A Moonlit Serenade Page 17

  “Call Detective Davenport, will ya, Alan? Thanks for the ring.”

  I continued to shiver as Jake led me over to my couch. He hoisted me into his arms and I huddled there, needing the warm safety of his arms and chest.

  “Got to tell you, love. I don’t like those people.”

  “They thought…” I swallowed hard, willing back the tears that threatened. “How could they think that of me?”

  He brushed my hair off my cheek. “Best guess? Grief. Warped her mind. Just as it did her daughter’s.”

  “You…you were right, Jake. I’m sorry I was angry that you wanted me to contact the police.”

  And the tears broke free. Tears for the family I’d known and loved, and the man whose death unintentionally broke so many lives.

  Jake held me through my tears. He helped me dress and ran a brush through my hair when my hand shook too much to hold the handle. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, molding me to his side through our official statements and even through my next bout of shaking when I had to make the call as to whether to press formal charges.

  “Give us a minute?” Jake asked the detective.

  Davenport nodded, his eyes full of sympathy. If we’d met under different circumstances, I would have liked the man much more. Probably considered him the friend Jake did.

  “How are you holding up?” Jake asked. I bit my quivering lip but not before Jake saw. He rubbed the back of his neck and turned away.

  His reaction caused more tears to push past my rapidly blinking lids—which he turned back just in time to see fall. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.

  “You gotta let the past go, Ryn.”

  I wanted to tell him I hated hurting him, hated that he thought my tears fell for Dez or even myself.

  “I’ll give you a mo’. Me, too. Need to cool off from all this.”

  And with that, Jake walked out of the room. The sob I’d been holding in burst forth as I heard my front door slam.

  “Dammit,” I yelled, throwing my pillow across the room. “Dammit!”

  “Whoa! I didn’t think you cursed.”

  I turned to see Isaac standing in the doorway of my room, eyes wide.

  “I don’t, normally. Ever. But I’m…I’m so fucking pissed at Dez and his family for hurting Jake.” I scrubbed my palms over my wet cheeks. “I need Jake.”

  “And he needed a breather, which is why he asked me to stay with you.”

  “You don’t have to babysit me. I have Detective Davenport.” I waved my hand in the vague direction of my living room.

  “I don’t mind staying,” Isaac said, his voice kind.

  “Thank you. But I’m not much for company.” I bent down and picked up my pillow. “I appreciate you being here. Really. But go do your thing. I’ll touch base once I…” My thoughts turned back to Jake, the frustration on his face. Dread filled my stomach as the worry I’d pushed him away resurfaced.

  “I’m not leaving your side, Ryn. Jake asked me to stick here tight, and I mean to do it.”

  “Did he take Alan with him?” I asked.

  Isaac nodded. “Want me to wait in the living room?”

  “Please.” Once Isaac shut my door, I collapsed back onto my bed, barely listening as Isaac and the detective spoke.

  I sat there, head bowed, until Detective Davenport wrapped his knuckles on the edge of my door. “If you need more time to decide what you want to do, that’s fine. But we do have a maximum hold period, and if you’re not going to press charges, I’ll have to let Joyce Hudson go.”

  I glanced down at my phone, but there was no message from Jake. Not a word from him. My heart tripped then sped up.

  I stood fast, my legs wobbly, but determination fierce. I had to finish this. Had to get Joyce, Ted, and Sam out of my life. Now.

  Jake deserved to know he was all I thought about—that he was more important to me than the child I might never have. Because while I wanted a baby for more than twenty years of my life, I wanted that child so I wouldn’t be alone.

  So someone, somewhere, would need me and want me. Love me.

  Jake took care of me last night. He did the same this morning. He made sure I was never alone. When he couldn’t be here—even if it was because of anger—he made sure I had a companion, a protector. He deserved the same level of care from me.

  I could—I would—do this. For Jake but also for myself.

  “I’ll go to the station with you.”

  The detective turned on his heel and led me through my apartment, Isaac falling into step beside me after I locked my door.

