The Christmas He Loved Her Read online

  Jake ignored the taunt and remained silent, his eyes locked on to Mackenzie’s. His friend was dressed in an expensive suit tailored to fit his tall frame, the charcoal gray a nice choice against the plum shirt. Though his collar was loose and a thin black tie lay on the table in front of him, Mac always looked GQ ready. With his thick dirty-blond hair and vibrant green eyes, he’d been labeled a pretty boy his entire life.

  Mackenzie, Cain Black, Jake, and his brother Jesse had been the best of friends from the time they were five years old and Mackenzie had come to school with his front teeth missing and a shiner the color of rotted grapes. It had impressed the hell out of the Edwards twins, though they were too young to appreciate the darkness and violence it represented.

  It was good to see him. “You home for the holidays too?” Jake asked.

  Mackenzie shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think Ben would appreciate it if I crashed his long weekend. I had business in Detroit and thought I’d squeeze in a visit with my mother, but…”

  “But?” Jake prodded.

  Mac shrugged. “Same old same old. I called ahead and it’s not gonna work. Ben’s already home and liquored up. I guess his long weekend has an extra few days tacked on to it. Mom snuck away and we had coffee.” Mackenzie’s mouth tightened. “She’ll never change. There’s always some reason for the bruises on her arms or the soreness in her side. He beats the crap out of her and she stays.”

  “She’ll wake up one day, Mac,” Raine said carefully.

  Mackenzie turned to her, with a bitter smile. “I doubt it. In spite of everything, she loves him. How fucked-up is that?” He glanced at his watch. “Anyway, I gotta hit the road. It’s a good ten hours until I hit New York.”

  “You sure you don’t want to stay for Thanksgiving? I’ve got—” She halted and cleared her throat. “Well, the spare room isn’t usable right now, but the sofa is yours.” Raine prodded gently, “Maybe Ben will…I don’t know…”

  “Do us a favor and kick the bucket?” Mackenzie shook his head. “That son of a bitch will outlive us all.” He enveloped Raine into a bear hug and kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks, but I’d be crap company anyway.”

  Mackenzie paused a few inches away, his eyes intense as he studied Jake in silence. “You look like shit, soldier.”

  “I’m not a soldier anymore.”

  “No, I suppose you’re not.” The two men stared at each other for several moments, and then Mackenzie lowered his voice. “I miss him too.”

  The band of pain that sat around Jake’s chest tightened and he nodded, a lump in his throat. “Yeah,” he muttered.

  They shook hands, but when Jake would have pulled away, Mackenzie held on for a quick hug. “Don’t be such a douche bag, and stay in touch.” Mackenzie stepped back and cocked his head to the side. “Give your dad my best. He’s a tough son of a bitch, so I wouldn’t worry too much.”

  Jake nodded. “Will do.”

  “It’s good you’re back.”

  Jake nodded but remained silent.

  Mackenzie smiled a million watts at Raine, his green eyes crinkled with warmth. “Take care, gorgeous, and I’ll think about Christmas.”

  The door closed behind Mackenzie, leaving silence in his wake and the oppressive weight of two ice-blue eyes shooting daggers at Jake. Now that Mac was gone, she didn’t make any effort to hide her anger.

  Jake turned to her, set his leather bag onto the coffee table, and waited for the hammer to fall.

  “I should kick your ass all over Crystal Lake, you know that, right?” She blew out a strand of hair that caught at the corner of her mouth. “And maybe I will, but first I’d like to hear all about your yearlong vacation.”

  Vacation?

  Okay, so now anger burned beneath his leather collar. Fort Hood was no fucking vacation. The nightmares in his head were no fucking vacation. The guilt and pain that lived with him every single day were no fucking vacation.

  “Are you serious?” He asked so softly, he knew she barely heard him, or else she might have taken the hint and backed off. “You think the last year has been a vacation?”

