The Pursuit of Jesse (21 page)

T
HERE
. F
INISHED
.

Jesse stepped back from Sarah’s front door and off the porch to examine the end result. With a critical eye, he looked over every individual angle and line of the exterior of Sarah’s house. Then he took a deep breath and took in the whole of it.

“Looks damned good, if I do say so myself,” he muttered.

Then he glanced at his watch. It was almost seven o’clock and the sun was dipping low on the horizon. He was cutting it close. The water taxi was scheduled to pick him up at eight. He knew he should get back to Garrett’s and pack, but he couldn’t resist going through the house one last time.

Despite the wedding happening this weekend, Sarah had somehow managed to move in a fair amount of her and Brian’s things. Movers were scheduled to bring up all of their furniture and the rest of their boxes on Monday. If all went according to plan, she and Brian would be sleeping in their new house by midweek. He could easily visualize how Sarah’s furniture would look, Brian’s collection of baseball caps hanging on his bedroom wall, family pictures, towels, knickknacks. She’d turn this house into a home in no time.

Walking from one room to the next, he relived every moment, both good and bad that had taken place here
over the past several months. Sarah…painting here…cleaning there, smiling, laughing and talking with him. Zach and Brian, hanging around and helping.

Finally, back at the front door, he turned and studied the fireplace. He’d done okay. In fact, he was proud of all he’d accomplished here, but as he was imagining Sarah and Brian living here, going about their daily routines without him, emotion clogged his throat. This house felt like home.

But it wasn’t his home. It couldn’t be.

He tossed the keys Sarah had given him onto the kitchen counter and went outside. After crossing the yard, he looked back at the house one last time. There it was. Sarah’s dream come true. Mission accomplished. Time to move on. He took the walk from Sarah’s house to Garrett’s one last time. Garrett came out of his workshop just as Jesse hit the steps to the front porch. “Hey.” He nodded at his brother.

“Hey, yourself.” Garrett caught up with him.

They walked inside, and Jesse immediately noticed the quieter-than-normal house. “Where is everyone?”

“Erica’s at Duffy’s and the boys are at a birthday-party sleepover at Alex’s house. Alex’s sister Nikki is babysitting David up at the Andersens’.”

He’d hoped he’d have a chance to see Brian, Zach and David one last time, but maybe not saying goodbye was for the best.

“I went by Sarah’s today,” Garrett said. “The house looks beautiful. That gingerbread…nice touch.”

“Thanks.” Jesse hung up his jacket.

“You know you can stay with us as long as you want—”

“No, Garrett, I can’t.” Jesse went into the kitchen and glanced around. He was going to miss this place,
too. “Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate you and Erica helping me get back on my feet, but it’s time for me to stand on those feet alone.”

“So rent an apartment or house here on the island,” Garrett said. “There’s enough work to keep you busy for at least a year. Some woman just bought the old Draeger mansion and is looking for a contractor to turn it into a bed-and-breakfast inn. Hell, I could even use some help with the orders that seem to be coming left and right.”

“I’ve already overstayed my welcome. Hell, I haven’t stayed this long in one place since…Chicago.”

“You’re not that rolling stone anymore, Jesse.”

“I’m different in some ways. The same in others.” Jesse held his brother’s gaze. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll wait until tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Sure.” Why not?

“All right, then,” he said, seemingly satisfied. “I told Erica I’d keep her company at Duffy’s. Want to join us?”

Hell, no.
The last thing he wanted was to see people. “I’m kind of shot, bro.” He glanced down at his dirty construction clothes. “Need to take a shower. Would like a good night’s sleep.”

“Okay.” For an awkward moment, Garrett stood there, and then he suddenly reached out and gave Jesse a hug, almost as if he knew this might be his last opportunity. “See you in the morning.”

The front door closed and silence settled over the house. It should’ve been peaceful. It wasn’t. Jesse had grown so accustomed to the sound of children’s voices, to the family banter, to the noise of life in this home, that the quiet seemed all wrong. But he refused to go to
Duffy’s. He refused to go to Sarah’s apartment or her house. God only knew what would happen if he saw her tonight of all nights.

Maybe he should stay until morning to say goodbye to everyone. Maybe that was the right thing. He was so much closer to his brother than he’d ever been. Didn’t Garrett deserve as much? What about all the others who had come to mean so much to him? Erica. Brian and Zach. Little Davie.