  “Why’d you try to hurt me, Joyce?” I had to know.

  I sat across the metal table from her, hands folded on top, trying to look composed.

  I’d broken down on the way here and texted Jake, letting him know where I’d gone—and why. That was two hours ago, but I still hadn’t heard back. Each tick of the clock reverberated through my chest—an omen that I’d lost the man I needed more than my previous dreams.

  “Because you needed a wake-up call.”

  I shook my head, unsure how to respond.

  “You think a rock star’s going to make you happy? Please. He’s shallow. Self-absorbed.”

  I could tell Ted and Joyce how wrong they were about my lover. That Jake was much more attuned to my needs than Dez had been—Dez and I had been together so long, on some level we took the other’s presence for granted.

  I could tell them that Jake was an introvert thrust into an extrovert’s role. I could tell them how he read poetry—just last week he read me Maya Angelou’s Caged Bird as we lay together on the couch. I could tell them how his eyes lit up when we walked through the Seattle Art Museum. How he stopped in front of a particular Wyeth piece and gripped my hand tighter because it stole his breath.

  I could tell them he’d started coursework for his PhD, deciding to bypass his master’s because he wanted to spend more time with me—and “adding three years more to my education, whilst fun, isn’t going to keep you company or all that happy when I’m writing yet another paper.”

  I could tell Joyce that Jake always put his family’s needs before his own—he searched for the perfect house in Murphy’s neighborhood in case his mother wanted to spend more time with Murphy and Mila’s baby.

  I could but I wouldn’t. Because those details—Jake’s innermost feelings mattered to me. I wanted to protect him with the same fierce determination he’d shown for my well-being.

  Sam sat at the end of the table, head bowed. She’d appeared an hour earlier with a lawyer for her mother, who sat on the other side of Joyce.

  “I’m going to give you a choice. I worked it out already with the district attorney.” I didn’t tell them that Detective Davenport hadn’t liked my plan. More than likely, Jake hated it, too, which was probably why he still hadn’t returned my long, rambling text.

  “I want all three of you to do a full grief counseling program. I’ll help pay the costs out of Dez’s life insurance policy. But all three of you must complete the psychologist’s full recommended timeframe.” I raised my hand to forestall Sam’s snappish retort. “If you don’t”—I raised my voice to speak over her—“then the charges are reinstated, and the case goes to the grand jury.”

  I stood up, shoving the chair back. “I’ll let you think about it. But you only have…” I looked up at the clock. “You have three hours to decide before Detective Davenport comes back in. He has my and Jake’s statements, along with the security cameras that picked up Joyce in my building and at my door, and the closed-circuit camera with Sam’s car and license plate. The university’s security has images of Joyce entering my classroom.”

  I tipped my head at Ted, who’d collected that evidence, but hadn’t added it to the original report Linda opened for me after my guitar was smashed. Ted dropped his gaze back to the table, understanding he, too, could be charged with obstruction.

  I nodded my head once. Only one thing left to say to the family I’d been clo
ser to than my own. “Goodbye.”

  I exited the room, closing the door behind me. I made it a few feet down the hall before I tipped my head back and closed my eyes, and tried to stop shaking. Someone leaned against the wall next to me. No, not someone. My eyes opened, and I gazed up into Jake’s beautiful face. My hand rose to cup his cheek and he turned his face, pressing a kiss against my palm.

  “You heard?”

  He nodded. “You’re a strong woman, Lauryn.”

  “Not strong enough to tell you how I feel about you.”

  Jake pressed his fingertip to my lips. “Hold that thought.”

  “No, Jake, I need to tell you that I lo—”

  He kissed me, his tongue thrusting into my mouth with the intent to own me. When he pulled back, my eyes fluttered open, and I stared up into the hard planes of his face, his eyes unfathomable behind his heavy lids.

  “Ryn!”

  I started, stiffening at Sam’s voice. Jake lifted his head to track her progress.

