Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Jarrod
Inever forgot you. And I never will.
As I heated up some chocolate lava cake, those words came back to me.
I’d whispered them.
Anderson had cuddled against me.
And he’d promptly fallen asleep.
Sheesh.
Eventually, he’d rolled off and curled into a ball. Tempted as I was to spoon him and hold him forever, a couple of things couldn’t wait—the condom and the sticky cum all over me.
Also all over Anderson, but that wasn’t quite as critical.
I disposed of the condom in his bathroom and hopped into the shower. While managing to keep my hair dry, I also washed away the remnants of our mind-blowing lovemaking session.
My stomach had rumbled.
Remembering the nights of eating brownies after making love, back all those years ago, I decided to heat up the lava cake. I’d coax some into him and we’d either make love again, or he’d at least let me clean him up.
As the microwave beeped, I heard a noise.
When the final beep sounded, a young woman appeared in the doorway of the kitchen.
Yeah, no doubt who this is.
That was my first thought. The second, and far more important, was to thank Christ I’d put on my boxers and jeans. Even though they weren’t done up.
All the blinds were closed against the dark near-winter night…so I’d considered not putting anything on.
“I’m Adele.” Boldly, she held out her hand.
I took her hand. Her grip impressed me as we shook. “Jarrod.”
Finally, she let me go. “I figured. Uncle Damien said something about Dad meeting up with an old friend. Since he has never, to my knowledge, brought someone home, I didn’t think anything of coming home.”
“It’s almost midnight.” A glance at the microwave clock told me that.
“Paget started throwing up. At first Uncle Shaw thought she just ate too much popcorn—which wouldn’t be like her, but we all get upset stomachs from time to time.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Uncle Damian took her temperature, and it’s super high.
I decided I’d rather come home than risk catching something.
” She pointed to the microwave. “That said, we sat next to each other at the cinema, were all in my car, and then we crashed in the media room at their house. I’d say if she’s sick, I probably have it too. Still, I just wanted to come home.”
“And they just let you leave?”
She waved me off. “I sent a DM to the family chain when I got home. Uncle Shaw responded that Paget’s still sick and to take care.” She eyed me. “I’m seventeen.”
“I’m aware.” I opened the microwave and gingerly pulled the plate out. I put it on the kitchen table.
“Oh my God. Is that lava cake from Fifties?” She might’ve squealed that.
“You’re welcome to have some. Is your stomach okay?” I didn’t want to feed her something that might make her ill later.
She waved me off again. “I’m fine. Rock-solid stomach. Paget’s always been a bit sensitive. I’m more like Sedona—a rock.”
“These are Shaw and Damien’s twins?” I opened the first cupboard and found glasses. I pulled three down. “Water? Milk?”
“Yeah, they’re the twins.” She cocked her head. “So how much of an old friend are you to my dad. I’ll get the milk.” She headed to the fridge.
I blinked. “We…well…college.” I cleared my throat.
“So before I was born.”
“Yeah.”
“Uh-huh. You know, he never talks about that. Grandma used to tell me about his talent acting.”
“She never came to see his shows.”
Her gaze shot to mine. “She worried she’d make him too nervous. I think, later on, she regretted that. Especially when she couldn’t convince him to try amateur theater out here.”
“Your father is incredibly talented.”
She poured a glass of milk. Then held the jug as if to ask me.
I nodded.
“You know he’s really my uncle, right?”
“He considers you his child. Never doubt that.” I could say this with absolute certainty. I knew Anderson. Had always known him. Hopefully still did.
“I know.” She opened another cupboard and grabbed three plates. “I assume Dad’s joining us? Or were you sneaking around?”
I laughed. “I was going to take him some in bed. Seemed the considerate thing to do.”
She waved me. “Don’t let me interfere. I’ll take my third and head upstairs with my milk.” She pursed her lips. “Are you going to be here in the morning?”
“I hadn’t thought that far.” Well, I had—but I didn’t want to be presumptuous. Mila was taking care of my goats—I could afford to stay overnight.
“I can make myself scarce in the morning.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Anderson wandered into the kitchen, wearing a bathrobe. He gave me a glance that was a cross between panic and relief.
Probably panic that Adele was home and relief I wasn’t totally naked.
He pulled her into an embrace. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Paget’s sick.”
His gaze sharpened. “And you?”
“I’m fine, Dad. I wouldn’t have driven home if I wasn’t feeling fine.”
Still, he pressed a hand to her forehead.