Sarah.

The memories of her face-to-face. Her scent. The feel of her skin nearly overwhelmed him. Suddenly, he knew he’d never be able to say goodbye to her face-to-face. Never. He didn’t have it in him.

Stick to the plan. Leave tonight. Quietly.
Even Garrett would have to agree that the word
sure
didn’t qualify as a promise.
Make it easy on the boys. Make it easy on Sarah.

T
HE WEDDING AND RECEPTION
had gone off without a hitch, that is, once Megan had recovered from her near breakdown. The cake had been cut. The bouquet and garter belt thrown. The photographer had called it a night. The wedding guests were busy ripping up the dance floor. And the Mirabelle Island Inn staff would take care of the cleanup. Sarah’s job here tonight was finished.

She caught Megan’s eye as the bride was walking onto the dance floor and waved goodbye. They’d tie together any loose ends tomorrow.

Megan hiked up her skirts and came rushing toward her. “Are you leaving?”

“Yep. Everything’s under control. All you have to do is have fun the rest of the night.”

Megan grabbed Sarah’s hands. “Thank you, Sarah. This wouldn’t have happened without you.”

It was her job, but she’d never forget this wedding. She gave Megan a quick hug.

Brandon came to Megan’s side. “Thanks, Sarah. For everything.”

“You come back safe and sound, okay, Brandon?”

“I’ll do my best.”

They went into each other’s arms and floated onto the dance floor to a soft, slow song, and Sarah made a wish that they’d be happy together. Then she glanced at her watch. It was later than she’d hoped and Brian’s party at Alex Andersen’s was already in full swing.

Time to find Jesse.

Chances were he’d still be at the house. He’d been working such long hours this last week, trying to get done before the movers came on Monday. Sarah ran to her apartment, changed into jeans and a T-shirt, piled a few more boxes on the back of her golf cart and drove up the hill.

She’d been so busy with the final preparations for Megan and Brandon’s wedding and then the actual groom’s dinner and wedding that she hadn’t been to her house for several days. She couldn’t wait to find out how close Jesse was to being finished.

By the time she came to her block, it was almost dark. As her house came into view, her foot slipped off the accelerator and the cart rolled to a stop. “Oh, my God,” she breathed. “I can’t believe it.”

The house and yard looked as idyllic as a picture from a magazine. With the lilacs in full bloom, the spirea bush gushing with little white flowers and the irises popping up in purple glory, the house and yard
looked better than when the old couple who’d built the home had lived here.

Jesse had not only finished painting the exterior, he’d also bought pots of marigolds and geraniums for her front steps and hung Boston ferns from her porch. But it was the sight of the white gingerbread trim that caused her to suck in her breath. He’d surprised her completely by creating arches between her porch posts, inserting a triangular section for her gable and custom fitting embellishments on her front storm door.

Jesse had made her dream come true.

Pushing down the accelerator again, she drove the golf cart up the sidewalk to the house and stopped in front of the steps. Glancing up, she got a close look at the trim he’d not only painstakingly tooled, but primed and painted. She went up to the front door and ran her hands along the intricately carved storm-door trim. Smooth as silk. “Unbelievable.”

It would’ve taken her years to save up enough to buy the premade trim. She couldn’t imagine the time this had taken him. How many hours he’d spent all along with the intention of surprising her. When she turned and spotted the swing he’d hung from the porch ceiling, tears pooled in her eyes.

He’d said he didn’t belong here. He’d said he didn’t belong in her life. Well, if nothing else proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that he did belong with her, this was it.

The pitching machine he’d fixed up for the boys was one thing. All this was nothing short of a true labor of love. Had he been in front of her in that moment, she wasn’t sure if she’d hit him or kiss him senseless. Probably one right after the other.

“Jesse?” she called, running into the house. “Jesse, are you here?”

Not a sound. He was gone for the day. Then she noticed the spare key she’d given him lying on the kitchen counter. “He just finished with the house,” she whispered to herself. “He has to still be on Mirabelle. He has to be.”

Quickly, Sarah carried the boxes into her house and then marched right back to the golf cart. She had a few things to say to Jesse, and if she had her way, he would not only be helping her move in, he’d be moving in with her.