  “I’m glad I caught you.” She huffed for a minute, her eyes filled with tears. “I needed to tell you I’m sorry. I messed up, not just twenty years of friendship, but Dez’s last wish.”

  Jake stiffened beside me. Before I had time to process how to respond to him, Sam grabbed my hand.

  “He loved you. And he told me he should have listened to your wishes about kids. He just always thought you’d have more time together.”

  Sam’s words were freeing. I wished Dez and I had been smarter—and not fallen prey to our parents’ expectations—but we’d been young. So sure we had a lifetime together.

  Sam looked up at the ceiling, her eyes filling with tears. “I’m sorry for the way I reacted when you met Jake, then at the tree lighting.” She wiped away a tear as she smiled.

  “You worried about your mom’s reaction,” I said, the last of the pieces snapping into place. “Because she wanted Dez and me to be forever. Or me mourning Dez forever.”

  “Yeah.” Sam wiped away another tear. “I got scared when she went after you in my car. I thought Dad had her under control after she destroyed your classroom, but…you’re right. The grief has eaten away at her. She needs help. We should have gotten it for her. I’ll make sure she takes the deal you made for her. And thank you for that.” Her voice softened.

  Jake remained quiet, at my side. When I looked up, he wore a pensive, almost sad expression. I leaned into his side. “You okay?” I asked.

  “Pretty sure I should be asking you that,” he said on a sigh.

  “I am,” I said. Jake met me at the police station, even after I frustrated him this morning. His being here, now, meant everything.

  “You seem good for and to her.” Sam said, meeting Jake’s eyes. “I know…I know it’s going to take time for us to be friends again, if we ever can be.” Her voice broke as her gaze turned back toward me. “But, I want you to be happy.”

  Sam pivoted and strode back down the hall toward the conference room I’d exited a few minutes earlier.

  I walked forward and pressed the button to the elevator. Jake didn’t follow. I glanced back, worry eating its way through my stomach.

  When the elevator dinged, Jake charged forward, grabbing my hand on the way. He tugged me into the car and stabbed his finger at the lobby button.

  “We’re getting out of here.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked, suspicion building as Jake turned onto I-90 toward Bellevue.

  “The airport.”

  “I can’t leave! I’m in the middle of classes.”

  “Preslee Jennings—Asher’s sister-in-law—will cover them for you this week. She’s been interested in the classes since she attended the one at the beginning of the semester. Said this would give her the chance to see what you do.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, irritated at this blatant takeover of my life, my work. Jake laid his hand on top of my fisted ones. “Please, Ryn. I don’t do spontaneous well. Ever. But I need to do this with you now.”

  I snapped my mouth shut, unsure where he was taking me—why he was taking me. The antsy feeling in my chest built. I drew in a deep breath and did something I hadn’t in years: I trusted Jake. The only way to ever get past my hang-ups with Dez, to fully embrace a life with Jake—if that was what he wanted—was to believe he’d continue to care about my emotional needs.

  He parked the car and came around to open my door. He assisted me out and, still holding my hand, led me toward a sleek, white airplane.

  “Private jet?” I asked as he led me up the five steps. “No wonder we didn’t go to Sea-Tac.”

  A flight attendant smiled at us. “Welcome, Mr. Etsam, Ms. Hudson. Your luggage has been stowed and the pilot’s been through precheck. Both he and our copilot gave me the thumbs-up once you’re settled.”

  Jake nodded at her, his eyes distant. I trailed behind him as he led me to wide, comfortable seats in the middle of the plane. He motioned for me to choose my seat. I settled into an aisle chair and Jake took the seat next to me.

  “Jake, we need to talk.”

  He took my hand and squeezed it. “We will. When we get there.”

  “Where’s ‘there?’”

  He rubbed his fingers across his nose. “I don’t want to tell you.” He stuttered through the words, something I hadn’t heard him do in weeks.

  Nerves. But what did Jake have to be nervous about?

  I bit my lip and looked out the far window.

  “Jake, I need to tell you something.”

  His eyes widened and he swallowed twice. “Please, just wait. This is…I want to do this right.”

