The Summer of Jake Page 11

  “I can’t believe that’s all it was,” I gasped. Then I clutched her arm as I laughed some more.

  Her eyebrows shot up in interest. “What were you expecting?”

  “Oh, something much worse.” Gradually, our laughter faded, and I realized my hand was warm where it rested on her arm. Everything inside me strained toward her. I wanted nothing more than to kiss her, but I’d only just gotten things normal between us again, and I couldn’t jeopardize that. I moved my hand to my own thigh.

  “There was worse? Do tell,” she said as if she hadn’t noticed my inner debate. She probably hadn’t.

  “Nope. Use your imagination.”

  “Oh, come on, Jake. You have to give me something. And it had better be as good as the condom story.”

  She had a point. Since I’d said we needed to seal the pact of friendship, it needed to be two-sided. Thing was, I was okay with the condom story, but how would she deal with the shoe being on the other foot?

  Only one way to find out.

  “Okay, but first I want the same immunity deal.”

  “Does it involve Kelly, too?”

  “Nope. Well, kind of. But I want you to vow that there will be no repercussions for me if I tell you this.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “What did you do, Jake?”

  “Nothing on purpose.”

  She picked up her water glass. I wasn’t sure if she was thirsty or arming herself. “Spill, Maxwell.”

  “Remember that time when you were sixteen, and you and Kelly were getting ready to go out to a party?”

  “Too many times to count. You’ll have to narrow it down.”

  “While you were getting changed, I knocked on Kelly’s door, but instead of waiting, I turned the handle. Luckily Kelly was standing behind it and stopped it opening more than an inch.”

  Her face flushed with red. “I do remember that. It was a close call.”

  “Yeah, about that…” I said and watched as her eyes widened. She’d been so cute standing there in her underwear. As cute as she was now, with her disbelieving gaze.

  “There’s no way you saw anything. The door was barely open, and Kelly shut it quickly.”

  I casually tapped a finger on the table, trying not to laugh as I delivered the kicker. “Do you also remember that full length mirror Kelly had on one wall?”

  She gasped, her arms reflexively crossing over her chest. “I don’t believe you.”

  Part of me wanted to let her think her modesty was safe. But I was having far too much fun for that. “Matching white bra and panties with red love hearts all over them.” I finally let my grin free.

  I might not have been interested in her back then, but, to a teenage boy, a sighting of a teenage girl in her underwear was nothing to be scoffed at.

  Her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something, but had no idea how to form a sentence. It was the last straw—I burst out laughing. Annalise self-consciously chuckled, then gave in and laughed along with me. Then she bit down on her lip and said, “Thank goodness that’s all you saw.”

  “But I should probably admit that I did use my imagination.”

  Her eyebrows drew together, and she raised a pointed finger, but before she could call me on it, I said, “In my defense, I was an eighteen-year-old ball of testosterone.” Which didn’t seem to placate her in the least. Time to get back with the plan to seal the friendship.

  “Okay, your turn,” I said, and grinned.

  …

  Annalise

  “My turn for what?” I asked suspiciously. It paid to be on your guard around Jake.

  “Tell me something else. Something a friend would know.”

  I chewed down on my bottom lip, considering what I was willing to share of my soul. “My favorite book is Sense and Sensibility. Yours?”

  “Game of Thrones. Next?”

  Frowning, I ran through random information about myself until I found something else I could share. “My favorite movie quote is, ‘As you wish’.”

  “What’s it from?” He rubbed his temple with one finger, a move that was strangely familiar, but I couldn’t remember when I’d seen him do it before.

  “Only one of the best movies of all time—The Princess Bride.” I wrapped my arms around myself, thinking about all the happy times I’d spent watching that movie throughout my childhood. “What about yours?”

  Once again, he rubbed his index finger over his temple. “‘I am Loki of Asgard, and I am burdened with glorious purpose.’”

  Hang on. I knew where I’d seen that gesture before. He did it as a teenager when he was covering something up. Often if he was explaining to Eden where he’d been all night. It was his tell—he did it when he was lying. The guy was lying to me! Finally, my obsessive watching of him when we were teenagers was paying off.

  I smiled as if I was the sweetest person in the world. “I don’t believe you.”

  He stilled. “Why would you think that?” His voice was casual—far too casual.

  “You have a tell,” I said, laughing. “I’ve just realized.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

  “I’m not telling you, or it won’t be any use to me anymore. Besides, you’ve basically just admitted you were lying, so give. What’s your real favorite movie quote?”

  He glanced down at the table then back to me, his expression sheepish. “‘Dear Holly’. But,” he said quickly, “‘I am burdened with glorious purpose’ is still number two.”

  Despite his best efforts, I refused to be distracted. “Hang on. ‘Dear Holly’? You love P.S. I Love You?”

  “Yeah,” he admitted, chuckling.

  “Me, too.” I sighed. “I cry every time.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” he said and rubbed his temple with his index finger again.

  “Oh my God. You do. You totally cry at P.S. I Love You.”

  He threw his hands up in the air. “Jesus! How are you doing this? Okay, but not every time. Besides, it’s not crying. More that my eyes get a little damp. There are no actual tears.”

