Separation Anxiety (17 page)

“Are they tough critics on the women you bring home?”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know,” he said easily.

“Why not?”

“You’re the first woman I’ve ever brought home.”

What? How was it possible that a man who was thirty had never brought a woman home to meet his parents? And, furthermore, how was it possible that I was the one he finally chose to bring home
? “Shut up,” I said.

“It’s true.”

“So I’m popping your ‘bringing a girl home to meet mom and dad’ cherry?”

He laughed, and suddenly my lighthearted Jesse was back. “I guess you are.”

“Did you tell them you were bringing me?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t want to surprise them with an additional houseguest.”

“What did they say?”

“They were shocked, obviously.
They can’t wait to meet you. I think that they’ve always figured I’d never settle down.”

My heart pounded in my chest as a tingle warmed through my core at his words.
Everything south of my belly button clenched in delicious anticipation. And before I could stop the words, they were out. “Settle down? Is that what we’re doing?”

“Veronica, if you weren’t still married, I would pull
the fuck over, throw that beautiful body in the bed of this truck, and show you exactly what we’re doing.”

Holy hell.

My jaw dropped as I turned my head and stared at his profile, shocked at his words and the confirmation that he wanted me just as much as I wanted him. I mean, I knew he was interested, but those words caused an inferno of desire to course through my veins.

“Have you, um, mentioned
to your parents that I’m married?” I asked, sidestepping the scorching heat of his previous statement.

He chuckled. “Nice dodge,” he said.

“What the hell do you want me to say when you say things like that to me?”

He glanced at me again. “I want you to admit that you want me as much as I want you.”

Good Lord, this conversation took a sudden turn toward the seductive. Everything inside of me burned with ardent desire for him, and I wanted nothing more than for him to deliver on his word of pulling over and showing me how much he wanted me. Just the thought of sex with Jesse sent an aching throb right to my vagina. It had been far too long since I’d had sex with a man, and I got the sense that Jesse knew exactly what he was doing in that department.

“I think I want you more than you want me,” I finally whispered. His hand found my knee and squeezed, and then he left his hand there while I spoke, inching up just a bit along my thigh. I drew circles on the back of his hand, that perfect and sexy hand that I wanted on more than just my leg. “I think I have wanted you since the first moment I saw you. Things just got in our way, and all I can do is hope that you’ll still be here with me once things are final with Richard.”

He didn’t say anything as he put on his signal to exit at the upcoming ramp. He turned toward the gas station, so I assumed we were stopping for gas, feeling a little hurt that he hadn’t said something in return to my confession of feelings for him.

But
then he pulled off onto the shoulder, put on his hazard lights, threw the truck into park, and got out. He walked around to my door and opened it, and then he held out his hand to me. I took his hand and hopped down out of the truck, and he pulled me into his arms, tight against him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my head on that perfect expanse of manly chest.

“I couldn’t go another mile without feeling you against me,” he murmured
into my hair. He pulled back and leaned his forehead down against mine in that sensuous way he had. “V, I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing to me, but I’ve never felt what you make me feel.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” I whispered, and then his mouth crashed down over mine as his hands flattened against my back and I felt his fingers inch into the hair at the back of my neck.
His tongue was warm against my own, and those flutters ignited into a fire of love that I knew would never burn out.

“Jesse,” I moaned against his mouth. He pressed two gentle kisses to my lips before
resting his forehead to mine again. He took a deep, shuddering breath as I vaguely heard a car honk at us on its way by.

And I couldn’t help the next words that fell out of my mouth.

I hadn’t planned to say them. I was just so caught up in the moment and I was feeling this crazy surge of emotion that was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. Yes, it was lust and desire and a hot need for Jesse to be buried deep inside of me, but it was so much more than that. It was protection and care and adoration. It was friendship and passion and respect. It was devotion and affection and attraction.

It was far too early to say the words
and I certainly didn’t want to say them first, but there they were.

“I love you.”

A look of surprise flashed through his eyes, and then something else… fear, maybe? But it was immediately replaced by warmth, affection, and, most of all, desire.

