Page 38 of Take Me Home

I let out a long breath, resting my head on Bri’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re here. Thanks for being on my team, too. You’re the captain of Team Me.”

“Damn straight I am. Also? I love that your accent is back.”

13

JAKE

Ididn’t really have anything to do for my thesis. I was just being emo. With good reason.

I missed my dad. The reality was creeping in. In a few days, it would have been 13 years since he died. He left us when I was 13. That July, he’d have been gone for half my life.

Traces of him were everywhere that time of year. Sometimes it was more poetic. Other times it was just crippling. Devastating. Breathtaking, and not in a good way.

Crushing on Darcy had been a nice distraction, but the more into her I got, the more I wondered what he’d tell me to do, what he’d think of her. I knew he’d like her. Sometimes it felt like he hand-picked her for me. I saw bits of his sense of humor in her, and when her smile was so fucking beautiful, I thought about how he used to talk about my mom.

“I don’t need the sun to rise, Tiger. Your mother is the sunrise,” he told me one time. Shows why I turned out to be the sap I am when it comes to falling in love. But I wasn’t always that way. For a while, I thought I needed to be different, more callous. I wasted a bunch of girls’ time. I mean, they had fun. I made sure of that. But that’s all it was. Fun.

I wanted more than fun with Darcy. I saw more in her than just a good time. I saw the softness that she covered with hard edges until it seeped out without her permission. I saw how she worked hard to make things work out for the best for everybody, and how she led the farm with compassion. I saw that perfectionist drive in her that probably drove her crazy but made her not settle for less. I hoped I was up to the task of being enough for her.

I think Dad would tell me to be a gentleman, no matter how tired of it I was getting. Darcy had subtly told me to back off, but then she cracked the door back open when I took care of her. I wanted her to be mine so badly, but I knew it had to be in her time. Dad would remind me of that. Though I think at some point, he’d tell me to just go for it.

Or at least I think he would. He wasn’t alive when I had my first kiss or my first heartbreak. Mom and Jamie had to handle all of that. As much as I would let them anyway. I mostly hid in my room and played Metallica. So innovative I was, so edgy.

But as I made my way to the house to bake with Darcy and Brianna, I felt like my dad was somehow behind the fact that the sky completely opened up. Thick, heavy raindrops poured down in sheets. Of course, I hadn’t brought a rain jacket or an umbrella, so by the time I got to the house, I was drenched.

Darcy must have seen me run up on the porch from the kitchen, as she met me at the mud room door. My hair dripped over my eyes as I looked at her, as if for dramatic effect.

“Oh, wow. Need a new shirt?” she offered. A glance at my shirt showed that I was basically an entry to a men’s wet t-shirt contest.

“Um, yeah, actually,” I said, laughing in disbelief as I squeezed water out of it onto the porch. “If you have one.”

She waved me in. I peeled off my soaked socks and shoes and left them in the entryway. As we passed through the kitchen, I didn’t miss the look that Brianna and Darcy exchanged, Darcy making a little lunge at Bri to keep her from talking.

“Did you get your work done?” Darcy asked breezily.

“Yep, for now at least,” I said, a complete lie since I hadn’t had anything specific to do anyway. “I’ll go get my towel from the bathroom.”

I stripped my shirt off and dried myself, hanging my shirt from the shower curtain rod. I’d spent years in and out of locker rooms with more exposed than my chest, so I really didn’t think twice about wandering into Darcy’s room with no shirt. She was digging through her drawers and looked up when she heard me come in. I ran the towel over my hair and leaned against the doorframe, not wanting to get too close and make her nervous. And then I noticed how she was looking at me.

Darcy’s mouth hung open, her brow slightly furrowed as her eyes dragged over my bare skin. Then she forced her mouth shut, breathing so hard from her nose that her chest heaved. Her tongue peeked out for a split second as she pulled her lower lip into her teeth, still studying me. Those big doe eyes looked predatory for once instead of innocent, a side of her I hadn’t seen. Hunger passed across her features, dirty thoughts visibly turning the gears in her head. I’d have paid good money to know just one of those thoughts. I was grateful to be across the room, because if I were any closer to her, I’d have been reaching for her in a second, and there was no way I could hold back when she was looking at me like that.

“Tattoo…” she mumbled, gesturing to the tiger that wrapped down my shoulder and left pec.

“Yeah. My dad’s nickname for me,” I said quietly.

“Oh?” she asked, still in a trance of sorts. Like I was the snake charmer and she was the snake, she rose from the basket at the call of my body. The air in the room felt charged. One spark could blow the whole place down. Between her husky voice and her ravenous stare, I was having trouble not making it obvious how much she was turning me on. Her best friend was still downstairs, and now that making a move was within striking distance, I felt like I wasn’t ready. After all, one wrong step and my Bambi would go running. I wasn’t ready to risk it.

“Find anything?” I asked, changing the subject before this became the explosion that put us over the edge.

Her trance was over, snapped out of it just like that. My shy little deer was back, her whole face, ears, chest, and neck flushing red.

“So sorry,” she stammered, busying herself with digging in the drawer again. I crossed the room to stand next to her, peering into the drawer. Five seconds before I was sure I wasn’t ready, and there I was hoping for more again. I could feel the heat pulsing off her body.

“How about this one?” She pulled out a men’s Carhartt shirt and shoved it toward me without looking at me.

“Is this an ex-boyfriend’s shirt?” I asked with disdain.

She laughed, her at-ease self returning. Darcy contained multitudes: shy and skittish, fun and boisterous, and now a thirsty sex kitten. I’d be thinking about that later. “No, those are all at the bottom of a dumpster somewhere. I buy big comfy men’s shirts for myself.”

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