carter, feeling a need for normalcy, or maybe to clear my head, I took my purse and walked to the grocery store. The shock of seeing Nick a few hours ago was still messing with me. I felt like I’d stepped out of a dream. Believing that he was alive would definitely take more convincing. At one point, I wanted to run back to that barn, throw my arms around his neck, and never let him go. A memory of that gentle touch of his fingers rushed through me, setting the hairs on my arms on full alert.

As I approached Mrs. Crafton’s store, I stopped and held my breath. There he was, in the middle of our street, loading up his truck with evergreens from the nursery by the general store. I sucked air in through my nose and, feeling anger burst, I marched over to him, pushing him on the arm.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I pushed him to the side where the truck would cover him somewhat. I didn’t mean to be so rough; but then again, maybe it was just an excuse to touch him to make sure he was real.

“Jo, I’m just getting a few supplies.”

I looked back to the store and grabbed his thick arm, pulling him out of direct view, yearning for that slight touch again. It would take a long time to convince me that he was real, and I wanted as much convincing as possible.

“What if someone recognized you? Have you told your mother?”

I finally let go of him. He scratched his long beard with his hand. His hair was still up in a bun.

“Not yet.”

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