Chapter 6
six
. . .
Indi
T he smell of something truly delicious wakes me from a deep sleep. I open my eyes and look around the dimly lit room. Nothing looks familiar. A pair of men's jeans are hanging over a chair and a sock sits single and lonely on the floor. I gasp and turn over quickly. The other side of the bed is empty and untouched … thank goodness. My arm presses instinctively against my side, and all of it comes back to me, the whole big fucking ordeal.
I push to sitting. I'm in my favorite sleeping T-shirt. It takes me a second to relive last night. Strangely enough, it started and ended in Jameson Wilde's arms. He caught me as I collapsed from pain and exhaustion at his front door. After the shower, I was too tired to have my ribs wrapped. I could barely keep my eyes open, so Jameson carried me into the bedroom. Tiny flashes of him tucking me in, gently, and brushing a wet strand of hair off my face come back to me. None of his behavior matches up with the Jameson Wilde I grew up with.
"Pancakes," I say on an excited breath as the aroma floating through the house matches up with the food memory. There's a bottle of aspirin and glass of water sitting on the nightstand. I take two aspirin. My headache has lessened, but my ribs still ache. I pull on a bra and shorts, grab my toothbrush and scurry down the hallway to the bathroom. I look like hell. I comb my fingers through my hair. The warm shower felt so good, I nearly fell asleep leaning against the tile wall and letting the water run over me. Now that I'm clean and slightly caught up on sleep, my head is clearer, and my stomach is empty. I've never experienced such extreme hunger as I have in the last few days.
I check my reflection once more and crinkle my nose at how bad I look, just like someone who spent the last few days sitting on a bus. Taking me in unconditionally and then making pancakes doesn't wipe away all the shit Jameson pulled in high school, but it sure as heck doesn't hurt. Especially the pancake part.
I reach the kitchen and stop short when I discover Jameson is not the pancake chef. A young girl, preteen or early teen at the most, with short, dark brown hair, jean cutoffs and a glittery silver ankle bracelet is standing over the stove moving and shaking to the music in her earbuds. She's humming loudly to a song I don't recognize as she spins around on bare feet. She's wearing eyeliner and mascara around big blue eyes. "Oh, hello, pancakes are almost done." She points to her face with the end of her spatula. "How does the eyeliner look? I'm going for Taylor Swift, but I'm worried it's more Cleopatra."
I stop and tilt my head to the side. "I'd say just a little thinner of a line, and you'll be right at Swift level."
She looks pleased with the suggestion and turns back to the stove. "Do you like thick or thin pancakes? I like them thin for a high syrup to pancake ratio."
"Thin works for me."
She glances over her shoulder. Something about her smile is familiar. "I'm Rio, by the way."
"Hi Rio. I'm Indi."
She nods and expertly flips a pancake. "My mom showed me how to cook pancakes when I was seven. Now, I'm a pro."
"I can see that."
She stops and turns back to me. "I guess we have to get sleepyhead up. He'll be grumpy because he fell asleep on the couch. Oh Jameson, Sir James, pancakes are ready!" she calls into the living room.
I look through to the living room couch. There are three empty beer bottles on the coffee table. Jameson is shirtless and on his stomach. His arm hangs to the ground. I didn't imagine the size of his arms. He was big in high school, but now he's positively massive.
Rio huffs in aggravation. "And he tells me I sleep like a rock."
I'm trying to piece together the pieces of the puzzle. Did Finnegan Wilde have another child, a daughter this time round? The man did seem to have a knack for getting women pregnant, but last I heard, Nate was still the baby of the family.
Rio puts three pancakes on a plate and hands it to me with a sweet smile. "Are you his girlfriend?"
"Me?" I ask. "No, just an old acquaintance."
"I kind of wish you were his girlfriend. Don't tell him I told you this, but I think he's lonely." Without taking a breath she turns her head to yell toward the living room. "Dad! Breakfast."
I turn around expecting to have the mystery solved, but it's only Jameson. He sits up on the couch, and I pause to catch my breath. He's certainly filled out.
"It's about time, Sir James. I've got breakfast ready."
"Stop calling me that." Jameson rubs his face and then continues right up to his scalp to give his thick hair a good raking.
I'm slowly putting those puzzle pieces together, but the picture they're forming doesn't make sense. Jameson reaches the kitchen and looks at me almost as if he forgot I stumbled onto his front stoop last night. He gazes at me a long moment and seems to be searching for words.
"Awkward," Rio mumbles as she turns back to the stove.
Jameson rakes his fingers through his hair again. His arms look even bigger when they're in motion. "How'd you sleep?" The words finally crack out of his dry throat.
