Huge round eyes the color of Crystal Lake on a stormy day, widened, while the small bow mouth fell open in shock. Her skin was pale, the kiss of summer long faded and the angles were sharper, more defined. She looked fragile. And beautiful. And delicate. And…
“You cut your hair,” was all he managed to say—barely.
Her fingers twisted in the uneven, ebony ends that fell a few inches past her jaw but didn’t quite touch her shoulders. It was a reflex action and damn, if it didn’t tug on the cold strings still attached to his heart. She pulled on a long, curling piece, tucked it behind her ear and her hand settled against her chest, tightened into a fist.
She wore a pink T-shirt, Salem’s Lot etched across her breasts in bold, black font. The old, worn jeans that hugged her hips looked dog eared and done for, the ends rolled up past delicate ankles, leaving her feet bare, her toenails painted in chipped, blue polish.
For a moment there was nothing but silence and then she moistened her lips, and exhaled slowly. “Your hair is longer than it’s ever been.”
The sound of her voice was like a returning memory, one that filled the emptiness inside and stretched thin over his heart.
He nodded, not quite knowing what to say. He’d officially left the military six months ago and hair had been the last thing on his mind. The closely cropped style he’d sported his entire adult life was no more. Now it curled past his ears, the dark brown locks looking more like his buddy Cain’s, than what Jake was used to.
“It’s been…a long time.” Her words were halting, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to speak.
He held her gaze for a moment and then glanced away. The old wicker chair still rocked gently in the breeze and the golden bundle of fur that had shot out of Raine’s house was sniffing the ground near his jeep.
“Yeah,” was all he managed and even that was hard.
“Nice that you made time for your father.” A touch of frost was in her voice now and he glanced back sharply.
Awkward silence fell between the two of them as he stared down into eyes that were hard. Had he expected anything less?
“He’s been sick for a while now.” Her chin jutted out. “You know that right?” Accusation rang in her words.
A spark of anger lit inside him. So this was how it was going to be. “Yeah, Raine. I know.”
Her mouth thinned and a flush crept into her pale cheeks. “Well why the hell did you wait so long to come home to us?”
“I couldn’t get away,” he said flatly.
She arched a brow and shivered. “Couldn’t? Or wouldn’t.”
He took a step closer and reiterated. “Couldn’t.”
He knew part of it was bullshit. If he’d really wanted to come home earlier he could have. The guys would have understood. But he’d never admit that it was only his father’s health taking a wrong turn that had finally brought him back. Because that would mean admitting the reason he’d stayed away for so long was right in front of him.
All five feet four inches of her.
Her toe tapped against the shiny, wooden planks at her feet and her eyes narrowed into a glare that told him everything. Raine Edwards was pissed.
She cleared her throat and raised her chin.
She was more than pissed.
Jake squared his shoulders. This was good. He’d rather her mad as hell then weepy and soft. Mad he could handle. Soft and needy, not so much. Not from her anyway.
“You going to invite me in or are we going to have it out, here on the porch?” Jake arched a brow and waited. Nothing was ever “easy” and “gentle” between himself and Raine. There had always been that friction.
She and his brother Jesse had been like yin and yang, while Jake and Raine were like oil and water.
From the time they were kids—how many nights had Jesse given up and gone to bed long after the two of them argued over the most minute detail, of whatever the hell it was they happened to be discussing? From Scrabble to politics to music and everything in between.
Raine’s mouth thinned and she stepped past him, clapped her hands, and yelled “Gibson” as she did so. The puppy’s head shot up, its round body quivering as it answered her call. The dog ran toward the house, chasing a leaf as it did so, weaving an intricate path until it climbed the stairs and barked at her feet.
She scooped the puppy into her arms and laughed as it struggled to lick her face. Something inside him thawed in that moment. Something that he’d encased in a wall of ice. It was painful and the dread in his gut doubled. He’d known this was a bad idea, but it was a bad idea he needed to see through. He owed it to Jesse even if he was a year and a half late.
And he owed it to Raine after the way he’d left things.