I
MPATIENTLY
, S
ARAH KNOCKED
on Garrett’s door. When no one answered, she rang the doorbell. Still, no one came. There were no lights on in the house and the exterior floodlights were lit. That meant Garrett and Erica were at Duffy’s, but where was Jesse?

She raced back down the hill and dropped in at the Nail. No Jesse. Panicking now, she ran down the street, pushed open the door to Duffy’s and stalked to where Garrett was sitting at his usual place at the bar. “He’s not at my house or yours. He’s not at the Nail. Where’s Jesse?”

Garrett studied her. “You sure he’s not at our house?”

“No one came to the door.”

“Dammit! He promised.”

“What? You think he might’ve left. Tonight.”

“It’s possible.”

“No,” she whispered. “Give me your keys, Garrett. He’s here. He’s got to be here.”

He pulled his keys out of his front jeans pocket and hesitated. “Maybe you shouldn’t go back up there. If
he’s there, I’m not so sure tonight’s a good night to talk to him. And if he’s gone…”

“I have to know, one way or another.”

“Sarah, wait until tomorrow.”

Erica came toward them and stood with her hands on her hips on the other side of the bar. “Don’t listen to him, Sarah.”

“Erica—”

“Don’t.” She yanked the keys from Garrett’s hand. “If you’d listened to the advice you’re giving Sarah, I’d have left for Chicago and might never have looked back.”

Garrett sighed, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Go,” Erica said, tossing Sarah the keys to their home. “Say what you have to, do what you have to. You may not get another chance.”

J
ESSE STEPPED OUT
of the shower, ran a towel over his hair and down his body and then wrapped it around his waist. He brushed his teeth and then gathered a few of his toiletries and threw them in the small leather travel bag.

He looked around the room, making sure he’d left it at least as clean, if not cleaner, as when he’d first arrived on Mirabelle. This was it. Throw on some clean clothes and he was ready to go. He hesitated as a deep, pervasive sadness swept through him. He was going to miss Zach and little David, Garrett and Erica. Sarah and Brian? He couldn’t even think about them.

Dammit. Don’t do this to yourself. You know this is the only way.
Angry now, he grabbed his small bag, opened the bathroom door and stopped dead in his tracks. She was there, standing in his doorway. “Sarah, what the— You shouldn’t have come.” He threw the rest
of his toiletries into the fully packed duffel bag on the floor. “You need to leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Neither are you.”

“Last I checked this was a free country. I’ll go wherever the hell I want.”

“You mean run away?”

He glared at her, hoping to push her away.

“’Cause that’s what you’d be doing if you leave Mirabelle.” Undaunted, she stepped toward him.

“I’m not running away,” he said. “I’m just doing what’s best for everyone. Leaving without a fuss.”

“Best for everyone else? Or best for you? I want you to stay. I don’t want you to go.”

“Sarah…” Wanting her so badly, he closed his eyes. He couldn’t look at her. Not if he had any hope of walking away from this without hurting her.

“One kiss,” she whispered. “One last kiss.”

Her lips pressed against his and he knew it would never be enough. One kiss, hell, one entire night, would never be enough. “Don’t,” he groaned. “Don’t make this more difficult than it already is for either of us.”

“Oh, that’s exactly what I’m going to do, Jesse. Make this as hard as I possibly can for you.”

He could feel her there in front of him. Her heat. Smell her. Flowers and fresh spring air. “Sarah—”

She touched him. Her hands on his arms. His chest. Up his neck and on his cheek. He turned his face and ran his mouth along her palm, but he wouldn’t kiss her. No matter what, he would not kiss her.

Then her mouth was on his cheek and he pulled his face away, keeping his eyes firmly closed. Sweetly and slowly, as if they had all the time in the world, she kissed his neck. Then she moved lower, over his col
larbone and down to his chest. Her tongue laved his nipple, her fingers dug into his side.

“You’re killing me.”

“Good,” she breathed against him. “It’s nothing less than you deserve. If you leave Mirabelle you’ll be killing me.”

He heard the sound of a match and he could no longer stand it. He opened his eyes and beheld the most beautiful vision he’d ever seen. Sarah was standing in front of him naked, her clothes pooled at her feet. Candlelight flickered in her eyes, on her pale breasts, her belly, the dark shadow at the apex of her thighs. It was all he could do to breathe. “There’s a water taxi waiting. I need to—”