His lips found mine again, but instead of the aggressive collision of tongues and lips, he took me slowly, sensually, and lovingly. His hand found my neck, my pulse beating nearly out of my skin, as my hands moved up and rested on his chest. I felt his heart beating under my hand, racing as fast as my own. We did this to each other.

The world melted away around us. I knew there were cars racing along the road beside us. I knew there was a gas station up ahead with people filling their tanks and getting drinks and snacks for their road trips. I knew there was a highway just below us with people going on trips or heading home from them.

But none of it mattered as Jesse kissed me. Nothing in the world mattered when he was holding me in his arms.

He pulled back and gazed into my eyes. I knew from the way he kissed me and the way he held me and the way he looked at me that he loved me, too. But he didn’t say anything. He pressed two gentle kisses to my lips once more, and then he led me back to the truck.

I felt stung that he hadn’t said it back.

Even though I knew it was too soon, and even though I knew that there was nothing we could do about it until I was a free woman, and even though I knew it was completely ridiculous that I felt rejected, it didn’t lessen the pain.

CHAPTER 12

We were quiet for the remainder of the trip, listening to the soft radio. His hand
was in constant contact with me. He drove one handed so he could touch my leg or hold my hand or squeeze my arm. While I loved his touch and craved it, it didn’t ease the ache from his non-response.

The anxious thought crept into my mind that maybe it had something to do with Carly. Was he in love with her? Was that why he couldn’t tell me that he loved me?

It had to be my insecurities talking.

He wasn’t taking Carly
to California to meet his parents, after all, so I forced myself to push that thought aside.

We pulled off the high
way once we got to Santa Monica, headed toward his parents’ house. Things were awkward between us now, and I just wanted the floor of the car to swallow me whole. Not only did I feel like a fool, but now I was worried that I had messed things up between the two of us. Everything had been going so well, and now I made it awkward.

“Are we close?” I asked, needing to break the silence.

He nodded. “Fifteen minutes, maybe,” he said, braking at a yellow light as his hand found my thigh.

I leaned my elbow on the armrest in the middle and leaned my forehead against my hand.
Staring down toward the floor, I said, “Jesse, can we just forget what I said back there? Things have been so awkward ever since and I just want to go back to being us again.”

We were stopped at a red light, and he looked over at me. He moved his hand from my thigh a
nd then pulled my arm down and twined his fingers through mine. He leaned over the center console and pressed a kiss to my lips.

“I will never forget that you said those words to me, V. Never.” His intensity was unlike anything I’d ever seen. “I feel it, too.”

Then why didn’t you say it back?
I wanted to ask, but I didn’t have the nerve.

I had to remind myself about that virtue of patience that I just didn’t possess.

The car behind us honked. I glanced up, and the light was green. Jesse had been paying more attention to me than the road, so he turned his attention back to driving.

Things were slightly less awkward after he said that he felt it, too, but what
I really wanted to know was why he felt but couldn’t say it.

We pulled into his parents’ driveway, and Jesse parked the truck and grabbed our bags from the backseat. He met me by my door and laced his fingers through mine. “You ready?” he asked, leaning in to press a quick kiss against my cheek. The smell of him mixed with the beach was overwhelming my senses.

I nodded, nervous to meet Judy and Dr. Phil.

We walked up to the door of the small, Spanish-style home, and Jesse
rang the bell and then slung his arm around my shoulders. I heard a dog barking, and then a moment later, an adorable older woman opened the door. She was short, maybe five feet two inches tall, and thin, and she had shoulder-length dark hair and eyes that matched Jesse’s. She gave off an air of kindness. Behind her stood a man that looked like he could’ve been Jesse’s twin twenty years earlier, except he had blue eyes and gray peppered into his dark hair. He was debonair and held that same air of kindness as his wife.

The dog was a little white West Highland Terrier. He was the kind of dog who would look adorable in a sweater. “Barry, down!” Jesse’s mom scolded with a loving smile as he jumped on me.
“I’m so sorry!” she said to me warmly.

I knelt down to pet Barry. I loved animals, dogs in particular. He jumped into my arms, and I stood and held him as Jesse hugged his mother and kissed her on the cheek and then shook his dad’s hand. Then he made the introductions.

