The Christmas He Loved Her Page 9

  “Oh, right. There’s a bug going round. That’s fine,” Raine mumbled, hating the hot sting of tears that scorched the corners of her eyes. She squared her shoulders and put on a fake smile. “What’s he going to do with it?”

  Marnie’s smile widened. “Why, my dear, he’s going to bring it back to life.”

  Chapter 9

  “You know you’re crazy, right?”

  Salvatore Nuno, owner of the Coach House, shook his head and placed a beer in front of Jake. Moisture gathered along the top of the brown bottle—it was cold, just the way he liked it—and Jake grinned as he took a swig and waited for another sermon.

  Salvatore’s forehead was beaded with sweat and the man huffed with a lot of effort as he rubbed at the edge of the worn, wooden bar top. “Wyndham Place is one helluva undertaking, my friend. You ever see that movie, The Money Pit?” Sal’s bushy eyebrows twisted together as he leaned over the bar. “Huh? With that there guy…you know, Forrest Gump?” He tossed the rag over his shoulder and shook his head. “That is what Wyndham Place is, my friend—a money pit. And only a fool would think otherwise.”

  Jake set the bottle back onto the bar and tried not to laugh at the outraged expression on the man’s face. “Don’t hold back, Sal. Tell me how you really feel.”

  Salvatore shook his head and ran his fingers over his smooth, shiny, bald head. His faded gray T-shirt stretched tight over his belly, and his dress pants hung dangerously low, held up by an ancient leather belt that looked to Jake to be on its last legs. “I’m just telling you the truth. Everyone around here thinks you’re crazy to spend that kind of money on a run-down estate that should be demolished. It’s not just an eyesore, it’s a goddamn safety hazard.”

  Jake ignored the comment, mostly because he’d been hearing nothing but the same kind of rhetoric since Saturday, when word had leaked out that he’d plunked down a sizable amount of cash for the Wyndham estate.

  Sizable, and about all he had.

  Crystal Lake was a small town, and considering Lori Jonesberg was with Brad Kitchen when the offer was finalized, he wasn’t surprised everyone seemed to know his business. Lori owned A Cut Above, the gossip center in a town like Crystal Lake. Newly separated from her husband, she’d wasted no time getting herself on the market and was currently making the rounds with Brad.

  “You got that wine ready yet?”

  “Hmph.”

  Salvatore scowled and grabbed a wineglass from beneath the counter, or at least what passed for a wineglass hereabouts. The stem was thick, the glass dull. It was the farthest thing from crystal, but Jake knew how much Lily enjoyed her wine.

  “I hope she likes it, because it’s all we got.” Sal poured a good amount into the glass, muttering loudly to himself as he did so. “Wine? Huh. No one comes in to the Coach House and drinks wine. Scotch maybe, or whiskey, but wine?”

  Jake glanced back toward the far corner, where Lily sat. She stood out like a sore thumb, dressed head to toe in white, with her platinum hair curling down past her shoulders just so, emphasizing her considerable cleavage. He was sure she’d dressed that way on purpose.

  Lily was a pro at garnering attention. In fact, he was pretty damn sure there was an on switch inside her, and even though she claimed to like anonymity, he doubted she could turn it off even if she wanted to.

  She’d drawn some curious stares—a group of young guys hanging near the stage kept glancing back, definitely interested. They nudged each other and whispered behind hands, but no one approached her.

  He shook his head. Must be the arctic expression on her face. A man would have to have balls the size of basketballs in order to muster up enough courage to talk to her.

  It was Sunday and her last evening in town. Lily was heading back to Texas in the morning. His parents had gone to Putnam’s Landing, a neighboring town, to visit some friends, and feeling restless, Jake has suggested a trip into Crystal Lake.

  For the first time in a long time, he was busting with excitement with the need to do something. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like to get up in the morning and look forward to his day.

  The only damper was Raine. There was still a lot of unfinished business between the two of them, and now that he was sticking around, the sooner he got it out of the way, the better. He thought of everything he wanted to say—of everything he needed to say—and his gut tightened.