  “So,” I said, deciding to push further while I had the upper hand, “is it only P.S. I Love You that you’re reluctant to admit?”

  He winced, but he was grinning as he recited, “‘My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.’”

  “The Princess Bride!” I clapped my hands together, thrilled that, not only did he love my favorite movie, but he was admitting something to me that he obviously usually didn’t. “You know, you have good taste in movies.”

  He groaned and thunked his head on the table. “Kelly played it over and over when we were kids. It has great fight scenes. Just don’t go telling everyone.”

  “Your secret is safe with me.” Movement over his shoulder caught my attention, and I dragged my gaze away from his face to check it out. “Hey look, your mum and Gerry are coming back.”

  Part of me was a little disappointed that the time Jake and I had just shared was over. It had been special in many ways. Magical. It had been especially fun laughing with him—he gave himself over to it completely, his mouth wide open with shouts of laughter, his body rocking—but now the moment had passed.

  Jake released my arm and jumped up, tilting his head to the kitchen—smile still in place. “I’ll put the coffee percolator on.”

  Watching him go, I was enveloped in a sense of longing. A longing to be able to follow him to the kitchen if I felt like it, to not have to hide my feelings. To be free.

  Friends, he’d said. We’d made a pact and sealed the deal. And I guessed he was right. We did have a friendship. Somewhere along the way, he’d moved from merely being Kelly’s brother and Eden’s son. Moved from being the object of a crush to being a real life, living, breathing friend.

  And I liked him being in my life as a friend. He was fun to be around and really good to talk things over with.

  It certainly wasn’t in the cards for us to be involved, but maybe this friendship was enough. I�
�d keep my fantasy boyfriend Jake separated in my mind from my real life friend Jake.

  Surely I could do that?

  I let out a breath and squared my shoulders. Of course I could.

  Eden and Gerry reached the table, both smiling and windswept and relaxed. They looked good. “Jake’s making coffee.”

  Gerry dropped the slip-on shoes he’d been carrying and slid them on. “I’ll go help him.” With a quick smile at Eden, he left.

  Eden sank down onto the seat beside me, looked back out at the beach and let out a sigh. “I love this spot.”

  The ocean was a breathing mass of darkest indigo, with a silvery ribbon of moonlight down its center. The absence of bird-life and people on the beach gave it more mystery, more ambience. I breathed it in. “Me, too.” I turned back to her. “How’s your singing going?”

  “Good.” She nodded but didn’t take her focus from the waves. “I still have the regular gigs, Wednesday night at the Surf Club and Friday night at The Point Beer Garden which gives me the daytime in my garden.” As she described a career and a lifestyle that would be envied by many, there was something missing in her voice. A hint of something. An underlying emotion that didn’t strike the same note as her words.

  I studied her unguarded expression in profile. “What’s not right with that picture?”

  Her head whipped around, revealing a frown of denial. “I’m absolutely lucky to have the gigs, I know that.” Her face softened into a wistful smile. “I’m so grateful I could support myself and my kids all these years.”

  Everyone in Sydney—in Australia—knew that when Eden became pregnant, her band had been poised to crack the international market. And to many people’s surprise, Eden left the band to stay home with her baby, Jake. The papers and magazines had been fascinated, and relentlessly followed the story of Eden leaving the band to raise Jake. The band got a new singer and went onto stardom without her. She and Jake’s father married and continued their relationship long enough to conceive Kelly two years later. But he’d kept touring. And drinking.

  Theirs was a highly publicized divorce.

  “Do you miss the touring?”

  “I do.” Eden’s eyes widened. Then she covered her mouth with a hand. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

  I sat back in my chair, a bit surprised. Eden was the person I’d always wanted to be when growing up. She knew who she was and wasn’t afraid of living her life her way. On her own terms. She was the last person I’d expect to repress a desire of the heart. “But it’s true, isn’t it?”

  Eden cast a look at Jake in his kitchen talking to Gerry, and let out a breath. “I hate to be ungrateful. I’ve been so blessed.” She looked at Jake again, this time with love and pride and tenderness.

  I followed her gaze, but I looked with lust and need and want. I hoped my emotions weren’t as obvious as hers.

  She pulled her long hair into a ponytail with her hands then let it drop again and shrugged. “I gave up touring to give Jake, and later Kelly, some stability. I wanted to do that more than tour.”

  She’d done it, too—given them stability and everything else they needed. For the first time, I wondered if she knew that. “You succeeded. You raised great people.”

  A huge smile—Jake’s gorgeous smile—spread across her face. “They are, aren’t they? And I still have music in my life—I can earn my crust through singing. I have no justification to want more.” Her voice held an edge of wistfulness.

  I grabbed her hand and squeezed. “The heart wants what it wants, Eden. Your kids are grown. Why wouldn’t you follow your dreams now?”

  A flame in her eyes sparked, began to fade, then caught light. “Me touring again.” She said the words slowly, as if trying them on for size.

  Her newfound excitement was contagious. I felt as if I were the one whose dreams were on the brink of being realized. “Absolutely. Where do you want to go?”