  Instead, Raine took two steps forward and thumped him in the chest with the palm of her hand. “Yes, I do,” she spat. “You took a vacation from life for the last year and a half while the rest of us slugged it out in the trenches.” Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she’d never looked more fierce. Never looked more delicate and frail or so damn lovely it made his stomach ache. “It’s time to come clean, Edwards. Why have you stayed away so long?”

  The hammer, it seemed, was heavy, and it didn’t take long to strike.

  Chapter 2

  Raine didn’t know if she wanted to strangle the man in front of her, slap him across the face and order him out of her house, or hug him. And by the looks of it, Jake Edwards needed more than just a hug. Judging from the bleak, haunted look in his eyes, he hadn’t fared well over the last year and a half. But then again, had any of them?

  She tore her gaze from his, her heart pounding, her cheeks heated. God, she was so angry with him.

  He stood in front of her, hurting so badly it fell off him in waves, and yet all she could think about was the fact that he had been in touch with every single person they shared a bond with, except her.

  She’d received exactly six emails from him since he left Crystal Lake. And one drunken voice mail, which she’d never erased and would listen to from time to time when she was feeling more down in the dumps than usual. How sad was that?

  Raine exhaled sharply and took a step back, eyes critical as she took him in once more. He was dressed in faded jeans and black leather, a deep blue turtleneck sweater offering some bit of warmth against the late November chill. His hair, so much longer than when she’d seen him last, was wavy, the thick espresso curls now touching his collar. The coffee-colored eyes that stared back at her glittered with a hardness in their depths she didn’t like. His strong jaw, slightly crooked nose—broken when he was twelve and his brother dared him to jump off the bridge near the dam—and full, wide mouth hadn’t changed.

  He was still as handsome as ever, and she supposed some women would find the hard edge he’d picked up even more attractive. He looked dangerous, very much a bad boy—as if Jake Edwards needed any more weapons in his arsenal. Women had always flocked to his side like bees to honey. Heck, he’d been as much a horndog as Cain Black, back in the day.

  He’s so different from Jesse.

  They were fraternal twins, so while physically they looked different—her husband had been lighter in coloring, with blue eyes instead of brown, and dark blond hair—there’d still been enough of a resemblance between them that anyone would know they were brothers. The Edwards twins. The Bad Boys.

  She closed her eyes as a familiar wave of pain rolled through her. It stuck in her chest, tightening like iron claws, and she took a step back, hating the sensation more than ever.

  She much preferred the numb cocoon she usually existed in. It was just easier when everything was coated in ice and frozen over, smooth as the lake in mid-December.

  “Are you all right?”

  Raine’s eyes shot open. “What kind of question is that?” She turned, grabbed Mackenzie’s empty beer bottle, and headed toward her kitchen. She rinsed the bottle out and set it on the counter, aware that Jake had followed her.

  Keeping the granite island between them, she glared at him. “Why wouldn’t I be all right? I’m a thirty-year-old widow who lives alone, though I suppose Gibson counts for something.” She paused and glared at him. “Gibson would be my puppy.” Then she continued. “My mother is back in town and wants to spend the holidays with me, and really, she’s the last person I want to see. Most of my friends are either too busy or too weirded out by my situation to come around anymore. I’m scared, pissed off, and…”

  She went quiet as her thoughts wandered toward
the dark place inside her. The empty place. The one that would never heal.

  I’m alone.

  Jake’s eyes narrowed and the bleakness in them intensified. She knew exactly what he was thinking about, and for a moment she was back there with him. Back to that crazy night when the darkness inside both of them had exploded.

  The night they had reached for each other in pain. The night they had used their bodies to try and forget Jesse’s death—her husband, his brother. But it had backfired, and their pain had been too great, their last words bitter. Jake’s had rung in her head for many, many nights.

  I can’t stand to be around you.

  His gaze moved downward and settled on her stomach, for just a second, before he nailed her with an intense look. “So you never went through with it?” he asked bluntly.

  “With what?” she managed, wanting to hear him say it. The one thing he’d been so pissed about.