  Something weighty—dread—settled on my chest.

  “So we can’t talk about Joyce or—”

  Jake shook his head once, his hands in fists on his knees. “Maybe you’d like to nap?” he asked, voice hopeful.

  I licked my lips, unsure how to respond. Once the plane took off, I asked for a blanket and pillow. The flight attendant suggested I go back to the bedroom.

  “There’s a bedroom?”

  Jake glanced up, still tapping his forefinger against his mouth. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

  I gaped at the size and luxury of the space. I crawled onto the bed and glanced back over my shoulder, trying to make my look as inviting as possible.

  “You care to join me?”

  Jake’s lips flipped up in that insouciant grin I loved so much, but he didn’t step into the room. Instead, he shook his head. “Not just yet. I have a couple of calls to make.”

  I flopped down onto the mattress, frustrated, as Jake closed the door. I rolled to my side, staring at the door, wondering if I should go out there, talk to him against his will. Try to fix whatever I broke between us.

  I closed my eyes, willing my mind to function well enough for me to come up with an opener. Why would Jake bring me on a flight if he was angry with me?

  My sleep-deprived brain had no answer, and instead, pulled me into a dreamless slumber.

  I woke later, groggy and uncertain where I was. Jake’s arm lay heavy around my waist, his hips spooning mine. I wiggled back against him to enjoy the comfort of his body heat, the soft joy that built each time I snuggled in closer.

  Jake’s large hand rose, smoothing back my hair.

  “How are you feeling?”

  I stretched. “Still unclear where we’re going.”

  “If you could go anywhere, where would you want to go?” he asked.

  Excitement overrode the concerns I’d fallen asleep with. I turned to face him, eyes wide. “Fiji,” I breathed.

  Jake dipped his head in affirmation. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” His brow wrinkled and he shrugged. “A bit early, yet.”

  “This is by far and away my coolest vacay ever.” I threw my arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

  Jake’s eyes darkened and he lowered his head. My skin buzzed in anticipation of this kiss. Afterward, I’d tell him how much I loved him. He’d profess his love for me and this trip would be
one of the highlights of my life.

  Instead, a sharp, tinny voice spilt through the overhead PA system. “Mr. Etsam, Ms. Hudson, please return to your seats in the main cabin. The pilot is starting his descent.”

  Jake flung back the covers with a grumble. He pulled on his jeans, buttoning them and then bent down to slip his feet into his shoes. He ran his hands through his hair, tousling the strands into further sexy disarray.

  He offered me his hand, but I shook my head. “Go ahead. I’m going to freshen up a little. I’ll be quick,” I added at Jake’s burgeoning frown.

  After going to the bathroom and washing my hands and face, I tried to tame my sleep-crazed locks. Frustrated, I ended up pulling the whole mass into a topknot.

  I settled into the seat next to Jake, just in time for the actual landing. Jake stopped to thank the pilots as we exited the plane. After a short interval, a Jeep rolled up on the tarmac, and we settled in the backseat.

  “You packed us clothes?”

  “What?” Jake looked up at me, glancing at the lush scenery. He’d been distracted by whatever was on his phone. “No, I didn’t. I called the Neiman Marcus personal shopper Mila uses. She packed us bags of clothes.”

  “You didn’t need to go to that expense,” I said on a sigh.

  Jake ignored my comment, busy typing a response to the incoming texts that flowed faster than the chiming alert.

  After a few minutes, I looked out the window, wishing for some sunglasses against the bright island sun—and to shade my eyes from the tears that refused to blink away.

  Jake brought me to paradise. Maybe as his last good deed before he broke up with me? I wrapped my arms around my waist and wished I knew what he was thinking.

  20

  Jake

  Hours later, I sorted out all the details. Spoke with Murphy, too, finally, just to get his take. I blew out a breath, trying to ease my careening heart. I stepped out onto our private beach as Ryn shifted on her blue-and-white striped chaise, her tanned and toned thigh catching my attention. Blimey, I wanted her. Always would.