  “I’m not sure.” She pulled her legs up on the seat in front of her and wrapped her arms around them. “When I was in the band, we fantasized about world domination.” She gave a wry smile. “A young woman’s dream.”

  I giggled thinking of the pictures of young Eden—I bet she would have done it, too. “And now?”

  “Now I just want to go new places.” Her head tipped back, and she took in the stars above. “Sing to crowds from other countries. Every crowd has a different energy, a unique vibe. I’ve been singing to crowds with a similar vibe for so long, I just want to share my music with new people, you know?” Her head took a lazy path back to settle facing me, her eyes blazing.

  “So most anywhere new will do?”

  She laughed. “Yeah, actually. Europe, the US. Not the stadiums I wanted before—smaller, intimate venues, where I can feel the audience and speak to them with song.”

  For a moment, I wished I could sing. To have that ability to communicate with a group of people. “Do it.”

  She stretched out her legs, her gaze on her bright red toenails. “I tell you what, I’ll look into it. I’d need an agent—I haven’t had one for years.”

  Her focus seemed to be intent on her toes, but I could tell she wasn’t seeing them. Her mind was ticking over.

  It was a sight that made my heart sigh in delight.

  …

  Jake

  “Another coffee, Gerry?” I picked up our empty mugs.

  “No, thanks. I’d better head off, as well.”

  “Just because Mum and Annalise went early doesn’t mean you have to.”

  Gerry smiled. “Ah, but I need my beauty sleep.”

  I chuckled and led him to the door. On the doorstep, I paused. “I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day. Can I ask you something?”

  “Fire away.”

  “When I watched you give that lesson on the beach, you looked like you had the same passion as when you coached me.”

  “I do.”

  “How? I used to have passion for things, but it slips away. How do you keep it?”

  “The trick isn’t keeping the passion, it’s knowing what your passion is for.”

  “That’s it?” I asked, frowning.

  “Yep. You’re smart, Jake, and things have come too easily to you, so you’ll have to work harder at this than most. But, once you have the right thing, the passion takes care of itself.”

  “Forever?” That seemed too simple.

  “Sometimes your passion shifts to something else, and that’s all right, too. First you find it, then you follow it.”

  “You know, I never felt like searching before, but, lately, something’s different.” My mind drifted back to the image of Annalise on my board. “So, how do I find it?”

  “Ah, there’s a question.” He winked. “Night, Jake.”

  Why was Gerry always so damn cryptic? “Night, Sensei,” I called after him. “Thanks for nothin’.”

  Gerry’s laughter floated back from the footpath.

  Chapter Nine

  Annalise

  Two days later, I was fumbling with a bag of change I’d been trying to empty into the cash register in Barbara’s Fancy Pants when it fell, and coins scattered over the floor. The declaration I’d made the night before that things couldn’t get worse floated into my mind, and I winced. I knew I shouldn’t have tempted fate.

  When Barbara called and begged the favor, I’d jumped at the chance to work a shift for her and occupy my mind with something other than Jake Maxwell. And the money would certainly come in handy.

  Barbara had apologized and explained her emergency before pleading for help—she’d thought of me since I’d told her I’d left my last job the day I’d taken Jake to her shop. But she could have saved herself the effort—I was already sold on the idea.

  After picking up the coins and placing them carefully in their slots, I walked over to serve a customer. As I’d only just opened the doors, we were on our own.

  “Can I help you with anything?”

  The woman turned and smiled warm
ly.

  Oh, no. It can’t be.

  Fate had apparently heard my challenge and was replying, I’ll see you a “can’t get worse” and raise you one “Scarlett Logan.” Where was a plague of killer tomatoes when you needed it?

  “Annalise! I didn’t know you worked here!” Scarlett grasped my hands and leaned in to kiss my cheek.

  “Scarlett, how are you?” I asked in my sweetest voice. I returned the hand-grasping gesture while wondering how firm was too firm. Squeezing until she winced? Until she yelped? Until a police megaphone blared, Release the hand! Step away from the hand!

  Reluctantly, I released the hand.

  “Oh, I’m great, thanks,” Scarlett said, apparently oblivious to her hand’s close call. “What about you?”

  “I’m great, too.” There was an awkward pause, and I considered asking about Thomas, but Scarlett was the last person I’d ask for that information.

  “Have you seen Thomas lately?” Scarlett’s expression was friendly, but courtesy of Thomas himself, I knew the truth. She was a stellar actress.

  I gave one shake of my head, matching Scarlett’s faux-friendliness. “No, not for a while.”

  “He’s doing really well. Should I tell him you said hello?”

  I’d rather you told him you’re a manipulating vixen who needs to stay out of his relationships. “Please do. And,” I said, more genuinely, “say hi to Finn, too.” Scarlett’s best friend, Finn, often tagged along to her family gatherings, so I’d seen a fair bit of him in the two years I was with Thomas. As the two non-family members, we’d spent a lot of time chatting while the others talked about family things.

  “Will do,” she said. “And I’m sure he’d want me to say hi back.”

  She was right, he probably would—he was a great guy. “So are you looking for something in particular?”