  “Having Jesse’s baby.”

  Raine glared at him, even as her heart split wide open. She couldn’t fall apart. Not now. She didn’t want to talk about it, not with him. That time had come and gone, and he’d been nowhere to be found.

  “Besides the fact that it’s none of your business…” She paused and grabbed an empty glass off the counter. “Do you see a kid running around here?”

  Raine crossed to the fridge and yanked open the door. She grabbed a large jug of water, and then everything inside her stilled. Jake had moved and was inches from her.

  “You’re wrong about that, Raine.”

  She forced herself to pour the glass and then shoved the jug back into the fridge before turning around. He looked so hard and fierce and hurt that for a moment all she wanted to do was wrap him in her arms and ease his burden.

  The moment fled as quickly as it had come. He would push her away. It’s what Jake did, and besides, she was so raw inside, she was no help to anyone. Especially Jake. He’d disappeared from her life when she needed him the most, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to forgive him for that.

  I’m so sorry for what happened. I never meant for any of it. Please, are you there? I can’t stop thinking about you. About what we did that night. God, Jesse must hate us.

  His drunken words, still on her voice mail, echoed in her head, but she shook them away, feeding on the cold anger inside her.

  “How’s that again?” she asked and then shoved her way past him. Gibson happily followed in her footsteps and jumped onto the sofa as she stood in front of the large window overlooking the trees out back. Blue patches of water glittered through the oak and linden trees, and she shivered, hating the emptiness—the bareness—of everything.

  It was November, a month of dormancy, when all the living, green things wither and die and disappear until spring. She shook her head and drained her glass. She was just like the big old oak tree that stretched above the bench out back. Dormant. Existing in a state of sleep. And yet, unlike the tulip bulbs that lay beneath the earth in front of her home, she wasn’t entirely sure she’d ever be able to thrive again. She sighed.

  Half the time she didn’t know if she wanted to.

  “Jesse made it my business when he asked me to look out for you.”

  Raine closed her eyes, glad that Jake couldn’t see the pain in them. He wouldn’t understand. No one would. Hell, she didn’t even understand the breadth of her emotions sometimes.

  “And you’ve done such a bang-up job of that, haven’t you?” Raine whirled around. “I haven’t seen you since a month after Jesse’s funeral. And I can count on one hand…” She looked at her outstretched fingers and snorted. “No, hold on.” She held her middle finger up and shoved it in his face, a big fuck-you. “This is how many times I’ve heard from you.” Suddenly the hurt inside was too much and her body shivered from the force of it. “Once.” She laughed harshly, ignoring Gibson as the puppy began to whimper, sensing his master’s anguish.

  “That’s bull. I emailed you more than—”

  “One phone call is all I got, Jake, and you were drunk,” she said hoarsely. “Emails don’t count. Not for me. I deserve more than that.” Her voice broke. “You have no idea…”

  His face whitened and he took a step. For one crazy moment Raine thought he was going to reach for her, and she leaned forward, like a fool…like a starved fool who hadn’t been touched by anyone in so long. God, she just wanted to lean on someone. Lean on someone strong, and forget.

  Marnie and Steven were so fragile, still dealing with the loss of their son and Steven’s illness; Raine didn’t want to add to their burden. So she acted as if everything were all right. She let them spoil her however they wanted, because she knew it gave them comfort, but mostly because it was just easier to let them. But it wasn’t enough for Raine, and with her closest friend, Maggie, gone to LA with Cain…there was no one.

  After months of walking through life in someone else’s shoes—some false facade she’d built up—Raine felt the cracks beneath the surface. She felt them every day…getting larger, deeper…and knew that if she didn’t deal with them soon, they’d swallow her whole.

  If she disappeared down the rabbit hole, Raine was pretty sure she’d never find her way back.

  Funny, some days it was all she wished for.

  “Are you still considering having Jesse’s baby?”

