Loving Jake (Almost Perfect #1)

Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

Jake parked the four-door sedan next to the street curb and didn’t bother to lock it. There had been a waiting list at the airport car rental for anything sportier than the standard rentals, and he was not prepared to wait. There would be time later to trade the car in for something comparable to the Ferrari he had rented the last time he had been in town. His steps faltered. He was in town to stay this time. He could actually join the rest of society and purchase a car rather than survive on rentals.

He crossed the street and stopped to look at the stucco bungalow before he continued down the sidewalk. Little had changed during the six and half months he had been gone. The white wicker furniture still adorned the front porch, and pots filled with flowering red and purple bougainvillea hung from the porch ceiling. He hoped this was an indication that he’d find everything else the same.

He brushed the palms of his hands against the soft denim of his jeans. He climbed the wooden porch steps and stood in front of the screen door. He pressed the doorbell, and the musical chimes that Kimberly loved so much echoed through the house. He nearly crushed the bouquet of roses he clutched tightly in his hand. What if she’s moved on? Without him?

“Come on in, Susan. I’ll be right down,” a voice called from deep within the house. He tensed, a stream of sensations cursed through his body to settle at the core of his heart.

Jake accepted her invitation, although not intended for him, and opened the screen door. He stepped into the foyer and hesitated. He expected Daisy to charge at him at any moment, and he hoped the giant fur ball would remember him. No sign of Daisy anywhere. She was probably in the backyard, lounged in the warm spring sun. Some watch dog Kimberly had herself. The corners of his generous mouth curled upward in half of a grin.

He turned his head to the sound of deliberate footsteps steadily descending the stairwell.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Susan. I gathered the last of these clothes for the bazaar so you could take them—" Kimberly’s labored breath was interrupted by her abrupt gasp.

“Jake!” She leaned back against the wall. “What are you doing here?” She glanced sharply at him and then back at the large basket of clothing she held in her arms. She was clearly surprised and something else. Frightened? But why?

“I thought you were, ah, my friend Susan... coming to collect some clothing for the church bazaar this weekend,” she stammered in a shaky voice. She remained on the bottom step and leaned heavily against the wall for support.

Jake’s bold gaze quickly skipped over the mound of clothing she carried and traveled upward to her face. She was lovely. Even with her wild mane of black curls piled high on her head and her face devoid of any make-up, he could think of her as nothing but breathtaking. Flawless. The memories he held of her over the last six and a half months had not done her justice. It was physically painful for him to think that he had actually walked away from her and from the love she had professed that she would always have for him.

“Can I take that basket for you? It looks like a pretty heavy load you have there.”

“No. I mean, no thank you,” she amended. “Susan should be here any minute to pick them up.”

He narrowed his eyes but accepted her response. “I expected to be trampled by Daisy when I walked in. Is she out back?”

“Yes, she is. It’s such a nice day…" Kimberly’s voice trailed off.

She was obviously taken back by his unexpected visit, and he couldn’t blame her. He was a bit overwhelmed himself. Her attempt at small talk was as feeble as his own. His eyes, hungry for the sight of her, settled on her face again. She was tense. Her chocolate eyes were large and alert.

To his puzzlement, she refused to put down the enormous basket of clothing she clutched like a lifeline. He watched her shift her weight to rest on her opposite foot, the movement awkward and seemingly painful for her.

“Kimberly, it really looks like you have quite a load in your hands. I’ll tell you what, I’ll trade you these flowers for your basket. That way you can find a vase for the poor wilting bunch, and I’ll find an equally suitable home for your clothes until your friend shows up.” Jake swiftly breached the distance between them and stood in front of her in less than two strides.

He reached out and grabbed the bulging basket from her grasp. She reacted by letting out a loud yelp of protest. “Jake, don’t. I told you. I don’t need?—"

Kimberly’s voice faded into the background. Jake stood dumbstruck before he took a hesitant step backwards. The basket of neatly folded clothing lay in a large puddle at their feet. The flowers lay strewn on top of them .

Time stopped. The only sound he was conscious of was the erratic beat of his heart pounding in his ears. He wasn’t even aware that he had let go of the roses, until he spied them laying on top of the clothing. His gaze darted to the swelling girth of Kimberly’s midriff. She was well into her pregnancy. Her stomach strained against the thin cotton of her maternity shirt.

“I, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” His voice cracked, and the sound echoed through the quiet house. His breath was ragged. Time became temporarily suspended.

He finally dragged his eyes back to her face. This wasn’t how he wanted to remember her, yet it would likely be the last time he ever saw her again, because there was no way he could remain in San Francisco now. The pink coloring that naturally stained her cheeks was gone. Her skin had paled to a ghostly white. Her dark chestnut eyes were wide, and tears glazed each of them. Her mouth molded into a small ‘o’ and her pouty lips weakly colored into the softest of pinks.

He closed his eyes and willed the sight before him to be only an illusion and the hurt that clenched at his soul to be only a figment of his imagination. He opened his eyes with a sense of dread, stared briefly at her stomach and then sagged his shoulders in defeat. “I won’t bother you again.”

He turned away from her, his feet weighed down with the anchor of despair as he walked away. His hand shook when he reached for the screen door and pulled it open far harder than necessary. He walked out onto the porch and extinguished a loud, pained sigh. The screen door slammed behind him.

He took the steps two at a time and stopped when he reached the edge of the sidewalk. A sharp pain clawed at his heart, and he felt light-headed. He walked away without taking a final glance behind him.

“Jake,” he heard her call from the house. He increased the pace of his steps and crossed the street .

“Please Jake.”

He heard the creak of the porch door but refused to turn around. He pulled his keys from his pocket as he approached the car. He kept his head lowered.

“Wait,” she called to his retreating back.

“Jake, I have to talk to you. Please, you don’t understand?—"

The sound of screeching tires against asphalt assaulted the otherwise quiet morning. A loud thud followed and then silence. Jake stopped in mid-stride, paralyzed. “Please, God, no.” He whipped around to look behind him.

“Kimberly—" He rushed to where she lay motionless in the middle of the suburban street.

The driver of the car approached him in near hysterics. “Oh man. I didn’t see her... she ran out of nowhere, mister. Oh man, oh man,” the teenage boy rushed on in a panic-filled voice.

Jake knelt down next to Kimberly’s unmoving form. He wiped away the wild tangles of hair from her face. “Come on, sweetheart. Open your eyes,” he urged in a shattered breath.

A small crowd gathered around them. Many ran from inside their homes at the sound of the commotion coming from the street. Jake sensed, rather than saw them, gather around. His head darted up. “Somebody, call an ambulance,” he commanded in an unsteady voice. “Somebody, please call an ambulance!”