Page 40 of Worthy Now
“Guess we’ll just have to improvise. Find something else for you to put your mouth on,” I suggest, matching the slow smile taking over Jake’s features when the entire table breaks into a chorus of groans.
Twenty-Four
Tessa
Jake and I have just finished an early lunch at Carla’s Café and are taking a leisurely stroll through the downtown area, when the cutest little baby blanket catches my eye through the window of Annie’s Quilt Shop. The topic of starting a family of our own someday may not have come up yet, but ever since I’ve made it known that I won’t be returning to the city, it seems more and more likely that marriage and kids are only a matter of time. Judging by the way Jake had shown his appreciation following my decision to stick around after we got home from the diner the other night, I think it’s safe to say he hasn’t just been looking at this as a casual arrangement, either.
“I thought you weren’t going to kiss me?”
Jake’s low chuckle vibrates against my skin as he trails his lips up the side of my throat.
“I wasn’t going to,” he says, biting down on my lobe before soothing the sting with his tongue. “But then I figured if you’re going to be staying for good this time around, I’d better get used to your disgusting eating habits.”
“How very selfless of you,” I tease, arching my back when he tugs down the fabric of my lace bra to lavish special attention on his favorite part of my anatomy.
“I’ll admit, I was getting a little nervous about letting this go much further without knowing where you stood,” he says in a low rumble, locking his heated eyes with mine. “I don’t think I would’ve survived you leaving a second time.” Pushing a stray curl off his forehead, I make sure my voice doesn’t waver when I tell him, “I’m here to stay. Like it or not, but you’re stuck with me now.”
“Good,” he says with a rakish grin. “Let’s make sure you don’t come to regret your choice, shall we?” He doesn’t speak again, too busy kissing his way down my torso before he pours himself between my legs and goes on to make a pretty convincing argument.
He doesn’t know it yet, but after I said my goodbyes to a blubbering Caleb at the airport a few days ago, I needed a moment to pull myself together before making the drive back.So, I grabbed a cup of coffee, took advantage of the free Wi-Fi the café provided and made some inquiries about potential career moves.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my job. But my boss and I butt heads quite frequently and my current position requires me to live in LA full time, which simply doesn’t work for me anymore. It’s too early to tell whether any of my efforts will bear fruit, but I’m confident I’ll know more within the week.
Feeling almost giddy at the thought of watching Jake’s face light up once I tell him the good news, I push down the ever-present guilt that seems to creep in on me whenever I experience even a moment of joy. Knowing my mom is currently at home, battling another bout of extreme fatigue is enough to wipe the smile off my face. I’d offered to cancel my lunch date to be there for her, but my mother insisted I go, telling me she’d be sleeping for most of the day anyway, before shooing me out the door. These days, I seem to be caught in a perpetual state of trying not to break down in tears over her condition and wanting to jump up and down like a kid in a candy store because the dreamy guy giving me the side-eye at this very moment makes me deliriously happy.
“Am I missing something?” Jake asks, coming to stand beside me as he gives the blanket I’m eyeing a once-over. “Megan doesn’t have another bun in the oven, does she? Even though it wouldn’tsurprise me. According to my calculations, they’re about due to announce another pregnancy.”
I chuckle, tangling my fingers with his before pulling him away from the storefront and the temptation that lies within. It’s far too early to be making googly eyes at nursery essentials.
“As far as I know, Megan is done. Last time I visited there was a literal poop explosion. I’m serious,” I say when Jake gives a mock shudder. “That diaper was most definitely not leakproof. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“That’s disturbing,” he mumbles, scrunching up his nose in disgust. I decide this is as good a moment as any to test the waters. “You know? If you plan on having kids of your own one day, you’d better toughen up. Babies poop. They’re loud, and messy, and a lot of work. I’m telling you right now. I’m not having children with a man who’s not hands-on.”
“In that case, we should probably call it quits before things get too serious.” The back of my hand collides with his rock-hard stomach, causing him to release a startled grunt before he throws his head back on a laugh. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m kidding. Might I remind you that I was the one who took care of Ariana’s not so little surprise—twice—the last time we babysat her, because you looked like you’d rather sit your naked ass down in an ant hill thanfind out what that diaper held. I couldn’t have been any more hands-on if I tried.”
Giving him an acknowledging nod, I take a breath for courage and blurt out the one question I’d been too afraid to ask up until now.
“So, does that mean you wouldn’t be opposed to having children?” Jake’s feet stop moving and he turns to face me, tilting his head and looking at me in a way that lets me know I have his full attention.
“Are you offering? Because I could be convinced to give it a go right now.”
“Can you be serious for a second?” The slight tremble in my voice must make him realize that this is important to me, for he instantly sobers. “I want a family someday, and I guess it just occurred to me that I don’t really know where you stand? Watching you with your siblings and then our friend’s kids…I mean, you’re so good with them, and I just assumed you’d want children of your own. But we’ve never actually talked about it, and if I’m going to uproot my whole life to be with you, I need to know we’re on the same page.”
Jake’s eyes soften and he gives my hand a gentle squeeze before saying, “I want everything with you, Tessa. Always have. Even back when we were teenagers, I knew I’d want you to have my babiessomeday. But then we broke up, and I was such a mess for so long, and slowly but surely, the self-doubt began to creep in. What if I turn out just like my father? What if I fuck up my own kids the way he messed me up?”
I shake my head, ready to dismiss his concerns, but Jake holds up a hand to stop me. “My dad wasn’t born a monster,” he continues, willing me to hear him out. “Life just kicked him in the balls one too many times and when the booze got a hold of him, he didn’t care about anything but feeding his addiction. After you left, it became pretty obvious that an addictive personality seems to run in the family, and I got a better understanding of what made him tick. How easy it is for that shit to dig its claws into you. Combine that with being unable to find anyone I could picture myself starting a family with, and I’d pretty much kissed the idea of ever becoming a father goodbye. I’d resigned myself to simply being the fun uncle, and maybe that was for the best. Like, did I really want to risk passing my genes down to the next generation? But then you came back.”
“And now?” I fish, unable to hide just how eager I am to hear his answer.
“Now,” he says, gifting me with an adorable half-smile that makes my heartbeat speed up. “I can’t wait to see your belly rounded with our child while you waddle around our home like a cutelittle penguin. I know I just got you back, and my head is telling me to slow down and not rush this, but my heart has always known. So, if you asked me to give you a baby right this second, I’d move heaven and earth to make it happen.”
I swallow around the lump of emotion clogging my throat. “Would you mind waiting until after the wedding? I’d hate to look like a bloated manatee when I walk down the aisle.”
Jake barks out a laugh and pulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me and pressing the softest of kisses to the middle of my forehead. “Is that your subtle way of telling me to get my ass in gear and propose already?” he murmurs into my hair.
“You can take that as you may,” I reply, soaking in this rare moment of contentment as we stand in the afternoon sun and simply breathe each other in. Then, a voice straight from my nightmares calls out to us, and I jerk away from Jake, eyes widening at the sight of Jessica Cartwright making her way across the street toward us.
It takes everything in me not to greet her with a fist to the face, as I force my clenched hands to my sides. Jake is wearing an expression that suggests he may be fighting a violent bout of diarrhea while his eyes flick back and forth between us. When he eventually pulls himself together, he reinforces his grip on my hand and begins to rub calming circles over my skin in silent support. The only thing keeping me from resorting to violence is the knowledge that Jessicaisn’t well, and the last thing I want to be known for—having just returned to this tight-knit community—is punching the mentally ill.