  Something about his tone got to her, and Raine glanced up sharply, her pain forgotten as anger replaced it in one fast, hot thrust. “What do you care, Jake?” She shook her head. “And don’t tell me it’s because you’re going to”—she made quotation marks with her fingers—“be here for me. If you cared enough, you wouldn’t have left in the first place.” Her eyes narrowed. “Besides, I know what you really think. You thought I was nuts to consider having Jesse’s baby after he died. In fact, if I remember correctly, you told me I couldn’t even look after a goddamn cat.”

  Gibson chose that moment to bark sharply, his head going back and forth between the two of them, his tail wagging at half-mast. He knew the humans in the room with him were on edge. Raine glanced at the dog. Gibson, you have no bloody idea.

  “Guess I proved you wrong, Jake. I’ve had Gibson a whole four weeks, and other than one trip to the vet because he ate a necklace, we’ve been fine.”

  “A dog is a whole lot different than a baby.”

  Raine took a step closer, the anger and pain inside her begging for release. “Really? I must have missed the memo on that one. And here I thought all I had to do was invest in a couple packs of pee pads and another dog crate.”

  “Raine, I didn’t mean—”

  “Yes you did,” she interrupted and held her hands up. “You know what? I’m not doing this with you, Jake.” Suddenly she was defeated. “I can’t do this. Not with you.”

  Gibson stared up at the two of them from the coffee table, and even though he wasn’t allowed on it, she didn’t have the heart or the strength to push him away. In fact she wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and go to sleep. She glanced outside into the gray, overcast sky. It was only four in the afternoon. Was it too early to go to bed?

  “Hey, I don’t want to upset you.” Jake sounded as tired as she felt.

  But you do.

  “Shouldn’t you be with your parents? Why are you here, Jake?”

  He ruffled the fur behind Gibson’s ears, and she watched as her puppy wiggled outrageously, angling to get closer without falling off the table.

  He nodded toward the leather bag he’d arrived with, which she now noticed he had set on the edge of the coffee table. “That belonged to Jesse, and after all the craziness with…” She watched him closely as he paused, his eyes on the bag, and for a moment, she knew he wasn’t with her anymore. His eyes went darker, his mouth tighter. “It was left behind in Afghanistan and sent back to base, and I knew…Jesse would want you to have it, even if it’s taken me forever to ge
t it to you.”

  He stepped back when she bent forward. Raine’s fingers trailed along the bag, lightly touching the strap that was bound with travel tags. “What’s inside?” Her voice, barely a whisper, was rough, but she was thankful that she was able to hold it together. She clamped her teeth together as her stomach roiled. She needed to keep it together.

  At least until Jake left.

  “I don’t know.”

  She looked up sharply. “You didn’t open it?”

  He shook his head but remained silent, his dark, intense eyes shiny. “It’s not mine to open.”

  “Okay,” she said finally. “So, what—”

  The sharp ring of a cell phone cut her off, and Jake looked startled as he reached into his pocket. He withdrew the phone, glanced at it, and frowned. “Sorry, I gotta take this, hold on.”

  Raine nodded and took a step back. She scooped Gibson into her arms and ran her fingers through the dog’s fur as she pretended not to listen to Jake’s side of the conversation.

  “Hey.” He paused and glanced her way. Raine brushed past him and walked toward the kitchen, though her ears were left somewhere behind her.

  “Yeah, I’m done here. I’ll pick you up.”

  His conversation was none of her business, but listening to him tell whoever it was on the other end that he was done with her made Raine feel even less important than before. She couldn’t lie. Even as angry and disappointed and upset as she was with him…she still wanted to matter, and his dismissive tone hurt.

  There was a long pause as Raine busied herself refilling Gibson’s water bowl, even though she’d done it a few hours ago.

  “All right. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” He pocketed the cell, and Raine leaned against the counter as he entered the kitchen.

  “Who was that?” she asked bluntly.

  Jake shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and shrugged. He didn’t quite meet her eyes, and she knew something was up.