Nobody But You (25 page)

Jacob nodded slowly. “I'm getting that. We need to talk, Sophie.”

She had to ignore how the sound of her name on his lips always made her ache. Needing something to do with herself, she grabbed the last donut. “I'll go first,” she said. “Were you laughing at me this whole time? Was it all just one big joke between you and Lucas?”

He studied her face a moment and then set down his coffee. He started to take the donut from her hand, stopping when she let out a sound that might have been construed as a growl. Changing tactics, he reached for her free hand instead.

She pulled it back, which she realized made her look like a three-year-old, but she was furious. And upset. And…shamefully embarrassed—a bad combination for her, always had been.

“Soph,” he said in that low, gruff morning voice, the one that until fifteen minutes ago would have made her melt.

Well, okay, so she was still melting, but that only made her angrier. God, she'd been such a fool, a complete idiot, and the worst part was, she should've seen it coming.

Nothing good came of falling for someone.

Nothing.

Ever.

“I gotta go,” she whispered.

“After we talk.”

“Can't,” she said. “I'm working now and then I'm gone.”

He froze. “You're leaving Cedar Ridge?”

“No, just you.” She turned to walk off, but he caught her and turned her around to face him.

“Hear me out. You owe me that much, Sophie. And then, if you still want to dump my sorry ass, have at it.”

She gave him a push. “Fine. But hands off.” She couldn't think when he touched her.

He lifted his hands but didn't back away. “I can see you've decided some things on your own about me,” he said, “but you're wrong. Very wrong.”

She just stared at him, doing her best to remain composed. She'd signed on to work the breakfast, help with cleanup, and get the beach cleared by noon. That meant two more hours of having to keep it together.

Or at least the pretense of.

She could do that. Hell, she'd held it together for much longer, under far worse circumstances—such as her entire childhood. And her marriage to Lucas…

She was a master at holding it together. So this, with Jacob, should be easy. Totally easy.

Now, if only she believed that… “Please move,” she said. “I have work to do.”

“In a minute.” He lowered his voice. “We have an audience. Come back home with me and—”

“No.” Hugging herself with one arm, still clenching the rest of her donut, she shook her head. “I'm on the clock.”

“Fine. Shift over.” He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, and not giving her much of a choice, pulled her from beneath the canopy and toward his cabin.

“Don't even think about it,” she said, digging her heels in. She wasn't going to his place, no way in hell. He'd talk and she'd melt, and she'd end up in his amazing bed beneath his luscious bod, and she'd hate herself.

He quickly and easily redirected without argument, taking them down the beach instead, far past the event, until the sounds from it faded away.

Now all she could hear was the occasional squawk of a bird, the chatter of a frantic squirrel. Insects humming. The water gently sloshing onto the rocky shore.

Oh, and the sound of her own heart breaking.

When they got to a secluded little spot Jacob presumably felt was a good enough place, he turned to face her and gestured for her to sit on a fallen log at the water's edge.

She shook her head. She'd eaten the rest of her donut on the walk here and now it sat in her gut like a heavy rock.

“Please sit,” he said, sounding so weary that she took a look at him, her first real look since seeing Lucas.

He was too good to show his mood in his body posture. He stood there like he always did, calm, watchful, a little dangerous, like he was locked and loaded and ready for anything. And she knew that was probably true. But a closer look showed her that his mouth was set to grim, and he had shadows beneath his eyes, suggesting he was beyond tired.

That's what happens when you are a sex fiend, she thought, and then had a brief hot flash because she was one, too, with him. For him…

And since that made her knees weak, she sat.

He surprised her by not sitting next to her but instead crouching in front of her and taking her hand. “I didn't know,” he said. “When I met you, I mean. I had no idea that the resort's attorney was your ex-husband.”

She'd already figured out that much for herself. “The resort's attorney and someone you went to school with.”

“True,” he said. “But you're going to have to trust me when I say we didn't hang in the same circles. We were never friends, and that hasn't changed.”

“But you knew he was the resort's attorney, if not when you first got back, certainly later. When did you find out?”

He didn't move an inch, but she sensed a wince that he couldn't quite hide from his eyes. “Soph—”

“When?”

He held her gaze in his for an interminable beat and then let out a breath. “Hangover day.”

She stared at him as that sank in. The day she'd thrown up on him—day
two
. Rising to her feet, she started to walk past him.

He caught her by the arms. “I didn't tell you right away because at first I didn't see how it mattered.”