  There was no way he could move on until he cleared the air.

  He’d called Raine a few hours earlier, thinking he would swing by, but got her voice mail. He’d left a long, rambling message telling her about the house and not much else.

  Jake sighed. A lot of memories at Wyndham Place.

  “Here you go.” Sal interrupted his thoughts. “And if she don’t like it, well…” Sal shrugged as his gaze swung toward Lily, a glare lighting up his small, round eyes something fierce.

  “I’m sure it will be fine, Sal.” Jake grabbed the wineglass and shoved off from the bar.

  “It’s not fancy like what she wanted, but it’s all I got and it will have to do.”

  It was nearing nine o’clock, and the band would be going on soon. Jake wound his way through the mess of tables, most of them full, and nodded to the familiar faces that he saw.

  “Here you go.” He placed the glass in front of Lily and watched as she tried to hide her disdain for what was in front of her. Her nose wrinkled briefly, and then she sighed.

  “It’s…” She glanced up at him with a confused look in her eyes. “It’s, uh, bubbly.”

  Jake slid in across from Lily. “I know.”

  Lily frowned and took a sip, her face screwing up as she shoved it away. “It’s…it’s…”

  “Yeah, it’s Cold Duck.”

  Lily groaned. “Seriously? This is all he had? I know it’s a dark, smelly grease pit, but Cold Duck instead of real wine?” Lily stared at him. “Seriously?”

  Jake leaned back in his chair and glanced at the stage. “Yep.” He angled his head. “You want tequila instead?”

  Lily narrowed her eyes. “Sure. Why the hell not?”

  Oh Christ, here we go.

  Jake’s grin widened. “The last time we did tequila shots—”

  “Don’t you dare! You said you’d never bring that up again!” Lily was laughing loudly now, her chuckle unrefined and generous. “Hold on, redneck, I’ll score us some real liquor.”

  Lily slipped from her chair and disappeared into the dark at the same time the house lights went down and the band took the stage. It was a local act, Shady Aces, and he was pretty sure they’d been around the last time he was home. A mix of blues and hard-edged rock, the young guys on stage were chock-full of energy and attitude.

  Jake settled back into his chair and watched them. There was something wild and untamed about the group, and he found himself growing more than a little wistful at the camaraderie he sensed. He’d had that once. A long time ago, back before his world had imploded.

  Back before the constraints and damage of adulthood had taken over.

  Lily came back as the band ripped into their second song, with six shots of tequila on a small tray, balancing it like a pro. If he didn’t know better, he’d have guessed she’d waitressed at some point in her life, but considering the golden spoon and all, he highly doubted it. She set it down in front of him, shoved three shot glasses his way, and sat down beside him.

  She licked her lips, aware the guys in front of the stage had turned around fully, their interest in the band gone as soon a she’d waltzed by their table, swinging her hips in a way that would make any man look twice.

  Carefully, dramatically, she put a glass of tequila against her lips, winked at him, and then tossed it back like a hardened barfly.

  Jake did likewise. They settled into an easy hour of music, and he let every dark thing inside him go. He knew it would come back, but when h
e was with Lily, it was easy for him to forget.

  It was closing in on ten when the band finished their set and the DJ filled the empty noise with a selection of slower songs.

  Lily leaned back and stretched. “I like this place.”

  Jake snorted. She was so full of shit. “Really.”

  “Yes, really.”

  “You just hate the wine.”

  She cocked her head to the side and looked at him as if he were crazy. “They don’t have wine, remember? Cold Duck is not wine.” She grinned. “Though I will concede, their tequila is as fine as a whore’s tongue.”

  Jake shook his head and fingered the empty shot glasses. “That it is.” The one thing most people would be surprised to know about Lily St. Clare was that the woman could hold her booze better than most men he knew, and on occasion she talked like a trucker.

  Unlike Raine, who was a lightweight when it came to the hard stuff.

  The thought of Raine was enough to kill his buzz, and Jake sighed as he ran his hand along the back of his neck.

