Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Jarrod
Whatever I expected for Anderson’s home, the charming house on Fifth Avenue wasn’t it.
In fact, the thing looked more like a cottage with the yellow siding, sloped roof, and what I considered gingerbread accents. “It’s lovely.”
I’d followed him here and parked in the front as he indicated.
He parked around back and made his way to meet me at the front door.
“I grew up in this house. Come in.”
Although we had yet to have snow, I had some mud on my boots, so I immediately removed them.
The space was compact. From the living room, I could see through to the dining room and then the kitchen.
“Let me take your coat, and then I’ll give you the ten-cent tour.”
He smiled as he helped me out of my red-and-black plaid jacket.
“You remind me of a lumberjack.”
I gazed at his endearing face. He’d always been shorter than me. And our builds were so very different. He was lithe and nimble. I was stockier and more solid.
After he removed my coat, we stepped into the living room.
The couch had a vibrant red-rose floral design. The matching high-back arm chairs were a deep crimson that matched the pattern. The coffee table was a solid wood construction, and they faced a wood-burning fireplace.
Anderson waved. “I never use the thing. Bad for the environment. And I probably should’ve redecorated at some point. These were Mom’s things, though. Adele’s attached to them. I mean, we both miss my mom, but Adele clings to anything that denotes my mother’s presence.”
“Maybe when she goes away to university?”
He shrugged. “That’s possible. But I’ll be paying her tuition, residence, meals, books…” He winced.
I placed my arm against his shoulder blades. “You’ll work things out.”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Damien’s sister-in-law, his dead wife’s twin sister, has offered to pay for Adele’s school.”
“Really?” I found that hard to fathom. I didn’t have any close friends—let alone ones who might consider helping me like that.
“Paget and Sedona’s step-father, my boss, is…
” He closed one eye—something he always did when he was deep in thought.
“Well, wealthy would be the correct term, I suppose. The twins can go anywhere they want. Study anything they want. Apparently their aunt has been very careful with her savings and has the money to support Adele.” He gestured.
“My only other option is to mortgage the house. But I always saw this as Adele’s future.
Hell, I don’t even know if she wants to come back to Mission City to be an optometrist.”
“I’m sure someone here will be happy to have her join their practice. Or she can start her own.” I kept my hand against his back—absorbing some of the warmth. He always had run hotter than me. In many ways.
“I didn’t bring you back here to figure out my life’s problems.” He offered me a wicked smile.
Go with the flow. “Your bedroom, perchance?”
“Yep. There are two bedrooms and a small bathroom on the second floor. Adele and I were up there for years. When Mom died, my daughter encouraged me to move into the primary suite. I wouldn’t have, but I realized she wanted more privacy.
Sharing her bathroom with her dad was a bit much.
I could’ve argued—” He shrugged. “—but she was a good kid who asked for very little. Granting her more space was the least I could do.”
“Is it weird? Sleeping in your mom’s room?”
“In that she died in the room? That brings a measure of comfort. She wanted to be with the people she loved in the house that meant so very much to her. I feel her spirit sometimes, you know? Like when I’m frustrated with Adele, I can hear Mom telling me to be patient.
” He turned to face me directly. “She would’ve loved you.
I’m sorry I never gave you that opportunity. ”
“She lives through you. That’s a precious gift.”
His smile was a little shy. “She lives through Adele, too. She always told my daughter that she could do anything she set her mind to. Her mind is set on science, and I’ve nurtured that. She teased me today. Said she wanted to go to theater school. To follow in my footsteps.”
I cocked my head. “Regrets?”
“No. Adele needed me. My mom needed me. I landed just fine—great job, great friends, great daughter…”
“But still lonely.”
He bit his lower lip. “Well, yeah.”
I pulled him close. “Not for tonight, okay?”
“Well, yeah.”
He rested his head against my shoulder and I pulled him into my arms. So damn familiar—to the incongruous woodsy scent and his slim frame. Oh, and his ass that fit so perfectly in my hands. I whispered into his ear. “Make me remember.”
A phrase we used all the time.
He pulled back to meet my gaze. “Yeah. That.” Then he grinned. “But first I gotta put the dessert in the fridge.” He pointed to the cloth bag he’d brought in and casually put on the coffee table.
“And I have to piss. Great milkshake. Better than I remembered.”
“Yes, that. Why don’t you use the guest bathroom upstairs? I hate to say this, but my daughter is more fastidious than I am.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, okay.” I’d spotted the staircase, so finding my way would be easy.
Just before I left him—even for just a few minutes—I drew him close.
He must’ve read my intentions, because he wrapped his arms around my neck and tugged me down for a kiss.
Where I thought I might get passion and fierceness—because that’d always been our specialty—I got tenderness. A quick brushing of the lips. A small taste of what was to come.
He pulled back, pecked my cheek, stepped away, grabbed the bag, then disappeared.
I headed up the stairs. As much as I wanted to shower, I figured we could do that afterward. So I did everything that needed to be done, then I headed back downstairs.
Anderson stood in the kitchen, trying to put the soaps, and other items he’d clearly bought at the market, up on a high shelf.
Instead of watching him struggle, I nabbed them and set them presumedly out of reach of teenage girls.
He laughed. “I love that you’re taller than me and I’m jealous at the same time.” He huffed. “Adele’s taller than me as well.”
“You’re not worried she might find the gifts?”
“Uh, no. She does not spend her spare time in the kitchen.”
“How will you get them down?”
“I guess you’ll just have to be here to help me.”
My heart beat faster.
“Or I can use the step stool.”
My stomach sank.
He turned to place his hand on my chest. “I know which I’d prefer. Now, come to bed.”
“With pleasure.”
His bedroom was a soothing dove gray with burgundy accents—curtains, comforter, and throw pillows. “No floral?”
He laughed yet again. “Mom said I was free to redecorate. I let Adele help me—so that she didn’t feel I was getting rid of her grandmother’s things. They’re in her hope chest—for when she feels ready to deal with them.”
“Ah.”
“My daughter—the sentimentalist.” He grabbed the hem of his henley and yanked it over his head. “I doubt she got that from me.”
Breathing proved difficult as he exposed all that perfect porcelain skin.
He arched an eyebrow. “I expect reciprocity.”
“Yeah, okay.” I’d worn a cable-knit sweater earlier, but the market proved warmer than I expected, so I’d stripped down to my T-shirt. Now, I untucked it from my jeans and yanked it over my head.
He just stared. “God, you’re as beautiful as ever.”
I didn’t always feel beautiful. I wasn’t slim like the other guys. I had a bit of padding around the waist. All that being said, I had decent muscles. The job required a lot of heavy lifting. “I don’t know what to say.”
“How about you strip and we get into bed and let our bodies do that talking? I know I’ve overshared tonight.”
“No.” I held his gaze. “There’s no such thing.
I want to know all about your life. I’ve missed so much of it.
” I wanted to demand that I not miss any more, but he likely wasn’t in the right frame of mind to hear that.
He needed time to adjust to the idea of having me in his life again. If he lets me stay.