She made a scoffing sound. “You didn't tell me at all! And we talked about him, more than once.” Embarrassment heated her cheeks. “You never even blinked!”

“Fine,” he said grimly. “I should have told you. I know I should have. But I didn't, because as I learned with my family, sometimes standing by your opinion of someone doesn't matter so much as keeping your mouth shut and minding your own business.”

She stared at him. “That doesn't even make sense!”

“Why do people keep saying that?” he asked, tossing up his hands. He shook his head. “Put yourself in my shoes, Sophie.”

“But that's the thing.
I'd
have told you,” she said. “I'd have told you that your lying, cheating, scum-ball ex was my attorney.”

“Not
my
attorney,” he said. “The
resort's
attorney, a guy who was in place when I got here. A guy I had nothing to do with hiring, a guy whose work no one can fault.”

She imagined the smoke coming out her ears. “And back to that whole keeping your mouth shut and minding your own business crap,” she said. “Seriously? Your family would hate that, and for the record, so do I.”

“Except I was never able to mind my own business when it came to you,” he said. “Not once.”

But she called bullshit on that. “I've been with someone I can't trust,” she said. “You know that. What you don't know is that I can't do it again. I
won't
. I'm making better choices for myself now, Jacob. I have to.”

There was something in his eyes now, something to go along with the regret. A flash of anger to match hers.

“So tried and hanged without discussion?” he asked quietly. “Is that it?”

The barb hit home, but she just shook her head and walked away.

And this time, he let her go.

W
hen Jacob got back to the event, breakfast had ended and their guests were all packing up and leaving in small groups. He couldn't reconcile the normalcy of the scene with the wild ripping and shredding going on inside him. His heart seemed to be shattering inside his chest.

He could still feel the way Sophie had quivered with emotion as she'd stepped away from him. Their eyes had met for that one beat, and the hurt in her expression had been a sucker punch to his gut.

And then she'd turned her back on him. He'd stood there and watched as the best thing to ever happen to him walked away.

And it'd been his own fault.

Since they'd given resort staff the day off, his brothers and sister were on cleanup detail.

And Sophie.

She was on her knees in the wild grass, rolling up one of the canopies. Her head was bent so he couldn't see her expression, but he had no problem reading the fuck-off 'tude emanating from her in waves.

He stood there in rare indecision for a beat, then started toward her. When he was two steps in, she lifted her head and leveled him with a don't-even-think-about-it look that only made him all the more determined. She'd clearly tried and hung him on the assumption that he'd withheld information from her for the sole purpose of hurting her. That she'd lumped him in with her ex really sucked.

But before he could reach her, Chris stepped in front of him. “Got a minute?” his old friend asked. “I'm about to get on the road and wanted to…”

Jacob watched as over Chris's shoulder Sophie began directing the takedown of the rest of the rental equipment, pointing to the back of Gray's truck.

She'd walked out of his world, but she was still running it. That was when he realized Chris was looking at him, waiting on an answer to a question he hadn't heard. “I…Shit.” Jacob shoved his hand through his hair and grimaced. “I'm sorry. What?”

Chris smiled a little sympathetically. “She got you dizzy?”

“Something like that.”

Chris nodded. “She's pretty amazing, you know. You're a lucky guy.”

Funny, but he wasn't feeling so lucky at the moment.

“I'd wish you good luck with her,” Chris said. “But given how she was looking at you last night and then how you two vanished, you don't need it.” He slid the duffel bag off his shoulders and handed it to Jacob.

Jacob stared down at it, his heart suddenly thumping hard in his chest. He knew this bag.

It'd belonged to Brett.

He opened it and stared down at Brett's personal effects. His diver's watch, which Jacob had given him for his birthday seven years ago. The beat-up DS he'd played to distraction. An old, battered book of poems that Brett hadn't actually read because he hated poetry, but it had belonged to his mom, so he'd carried it all around the planet. His lucky Dodgers hat.

That was it, Brett's life in a damn nutshell, the only things left to honor a good man who was sorely missed.

Jacob was glad to have the bag and the memories that went with them even as it pained him to imagine Hud or his mom getting a bag of his things. Through a lump in his throat, he lifted his head and met Chris's gaze.

“You really didn't hear a word I said, did you?” Chris asked. “I told you that I don't know why they sent Brett's belongings to me. I was listed second. You were first. It was a mistake, and I knew you'd want to have his things.”

