“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 an eyebrow 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 she was mad as hell than 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 an eyebrow and waited. Nothing was ever “easy” and “gentle” between him 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. They didn’t exactly mix and rarely saw eye to eye.
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 every last 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, 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.
She stepped back and cleared her throat. “You planning on spending the night?”
“Excuse me?” Jake answered carefully, not understanding her angle.
Raine licked her lips, the heightened color in her cheeks a healthy pink in an otherwise pale face. She pointed toward his bag. “Did you pack extra boxers and your toothbrush?”
“No.” Jake shook his head. “This is just…”
She turned before he could finish and indicated that he follow her inside as she strolled down the hall with the puppy still in her arms, her hips swaying gently. He couldn’t help himself. His eyes roved her figure hungrily, taking in every inch, from the top of her head to the bottom of her bare feet. His mouth tightened, a frown settling across his brow because he sure as hell didn’t like what he saw. She was too thin. Too pale.
Too much like the ghosts he’d seen wandering the base at Fort Hood—war widows and widowers, distraught families, friends. All of them had that look. Christ, he saw it every day he looked in the mirror, but Raine…damn, he wanted more for her.
Then maybe I should have done something about it. He winced at the thought, mostly because it was the truth.
The house was brightly lit, the sun that shone in through the windows creating warmth against the rich oak floors. For a second, Jake faltered as the heaviness of the moment slipped over him. So many memories he’d tried to forget. He’d helped his brother restore the entire main floor the last time they were home on leave nearly two years ago. It was the last time all three of them had been together.
Voices echoed in his head, echoes from a past that would haunt him forever, and he forced himself to move, noting that the kitchen sported a complete redo—gleaming antique-cream-colored granite, dark chocolate cabinets, and shiny stainless-steel appliances. No doubt a gift from his parents, because the last he knew, working at the youth center in the neighboring city didn’t pay much. Not that it mattered. Aside from the sizable life-insurance settlement Raine had been entitled to, the Edwards family looked after their own.
She would never want for anything.
Raine had been a part of their lives from the time they were kids. Raised for the most part by her Aunt Jeanine, she’d been on her own since the age of sixteen, when her
aunt died. Her mother, Gloria, traveled extensively, doing missionary work for the church. It was mighty charitable of her, though Jake had never understood the need some people had to help others when it meant neglecting their own.