“Mom, this is Veronica. Veronica, my mom,” he said.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Drake,” I said, sticking my hand out as best I could while I held the dog.

“Oh, don’t be silly, Veronica,” she said, shooing my hand away and pulling me into a hug. “It’s lovely to meet you. And call me Judy. Or Mom.” She kissed my cheek, and I grinned, feeling at home already.

“And this is my dad,” Jesse said, clapping his dad on the shoulder.

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Drake.”

“Phil,” he said with a grin that crinkled his eyes and gave him an even friendlier demeanor.
He leaned in for a hug, too. “Or Dr. Phil.” I giggled. “Or Dad.”

I never would’ve guessed that they’d suffered through the tragedy of losing a child from their attitudes. Clearly they had chosen to celebrate life after the devastating loss of their daughter.

“You’re gorgeous,” Judy said, appraising me.

I blushed in response.

“Mom, stop,” Jesse admonished.

“Sorry,” she said. “This is new for us.” I knew she was referring to the fact that Jesse had never brought home a woman to introduce to them.

She leaned
up and kissed her son tenderly on the cheek. I saw the love in her eyes, and it was hard to reconcile the story he’d told me in the car with the two people in front of me. Fifteen years was a long time, though.

“I brought you something,” he said. Judy clapped her hands together in excitement, and he went outside to get the end table. I
set Barry down and followed him to help him unload the end table, and I folded the blankets that we’d wrapped around it. He set it down and shut the tailgate, and then he came over to me. I tossed the folded blankets back into the bed of the truck, and he wrapped his arms around me in an unexpected display of emotion. He lifted me off my feet and pressed his lips to mine, and then he put me back down and buried his face in my neck.

“She’s right, you know,” he murmured, his lips against my neck.

“About what?” I asked.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said, and I felt his
grin against my skin as his sexy scruff tickled my sensitive flesh. I shivered at his words even as I heated over from the sentiment. I hugged him a little tighter to me.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, and with those words, he erased all of the tension and awkwardness I’d felt from what
had slipped out of my mouth earlier. If he had some reason that he was holding back, I had to be patient. I had to let him do things in his own time.

He carried the table to the door and I opened it. His parents were still standing in the hallway.

“Jesse bear, this is beautiful,” his mom said, clearly overcome both with emotion at her son’s talent and the meaning behind the beautiful piece of furniture he had crafted with his own hands in commemoration of his sister’s death.

“I pictured it in here,” he said, carrying it into the formal room just to the left of the front door and setting it into place. He fussed with it for a moment, and then he stood back and we all admired it.

“I love it,” Judy said, clapping her hands together like a little girl again. She was adorable. “It’s absolute perfection.”

Jesse pulled his mother into a hug, and she held tightly onto him while his father gazed at the table in appreciation.

“Jess, you’ve got a real talent, son,” his dad added.

Jesse bear and Jess? I was in love with his parents. They were basically the two cutest people ever.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” I gushed. I was proud of him, and clearly his parents were, too. We all gazed at the piece for a quiet moment.

“Thanks, everyone,” Jesse said, and if I wasn’t mistaken, I swear I saw a hint of a blush color his cheeks. “What’s for dinner?” he asked, once again proving his excellent skills of deflecting any attention from himself.

“Oh, Jesse. Just enjoy it,” his mom said, squeezing his arm. So apparently I wasn’t the only one who picked up on his expertise in attention deflection.

He rolled his eyes, and then we all headed to the kitchen.

The house was fairly small – only three bedroom
s, one of which was an office – but it was situated right on the beach overlooking the Pacific Ocean. I stared out the patio doors off of the kitchen for a moment. I had always loved the beach. I had always found it calming and tranquil just to listen to the waves rolling in and out, and I couldn’t wait for the chance to roll the sand between my toes.

The kitchen was fairly large, with an island in the center and plenty of counter space. There was a half wall separating the eating area from the family room, but you could easily see the television in the family room from anywhere in the kitchen.

“I just made some chicken salad for sandwiches,” Judy said, heading to the refrigerator. She pulled out a bowl of chicken salad, and then she headed to the pantry for chips and bread.