  “Don’t you dare,” Lily said loudly and stood.

  Jake looked up at her in surprise. “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t retreat into your dark place. Not now…not tonight.” She held her hand out as a slow, melodic tune swept over the dance floor. “It’s my last night and I feel like dancing.” Lily moved her hips and giggled. “Come on, redneck, show the city girl how it’s done out here in the boonies.”

  “I don’t dance,” he shot back.

  “Sure you do.”

  He shook his head. “Not gonna happen.”

  Lily grinned as her hands went to the edge of her blouse. She gazed beyond him and paused for a second before she tossed her hair all over the place and rolled her hips suggestively. If he didn’t know better, he’d have said she was gunning for an Academy Award. “Dance with me or I’ll take my shirt off, and in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not wearing a bra.”

  Jake gritted his teeth and glared at her. He knew her well enough to know she’d do it too. And she knew him well enough to know he’d never let her.

  “You’re not only crazy,” he ground out, “you’re a goddamn brat.”

  “I know.” She beckoned him. “Now dance with me.”

  Jake rose and let her lead him to the darkened dance floor, where they slid among several couples moving slowly to the music. It was heavy on the steel guitar, a melancholy sound that tugged at something deep inside him. He’d never heard the song before, but the tone and feel of it reminded him of…

  Raine.

  He stilled and held Lily as they moved along the edge of the dance floor, both of them lost in thought and somewhere else. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and he knew that she was tense. As much as she projected a sex-kitten image, Lily wasn’t fussy on being touched, and though it made him wonder why she’d wanted to dance, he pushed the notion aside. About a week after meeting Lily, he’d given up trying to figure out how her mind worked. So he held her lightly and tried to forget how good it felt to hold someone.

  How good it had felt to cradle Raine against his chest the other night.

  “Wouldn’t it be nice if we…”

  He angled his head and looked down. “If we what?”

  Lily’s eyes shimmered, and though she tried to hide the pain inside her, she couldn’t. She swallowed and smiled, a small, sad smile. “I just thought it would be nice if we could have been more than friends. If you weren’t so screwed up and I wasn’t so broken.”

  Leave it to Lily to hit the nail right on the head. Hard.

  “I would have wanted someone like you,” she whispered.

  Jake exhaled slowly, wishing he could ease her pain. He knew the secrets she kept hidden from the world. Her hands rose up and cupped his face, her fingers light. “I want you to be happy, Jake. You deserve to be happy.”

  He didn’t know what to say, so he kept quiet. Happiness and Jake Edwards were at odds, and he doubted they’d ever be friends.

  She leaned up and kissed him alongside his mouth, pressing her cheek next to his, and she whispered, “Promise me you’ll tell her how you feel.”

  She let him go, took a step backward, and slowly her features relaxed into a smile that immediately put Jake on alert. She was a chameleon, and he’d seen that smile before. The woman was up to something, and he was pretty damn sure it was nothing good.

  The song ended and silence filled the air around them as the couples on the dance floor slowly disengaged and returned to their seats. A few of them said hello on their way by and he nodded, though his eyes never left Lily.

  She moved past him and he turned to follow, his long stride faltering as he caught sight of a woman standing alone near the edge of the dance floor, huge eyes trained on him. Raine.

  Raine’s pale face looked almost elfin beneath the muted lights and she licked her lips, a nervous gesture, as she gazed at him. For a moment she reminded him of a doe about to bolt, but then her chin lifted ever so slightly, and he knew she’d stay.

  He covered the distance between them in seconds and cleared his throat, but she spoke before he could get a word out.

  “Hey,” she said softly. “I, uh, got your message and thought…” Her voice trailed into nothing as her gaze wavered between him and Lily. “Well, I thought…”

  Jake watched her struggle to speak and hated that things were so uncomfortable and awkward between them.

  “I’m glad you came out.” His voice sounded strained. Jesus Christ, but he felt like a damn schoolboy.

