The Truest Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 4)

Jack sat up too, his heart beating a mile a minute. “I’m in love with you,” he repeated, now that it was out there. “I’ve been in love with you for years.”

Emery shook her head, her cheeks pale. “No.”

That one word was like taking a fucking bullet. “No?” Jack pushed off the duvet and dove out of bed. He stood over her. “What the hell does that mean?”

She stared up at him, aghast.

No.

She was scared.

Emery was looking at him as if petrified.

“Why?” Jack shook his head, not understanding. “You know we’re great together. Are you holding back to punish me?”

“No.” Em slipped out of bed so the sizable piece of furniture acted as an obstacle between them. “But we had an agreement. You promised that sex would change nothing.”

“An agreement we both knew was bullshit.”

“Jack, you can’t love me,” she snapped.

“Well, tough shit, because I do.” He rounded the bed and scowled as she backed away from him. Jack stopped moving. He held up his hands like he was dealing with a frightened animal. And he got it. He got from everything she’d told him that Emery was terrified to love anyone ever again. But she was already doing it. With her girls. With Iris. With Joey. With the baby in her belly. And whether she wanted to admit it, wit

h Jack.

“I know you’re scared. I know people who were supposed to love you didn’t treat you the way you deserved. And I know I’ve made my mistakes. But you know me, Em. You know me. We’ve known each other from the moment our eyes met across Cooper’s Bar nine years ago.”

He held her gaze, begging her silently to tell him that she loved him too.

Instead, those gorgeous eyes of hers filled with tears and she whispered, “I’m sorry, Jack.”

Agony tightened its awful grip around his chest, like a hot, burning demon with vicious claws that wouldn’t let go. Unable to bear looking at her, Jack dressed quickly and got the hell away from her before he said something he’d later regret.

40

Emery

It was a good thing Ivy had agreed to drive.

We would never have gotten to Balance in Millton otherwise. In fact, it was a surprise to me that the kids were able to take my mind off the horribleness of the last week.

“Does it hurt?” Angeline, a seven-year-old girl whose mother was receiving cancer treatment, asked as she stared at my belly. I’d been answering her questions about my pregnancy for the last five minutes.

I shook my head, wearing a slight smile. “No.”

“Do you feel it moving?”

“Sometimes I feel like there are bubbles in my belly, but I won’t feel Baby really move for maybe another few weeks.”

“How did it get in there?”

Oh crap.

“Emery!” Ivy called my name far louder than necessary since she was right next to me. “Bring Angeline over. Casey here needs a card-playing partner.”

I knew she was trying to save me from the awkward questions. “Cards? You’re teaching Casey to play cards?”

Casey was a rambunctious eight-year-old who’d had childhood leukemia. He was in remission, but his parents felt he should be around kids who had either gone through the same or had family members who had. His near-death experience had made him a little more mature than other kids his age, and they were afraid he was struggling to make friends he could connect with.