Jacob nodded and shouldered the bag, which felt like a million pounds. Brett hadn't had any family. He'd had no one but his unit. Jacob had felt the same way, which was part of what had bonded them so tightly. He opened his mouth to thank Chris for bringing the bag all this way, but he found he couldn't speak past the lump in his throat, the one that felt as big as a regulation-size football.

Chris clasped him on the shoulder. They hugged, and then Chris was gone. Jacob stood there, registering the low hum of everyday noise in the background. The water lapping the shore. The slight wind rustling the pines. The talk and laughter of the people nearby. A boat motor.

Normal life. And it was going on around him as if completely unaware he'd stepped off the merry-go-round.

He wanted to set the bag aside and force Sophie to talk to him. At the very least he could help finish the cleanup. He wanted to jump back into that “normal life,” the one that had just started to fit him like a glove.

But it was like a switch had been flipped inside of him and normal no longer applied.

“Where's Jacob?”

Sophie turned at the question. The last of everything was loaded up and she was just about out of there. Her head hurt. Her body hurt.

Her heart hurt.

And Hud stood at her side, looking around. “Have you seen him?” he asked.

Yes, she had, and she was trying not to think about it.

“He was saying good-bye to Chris,” Kenna piped up. “And it looked pretty serious. Chris handed him a duffel bag that apparently belonged to someone named Brett. He died in the line of duty during an incident where both Jacob and Chris were injured and was like a brother to Jacob.” She winced a little and met Hud's eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“How do you know all this?” Hud asked.

“Because I eavesdropped.”

Sophie hadn't been close enough to eavesdrop, but she'd been able to read Jacob's expression.

Devastation. “He thought of Brett as a brother,” she said quietly. “He feels like he's lost two brothers in his lifetime.”

Hud blew out a breath and closed his eyes. “I haven't been easy on him.”

Sophie thought of Jacob saying “I love you” so easily. How his eyes had told her he'd meant it. How he'd been willing to take what she could offer without asking or expecting more, all while giving Sophie everything he had. And she'd taken. And taken. Until she'd gotten spooked and let Lucas shake her, let him put doubts in her head. Doubts Jacob hadn't deserved. Yet she'd used those doubts to walk away, to keep her heart safe.

Safe but not happy—in spite of the fact that she'd promised herself she was over that. “I haven't been easy on him either,” she whispered. “I need to fix that.”

“Me too,” Hud said.

Sophie nodded. Spinning on a heel, she headed to the cabin. To her great relief, she found Jacob in his room, zipping up one of his duffel bags. “Hey,” she said.

“Hey.” But he didn't look at her, and she felt her heart lurch. “What are you doing?”

He shouldered the bag and turned to her. “What does it look like?”

“Okay,” she said. “I'm going to give you an ass pass because we both know I was an ass first.”

He shouldered the second duffel bag like neither weighed a thing. The irony wasn't lost on her. For a very long time now, this was how he'd survived, by packing light, both physically and metaphorically.

But she also knew that he was fooling himself if he thought he could just leave. He loved it here in Cedar Ridge, and no matter what his grim, closed-off expression told the world, he wanted to be here with his family.

And hopefully her. “Don't go,” she said. “Not like this. Your family—”

“I have to go.”

Her heart stuttered to a stop. Her entire world stuttered to a stop. “Why?”

“I called in. Cut my leave short. I'm shipping out to finish my tour.”

“You tell everyone?”

“My mom knows. I'm going to see her on the way out. I just this very second texted Hud, so he's hopefully on his way over.”

“I was with him,” she said. “He's…giving me a minute with you.” Or so she hoped. “Jacob, what about after? When you're finished. You're coming back, right?”

He turned to look around the cabin as if making sure he wasn't leaving anything behind. Which they both knew was ridiculous. He was always careful to leave nothing of himself behind. She tried not to resent that since this was all her own doing. “Jacob.”

“The way I get through this is by not looking too far ahead,” he said.

She swallowed hard. “I'm sorry I didn't listen to you on the beach. I'd like to listen now.”

“I don't have time.”

She nodded as her poor, abused heart took another hard tumble. “What about the cabin?”

He held out his hand. For an instant she thought he was reaching out to touch her, but he was handing her a set of keys.

She stared down at them and then lifted her head in confusion.

“You hate that boat,” he said. “The cabin will be just sitting here. Stay in it. Make yourself at home.”

