Page 98 of Stay for Me
Brenna is out of bed, throwing a robe on and putting her hair in a pony tail. “The kids will be home any minute! You have to get dressed! Quickly!”
Since she’s clearly on the verge of a breakdown, I don’t argue. I look around, grabbing the clothing we tossed in the room as I carried her over my shoulder last night, slapping her ass for taking my ice cream.
“Oh my God. We can’t let them find us like this. And then there’s my in-laws! I’m never going to live this down. It’s the end of my quiet existence. I’m going to have to listen to lectures about unmarried sex again. They did that when I got pregnant with Melanie. Oh God, oh God, oh God, I can’t believe this!”
“Relax,” I tell her. “I’m already mostly dressed, and worst case, I’ll hide in the closet.”
She pumps her hands up and down as though she’s doing a push-up and blows a few breaths out. “Okay. Relax. I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m just having sex with a man. I’m an adult, and I can do that. Right?”
“I would like to say yes considering I’m who you had sex with.” I walk over and pull her into my arms.
“Don’t be charming. Be dressed and be gone before they show up.”
Her pep talk didn’t exactly calm her. I laugh once, kiss the top of her head, and throw my shirt on. “I’m all dressed now. Maybe you should do the same.”
Brenna looks down. “Shit! I have no clothes on. What am I thinking? I’m not. I’m in some sort of post-amazing-night-of-sex haze.”
She’s fucking adorable.
After another second of her deep breathing, she grabs a dress from the closet and slips it on. “You look beautiful,” I tell her.
“I look frazzled and like I just woke up in the arms of my lover. Maybe they’ll know. Maybe they can sense the sex on me. Do I smell like it?”
I lean in and sniff. “You smell like apples. I’d bite you.”
Brenna doesn’t seem as amused by my joke as I am. “Jacob, what we’re doing, it’s just for us, and I really don’t want my kids or anyone else getting the wrong idea about what we are. We’re just fucking around, and while I’m enjoying it, my kids, well, they won’t understand it. Sebastian loves you. Melanie thinks you’re wonderful, and they’ll want even the slightest chance that we could be something more than . . .” She points to the bed.
I nod, trying to pretend that I get it and that I haven’t thought of nothing else other than wanting to be with her. “We are more than that.”
Instantly, I regret saying it because there is a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “What are we then?”
If I were any other man, I’d say:We’re everything I want, andI’m falling in love with you. I want you to come with me because I don’t know that I’ll be able to walk away.
But I’m not that man. I’m leaving in three months, and I won’t do anything to break her heart. “We’re friends.”
I’m not a guy who Brenna should want to build a life with. I’m not noble or anything like the man she was married to before. I’m a mess with commitment issues and a Peter Pan complex. No woman would want a life with me.
She nods. “Right. Of course, we are.” There’s a sting in her response. “My point is that they’re not stupid and neither is anyone else in this town. I want to keep doing this, but we can’t be reckless.”
It’s as if I can hear Catherine agreeing with her in my head. I want to protect Brenna and her kids just as much as she does. If someone in the press catches wind of this, Brenna’s nice, quiet, country life will be gone. She’ll be starring in every headline, and I won’t be able to do a damn thing about it.
I grab my shoes before walking over and kissing her forehead. “You’re right. We’ll be more careful.”
When she looks up, her eyes are soft and she looks so beautiful. “Thank you. Now, go.”
I laugh and fight back the desire to tumble her back to the bed and really give her something to thank me for. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.”
Then I step back, feeling her loss everywhere and wishing more than anything I could stay as I walk away.
* * *
Sebastian pulls on the line, reeling as fast as he can. This kid has already caught four fish, and I haven’t had so much as a bite. I’m starting to think he’s jinxing me.
“Slowly,” I encourage as he struggles with the fish.
He eases up, allowing the fish to think he’s free, and then pulls up fast, moving his hands quickly. The line comes up, showing a huge bass at the end of it.
