Page 35 of Handling Skylar
“Oh yes you will, you tease and, of course, it’s complicated. It’s Jake Sutton. I’ll see you after lunch. Go ride ‘im, cowgirl.”
I chuckled as I started some coffee brewing, then pulled out the ingredients for my mom’s chocolate-banana pancake casserole. My go-to comfort food and something my mom made me when I was in turmoil. For a moment, I braced myself against the counter, grief washing over me, mixing in with my concern for Jake, all of it rolling into one big ball in my chest.
As soon as the thing was in the oven, I went into my pantry to grab some spare syrup when I remembered I’d used up the last of it I’d had in the fridge, consoling myself over…Jake.
When I came back out, Jake was standing at the fridge, drinking straight from a container of juice, the smell of coffee and pancake delight filling the air. Clutching the syrup, I watched his smooth throat work, the muscles of his back flexing, bare-chested with only those faded jeans he’d had on last night. I’d thrown them in the washer and drier before I’d gone to bed beside his heavily sleeping body. Knee-weakeningly aware of his large male form, the top button was undone and his hair was towel-dried and in disarray. I just wanted to drag him back into my bed.
A husky tone to my voice, I said, “I see you found your clothes. Ah, half of them anyway. Not that I’m complaining.”
He turned slightly and stopped drinking, the carton engulfed in his big hand. He stared at me for a moment, then shut the door. He stared at me across the room, the muscles in his jaw tightening, his eyes shadowed with his continuing struggle. No man drank like that, got that falling down drunk for fun. Setting the juice on the counter, he moved toward me, gathered me up without a word and pulled me against him.
Unaccountably moved by the hug, even more moved by the protective way he tucked my head against his shoulder, I shut my eyes and struggled against the sudden threat of tears. Crimeny, this man deserved some joy in his life.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For standing you up, for acting like a complete asshole and idiot.”
I set the syrup down on the counter and wrapped my other arm around him and murmured, “You’re not an asshole or an idiot, Jake.”
When I’d found him after frantically searching, his brother and sister both alarmed, I’d been so relieved. Something had happened to him, something profound and life-altering. My chest felt painfully full. I had shed some worried tears in the car. I was certain after what Jake had said to me, he wouldn’t have stood me up. I knew he was in trouble. Struggling with the tightness pressing down in my chest, I’d looked into those lost eyes and there had been no barrier. The unexpected starkness there had made my heart contract. Pain. And a terrible, terrible aloneness. Feeling as if I’d just stumbled onto something so private, so personal, that it was as if I had trespassed emotionally when he was at his most vulnerable. “I’m here for you,” I said. “You can count on me.”
“That’s good,” he said. “I need you, Sky. I need you bad,” he whispered. He’d had so much pressure on him for years. Twenty-six years. And I knew there were some very deep scars. Scars that went soul deep. I’d talked to Chase and he’d said that Jake had forgiven him, so what had happened?
“Remember that next time you want to drink a bottle of Jack and stumble around on the highway. You know where to find me and it would be safer for you and less scary for me. I was worried about you.”
He was silent for a moment, and I gave him some time. I raised my head. Jake met my gaze for a split second, then stared at the floor. There was something about the set of his shoulders about the tight lines of his mouth, that made me want to cry, and I looked at the ceiling and swallowed hard.
The ache finally eased. I cupped his bristly chin and drew his eyes to me. “Please, Jake,” I pleaded softly. “Talk to me. You’re safe with me.”
His face contorting in a fury of pent-up feelings, he hit the edge of the counter with his fist. He raised his hand for a second blow, but I caught it before it could connect. Shaken by his uncharacteristic display of anger, I slid my free arm around his rigid shoulders. Grasping him by the back of the neck, I used all my strength to hold him against me. “Don’t,” I whispered brokenly. “Please don’t.” He tried to pull away, but I refused to let him go. Closing my eyes against the feelings that washed through me, I tried to soothe him with the sound of my voice. “Shh, shh,” I crooned softly. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
He shuddered and turned his face against my neck, then dragged in a deep, ragged breath and caught me in a crushing embrace. Cradling the back of his head, I pressed my whole body against him, trying to physically give comfort, trying to wordlessly let him know that it was okay. His hand tangled in my hair as he shifted his hold, locking me against him. He inhaled raggedly and turned his face against my neck. “I saw Chase. I tried to let go of everything—the resentment, the anger—let the past be in the past. My brother hasn’t ever changed. He’s still the guy I always knew. He apologized and I think I forgave him, but when I let down my barriers, when I let go of everything, I found that I’d buried something awful.”
Letting go of his head, I hugged him hard. “What was it?” I asked, my voice softly encouraging. “You’re so very safe with me, Jake.” I brushed at his cheek, then rubbed the back of his neck. “Tell me,” I continued to caress him, giving him time to think about it.
After a while, he released a heavy sigh, and I raised my head and looked at him. His expression drawn and lost, he touched my cheek. “I discovered that it wasn’t my brother I’ve been so pissed at since he left,” he said, his voice strained.
I rubbed a trace of juice from the corner of his mouth and gave him a soft, reassuring squeeze. “Who?”
He closed his eyes and said, “My daddy. He’s the one who drove Chase away. I think it was so hard for me to process at sixteen, that I just transferred my anger to Chase, denying the truth. It was easier.”
“I know all about denial,” I said, pressing my forehead to his. “You’re in touch with it now, Jake. How has that truth affected you?”
“I don’t know who I am, Sky. I have been who I thought my daddy wanted me to be for so many years, I’m not sure what I want anymore.”
“Then you’ll take the time to figure this out.”
“I don’t want to live in that house now. I can’t think there. I don’t know what to do or where to go.”
“You can stay with me.” Angry at his personal circumstances and the pressure that had been so intense, wishing I could make it better, I took his face between my hands, then stretched up and gave him a soft kiss.
He stopped breathing and went very still. I could feel the need in him, the lonely, lonely need, and I put my heart and soul into that kiss, wordlessly telling him that I was all in here. A shudder coursed through him, and he drew another ragged breath, catching me by the back of the head, his jaw flexing beneath my hand as he responded. He moved his mouth slowly against mine, tasting me, savoring me, drawing my breath from me and leaving me weak.
It went on and on, until I was suffocating from all the sensations pouring in on me, and I flattened my hand against his chest. He tensed and dragged his mouth away from mine. His heart was slamming in his chest, and his breath was harsh and uneven, but he gathered me up in a cuddling embrace and I hung on to him, giving him my strength. “I know what it’s like to lose yourself and try to put all the pieces back together. I left my hometown with my legacy in ashes, Jake. I didn’t know where to go or what to do, but I followed my heart. I found Suttontowne and what I love. You will, too. You’ve just got to give yourself time to find out what matters to you. Let me be your Suttontowne.”
He raised his head. “You don’t have to do anything your uncomfortable with, Sky.” He shifted his gaze as he smoothed his thumb along my eyebrow, then looked at me, his eyes dark and solemn. “Believe me, I’d understand if you wanted to keep all this quiet.”
It had cost him to make such an open admission. I could see it in his eyes, and it was all I could do to keep from letting my feelings get the upper hand. “I don’t care if the whole world knows,” I responded softly, holding his gaze. “And I don’t care who finds out about us. Except, the issue with Anna Kate—”
“There’s no issue there anymore. I broke it off with her. Not as eloquently as I hoped to, but she pushed my buttons.”