I suppressed the longing. Such a simple gesture—parent to child. Witnessing it sort of stole my breath.
She swatted his hand away.
This close, I was able to see she actually had several inches on him. Since he wasn’t all that short, she was quite tall.
“Let’s eat the cake before it cools and I have to heat it up again.” Because standing here talking with me in just my jeans, with my smattering of chest hair, wasn’t weird at all.
Anderson’s eyes lit. “Yes, please.”
Adele sat on a chair with a leg tucked under her.
Her father opened the cutlery drawer. He handed me a knife and put three forks on the table.
Our gazes met.
I read gentle compassion. Mixed with a bit of gratitude. I sat and proceeded to cut the cake into three equal pieces. The cake wasn’t actually that large and split three ways made it even less—but it would satisfy my craving for chocolate. Something that often happened after sex.
Which I was quite certain Anderson remembered.
Adele sank her fork into the concoction—crispy on the outside with gooey warm melted chocolate in the middle. “Okay, so Uncle Damien said you were ‘old friends’.” She used air quotes.
Again, my gaze sought Anderson. His daughter appeared pretty sharp—she’d figured out what we’d been doing. I’d answered her question earlier—but evasively. Clearly she wasn’t going to let that rest.
“We were lovers.” Anderson pressed his knee against mine under the table. “And I hurt him.”
“You didn’t—”
He glared.
I sighed. “Yeah, okay, you did.”
“And I’m sorry for that.”
“Is this because he came home to take care of me? Was I the cause of the heartache?”
“No.” Anderson and I said the word at the same time.
She rolled her eyes.
“No,” Anderson reiterated. “I was happy to make the choice. Don’t ever doubt that. Things might’ve been…unorthodox. And I miss your mother a lot—”
“She was a drug addict.” Adele took a bite of cake.
Anderson jerked, as if struck. “I never—”
“Grandma told me. Just before she died. She wanted to make certain I understood what you’d done. What you’d sacrificed. She also wanted to warn me that drugs were never the way out. I think, because she saw me as sensitive, that I might fall into that trap.”
“Trap?” I asked the question since Anderson was still a little pale.
“Drugs. Drinking. Random sex with strangers.”
“Ah.” This time, Anderson spoke. “She never told me.”
“She didn’t want you to worry. You had enough going on without dealing with any crap that might come my way as a teenager and then as an adult.” She forked another piece. “I wasn’t into that stuff anyway.”
“You might when you go to university. When you’re away from home for the first time.” A bit of color had returned to his cheeks.
That reassured me.
Somewhat.
“Aunt Yvonne’s money.” She scrutinized her fork. “I’m going to study my ass off. I want to get into the optometry school—that’s one of the toughest programs in the country.”
“That’s ambitious.” I grinned. “I like your spirit.”
“And before you fret, Dad, I have a backup plan.”
“Teaching or medical school.” His even tone didn’t fool me. This was overwhelming him.
“Well, you’ll have Jarrod to keep you company.
I’m off to bed. I’ll be careful in the morning.
” She hopped up. She moved to her dad and pressed a kiss to his temple.
“I like him.” She winked at me. Then she popped the last piece of cake in her mouth.
As she chewed, she rinsed her plate and put it into the dishwasher.
Then she downed the last dregs of her milk, then put the glass in the dishwasher as well.
She gave a little wave and then clomped up the stairs.
I cleared my throat.
Anderson’s gaze shot to mine.
“I like her.”
He cracked a smile. “I think she liked you too.”
I placed my hand on his as it rested by his plate. “I have no expectations—”
His eyes narrowed. “Do you want this to mean something? I know it’s really soon…
but I never forgot you. Never stopped wondering how you were doing.
Holding myself back from calling you was hard.
But I’d hurt you—or at least I thought I had.
And staying away from you was the price to pay for that hurt. ”
“No. I never saw it like that. I always assumed you had a reason for what you did. And, for the record, I could’ve searched you out. I could’ve made the effort. But I valued you—and your decision.”
“I was wrong.” He blinked. “Really wrong.”
“You did what you had to do with the cards you were dealt—I respect that. I always have and I always will. Don’t feel sorry for me. I’ve made a good life for myself. In my own way, I’m happy. Now…would I be happier with you in my life? Possibly.” I squeezed his hand. “Probably.”
He cleared his throat. “Where do we go from here?”
“We finish our cake and milk, and then we go back to bed. We have your daughter’s permission, after all.” I grinned.
After a long moment, he smiled back. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
And so we did.