“Can I help?” I asked.

“No, sweet girl, but thank you for offering. Both of you sit and relax. What can Phil get you both to drink?”

“Beer,” Jesse said.

“I’ll just have some water,” I said.

“Have a beer,” Jesse urged, as if to tell me it was okay if I drank in front of his parents.

“Okay. A beer, then. And water.”

Phil smiled at me and brought four beers to the table along with my water while Judy pulled out plates and napkins.

A few minutes later, I was eating the most delicious chicken salad sandwich of my life with Jesse’s amazing family.

“So how did you two meet?” Phil asked.

Jesse took a sip of beer, so I answered. “At work. I teach at Central Valley High School.”

Judy raised her eyebrows. “You’re a high school teacher?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Thank you, Veronica,” she said with a smile.

“For what?” I asked, taking a bite of my sandwich.

“For teaching those kids,” she said. “I don’t know how you two deal with kids that age all day.”

I giggled. “They’re entertaining.”

“What do you teach?”

“Senior English.”

She shook her head. “I just don’t know how you do it.”

Jesse grinned. “She’s got a mean teacher voice,” he said almost boastfully. “Which, by the way, is totally hot.”

Jeez. I couldn’t believe he just said that in front of his parents. His mom blushed a little as I blushed a lot.

“Jesse!” I scolded, but his grin just widened. Clearly he was enjoying embarrassing me in front of his parents.

We chatted more about work, and Judy and Phil talked a little about their work. We had comfortable conversation during the meal, and I already felt like I was part of their family.

We all pitched in to clean up after our meal, and then Jesse asked if I wanted to take a walk, as had become our post-dinner tradition.

I agreed, and then
the four of us headed out to the patio. We left our shoes on the patio and Jesse led me down the stairs to the beach while his parents sat on the patio to enjoy the cool evening air. I headed right down to the sand, but Jesse stopped and sat on the second to the bottom stair. Then he leaned down and rolled up the bottoms of his jeans. He patted his knee, and I put my foot on his leg. He rolled my jeans up for me, too, first one leg and then the other. Before he let me put my foot down, he held it in his hand for a moment. I thought he was inspecting my pedicure, but then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of my foot. Something about that gesture was intimate and made me feel cherished and loved by him.

He stood and, lacing his fingers through mine, led me down toward the water. Once we got close, we both stopped and just looked out over the ocean. The waters were choppy, but the setting was still peaceful. He threw his arm around my shoulders and I snaked my arm around his waist.

“Your parents are adorable,” I said, leaning into him. Ocean breeze mixed with Jesse was for sure an aphrodisiac.

“They love you,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “But, then, you’re very lovable.”

I stiffened. They loved me. I loved him. He called me “lovable.” Why couldn’t he just say that he loved me, too?

“What’s wrong?” he whispered.

“You can’t say things like that to me,” I said, feeling hurt and frustrated all over again. I pulled out of his arms because being there was too comforting. It was too warm and loving, and it was sending me all the wrong signals after he didn’t say the words. I wasn’t sure why I felt that way, but I couldn’t help it.

“Like what?”

“You can’t call me lovable but not say the words back to me,” I blurted.

Fucking beer. Truth serum, just like vodka.
And wine.

He sighed. “Veronica, it’s not because I don’t. Because I do. It’s just…” he trailed off.

It didn’t escape my notice that he’d just admitted that he did love me. He had said, “Because I do.” If he’d have finished that sentence, it would’ve been, “Because I do love you.”

“It’s just what, Jesse?” I asked,
my voice venting my frustration as I turned to look up at him.

“I’ve never said it before to a woman.”
His voice was flat and he stared out over the water, running a hand through his hair as he refused to meet my eyes.

Understanding dawned on me.

This was difficult for him because it was new territory. He’d spent the last fifteen years avoiding getting close to people, most likely as a direct result of what happened with his sister. He was scared of getting attached. He wasn’t scared of commitment; that was completely different. He was committed to his job, to his woodworking, to the labels in his refrigerator. He’d proven that he could commit.