Yes. Absolutely. If he'd been staying in it with her…But she didn't need his pity. And more than that, she was having a hard time with this conversation at all. Her ribs felt like they'd shrunk and were constricting her breathing. Her heart hurt, physically hurt. Shaking her head, she pushed his hand away.

“Sophie, don't be stubborn on this. The cabin will be empty—”

“I know.” She didn't need the reminder. “I'll be fine, but thanks.”

He looked at her for a long beat, nodded, and walked around her to the door. She didn't turn to watch him, couldn't believe he was just walking away—

“Soph.”

She whirled around and found him there, right there in front of her. The man moved like a cat. He touched her face, his own carefully blank. Then he leaned in, brushed his mouth to hers, and was gone.

She boarded the boat in a fog. Not wanting to see Jacob drive away, she went directly belowdecks. She didn't hear his truck start and figured he was waiting for Hud.

Didn't mean she had to wait. She went straight to the tiny galley and attempted to light the sole burner. “Please,” she begged it.

And surprise, surprise, it went
click, click, click
and…turned on. One thing going her way…She pulled out her pan. She needed a double grilled cheese sandwich stat, with a tall chocolate milk on the side. Maybe laced.

Cursing the small quarters, she pulled out the bread and the rest of the ingredients, during which she remembered a question Jacob had asked her all those weeks ago now.

Why did she stay on the boat?

If he'd asked her even yesterday, she would have stopped and said she honest to God didn't know. And yet here she was, constantly bitching about her circumstances. So why hadn't she done anything about it?

If he'd asked her today, just now, she'd have known the answer. Just as he hadn't thought he deserved his family, she hadn't believed she deserved to be happy.

But she did. She deserved that very much, and she had held the power to change her circumstances all along.

Once the pan was heated and she had the sandwich sizzling, she pounded out Lucas's number. When he picked up the call, she immediately said, “I'm selling the boat.”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you before. You're selling, but not to me.”

“I changed my mind on that.”

There was a pause. “Are you teasing me?” he finally asked.

“No. I want to find my happy, and my happy involves a hot shower and a full kitchen. And your happy is this boat.” She paused and rolled her eyes at herself. “And we both deserve our happy.”

Another pause. “Who are you, and what have you done with my bitch ex-wife?”

She sighed. “Fine, if you're not interested—”

“Hey, whoa, I didn't say that! I'm interested. I'm
more
than interested. Consider it sold for fair market value.”

“And you'll pay me up front?”

“Hell, I'll even add in your car, free of charge.”

“Wow,” she said, and flipped her sandwich, the scent of melting cheese making her mouth water. “Look at you, going soft in your old age.”

“Bite your tongue, woman. So…this have anything to do with you bumping uglies with Jacob Kincaid?”

She'd just taken an unfortunate sip of her chocolate milk and choked on it.

“I'll take that as a yes,” he said. “You know that being with him is like going from the pan into the fire, right? Because if you think
I
can't keep it in my pants—”

“You can't!”

He let out a low laugh. “Okay, touché. But the last single male Kincaid, Sophie? Seriously? It's like you
want
to be hurt. It's like you
want
to be your dad, constantly down and depressed—”

She felt her spine snap straight. “You don't know what you're talking about,” she said stiffly. “I'm nothing like my dad. And it's not like he chooses to be sad, Lucas. It's a chemical imbalance—”

“Sophie,” he said quietly. “I didn't mean to start a fight and hurt your feelings. I'm just saying, I'm…worried about you.”

She blinked.

“I was an asshole,” he said. “There's no doubt. Hell, I'm
still
an asshole. But why are you going after another asshole? Do you
want
to get hurt again? Is that it?”

She opened her mouth and then closed it. “Jacob's not like you,” she said. “When he's with someone, he's with someone.”

“Okay, so maybe he's not going to cheat on you with another woman,” Lucas said. “But he's not going to be able to make you happy. He's not relationship material, and that's what you want. That's what you're looking for.”

No way was she going to admit to him that she'd learned that already, the hard way. “I'll be okay,” she said.

He was quiet a moment. “I'll have the accountant come up with an offer for the boat and get it to you tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” she said, and then paused. “Wait a minute. Did we just have a relatively decent conversation in which neither of us skewered the other?”

“Yeah,” he said, sounding as surprised as she. “Do you think it means the apocalypse is coming?”

“Maybe it means we're growing up,” she said.