  “Yes, so good to see you got over that nasty flu bug,” Lily interrupted as she joined them. “You didn’t look so great Thursday night.” She pointed to just behind Raine. “We’re sitting there.”

  Jake followed the women over to their table, and Lily scooped up her coat, nodding toward the closest chair. “Take a seat, Raine. I’m leaving.” She shrugged. “I could lie and say I’m exhausted, but truthfully, this place kind of grosses me out. It smells like stale beer and God knows what else, and my damn heels keep sticking to the floor. I’ve been dying to leave ever since I arrived, and now that you’re here, you can keep Jake company while he drinks to that god-awful property he just spent way too much money on.”

  Jake’s eyes narrowed. What game was Lily playing now? She’d practically done backflips when she saw Wyndham Place and was on her speed dial to some fancy-pants interior designer by the name of Melvin before he’d even made an offer.

  “You don’t mind, do you, Jake? I’ve already called a cab, so you don’t need to worry about me.”

  Liar.

  “I’ll see you later, babe.” Lily reached up and kissed him on the mouth. It was a light caress, one meant for show, and if they weren’t in the middle of the Coach House, he’d have told her exactly what he thought of her meddling and games.

  He arched an eyebrow. Babe?

  She stretched—a long, drawn-out, exaggerated movement that had the eyes popping out of the heads of the guys a few tables over.

  Lily tossed one more mischievous smile his way and whirled around. She strode toward the bar, pulling her cell phone out of her purse as she headed toward Sal. She leaned over and chatted with Salvatore for a few seconds, gave Jake one more wave, and then disappeared from view.

  He turned back to Raine, who stared after the blonde with an unreadable expression on her face. He gestured toward the seat. “Guess it’s just you and me.”

  Chapter 10

  An hour before, it had seemed like such a good idea to come out to the Coach House, but that was before seeing Jake and Lily St. Clare together—really together—had all but made her toss her cookies.

  And now? Now she felt like an asshat. An outsider.

  She restlessly picked at an invisible speck of lint on her jeans and she glanced away from Jake, trying desperately to keep it together. />
  She felt like someone who didn’t matter.

  Jake had called earlier but she had been in the shower, and pacing the floors, Gibson trailing after her feet, barking and yipping as he tried to catch her toes, she’d listened to his long, rambling message.

  For that one moment, he’d sounded a lot like the old Jake—excited and filled with expectation, or maybe even hope. Wyndham Place was his, and she more than anyone knew what it meant to him.

  When the restlessness inside her had threatened to spill over, she said, “Screw it,” and had dressed hastily in dark navy jeans that weren’t falling apart—thanks to the spandex in the material, they actually fit—and a moss-green sleeveless blouse. Four-inch heels, a speck of gloss and some shadow…and she was ready to go. Her hair was a tousled mess, but she was finally getting used to it and thought that maybe it was kind of…sexy.

  Not that she was trying to look sexy, but it sure as heck felt good to think she at least looked that way for a change.

  She’d locked Gibson in his crate, ignored his mournful barks, and tossed him a cookie before leaving. The drive to the Coach House had taken less than twenty minutes, and she had sat outside for nearly twenty more before mustering enough courage to go inside.

  Only to watch Jake suck face with Blonde Ambition. Ugh. It was enough to make her puke. The girl was totally wrong for Jake. Why couldn’t he see it?

  “You want something to drink?”

  “No,” she answered quickly. Her stomach rolled at the thought of alcohol. “Water, maybe?”

  “Sure.” Jake signaled the waitress.

  Raine cleared her throat and glanced around the bar as she waited for the waitress to return.

  Music played in the background, the DJ spinning some soft country song. Jake’s gaze was shuttered, a small frown on his face, and she glanced away, hating the silence between them. God, there’d been a day when the two of them couldn’t shut up. It used to drive Jesse crazy. Her late husband was the type to sit back and analyze things—people and places—while Jake and Raine were more in-your-face with their opinions. And their opinions rarely matched—in fact they most always clashed—and that led to arguments that on more than one occasion had sent Jesse packing while the two of them duked it out.