"Solidly. I'm sorry I kicked you out of your bed."
He clears his throat as he heads to the coffeepot. "I don't mind the couch."
"Bullshit," Rio mutters under her breath.
"Enough comments from the peanut gallery," he says.
Rio spins around so fast grease flies off the spatula. "Did you just call your only child, heir to your vast fortune and person who will be in charge of wiping drool off your chin when you're ninety, a peanut? And what the heck is a peanut gallery? Is that where they keep painted portraits of peanuts?"
I'm still absorbing the news that Jameson Wilde is a father, but her question makes me laugh. "The peanut gallery was what they called the cheap, impossible-to-see-the-stage seats back in the old days of theater and vaudeville acts," I say.
Jameson hands me a cup of coffee. "Really?"
"Yep."
"You always were one of those brainy nerds under all that beaut—" he stops himself short.
"Aha," Rio says. "You were going to say beauty, and I heartily agree. Indi is going to help me with my makeup later, right?"
"Only if by helping you mean she's going to help you take it off," Jameson says. "You look like Cleopatra, and I don't mean that as a compliment."
Rio drops a pancake unceremoniously on a plate. "Mean people are only allowed one pancake, but no maple syrup. Indi, talk sense into the grumpy old man."
I look at Jameson. He's wearing a crooked smile, and his brow is cocked.
"How old are you, Rio?" I ask.
"Thirteen," she says with a chin lift.
"In six months," Jameson adds as he drowns the one cake in syrup.
"Five months, three weeks and six days," Rio says emphatically.
I pour syrup onto my pancakes. "Let me just say, Rio, I wish I'd held off on the makeup thing because frankly, it's such a pain in the rear. It's expensive and messy, and my eyes were always burning from mascara and eyeliner. There's nothing better than getting up, washing your face and going out the door with no makeup. I do it all the time now."
Rio seems to be considering my advice. Her bow shaped mouth twists in thought. "I suppose you have a point. This stuff does make my eyes burn." She puts down the spatula. "Don't eat my pancakes. I'll be right back." She dashes off toward the bathroom.
Jameson nods a thank you toward me, and we carry our plates to the breakfast table. I ate at the same table many times, but back then, it was Zach sitting across from me.
My hunger temporarily overrides my curiosity for a few bites, then I put my fork down and stare at Jameson. He's mostly concentrating on his coffee. His gaze, the silver-blue one that always looked otherworldly to me, fixes first on my lips and then my face. "Question on your mind, Jones?"
"Oh no, not at all." I lean forward. "You're a dad? How the hell did that happen?"
He laughs. "Shit, I take back the brainy nerd comment. Would you like me to draw a chart like the ones they used to put up in health class?"
"You are still such an asshole." I grumble and stab my next bite of pancake.
"I met Rio's mom right after high school. Nicole was hitchhiking through town and got a job at the diner. Then—I refer you back to the health class charts for the next portion of the story. She left town, pregnant, without telling me until three years ago. Then I get the surprise call of a lifetime. She's through being a single mom. She wants to find herself and all that shit. Next thing I know, I'm a dad. And frankly, it's the best fucking thing that's happened in my life."
"I heard that," Rio says as she enters the dining room. She practically throws her plate on the table and runs out. I don't have time to ask where she's going before she returns with a big jar that's filled with dollar bills. She energetically twists off the cap and shoves the open jar at Jameson. Her blue eyes sparkle my direction. "Look closely at this jar. There's a horse or a scooter inside of it. Haven't decided which yet. Probably the scooter because Uncle Zander says he has the perfect horse for me at the ranch—once I've taken some more lessons." She pushes the jar closer to Jameson.
"My wallet is in the bedroom. You'll have to wait, Miss Greedy McMoneypants."
Someone knocks on the front door and it opens. "I brought donuts because I'm that kind of guy." The voice is oddly familiar, but I can't put a face to it. However, the face across from me tightens with a grimace.
Rio has an entirely different reaction. She places the jar down and skips to the entry. "You better have a jelly donut in that box."
"Would I forget your jelly donut?" the voice asks.
Jameson is staring at me as Rio skips back to the dining room holding a large pink box. A tall man steps into the room next. It takes us both a few seconds to recognize each other.
"Holy crap," Zach says. "Indi, is that you?"
I can still feel Jameson's intense gaze on the side of my face as I stand up to greet him. "Zach?" I look past him. "Is your wife with you?"
Zach smiles. He's still as handsome as ever with his boy-next-door, wholesome good looks. He was built in high school, but like Jameson, he's filled out too. "Audrey and I broke up two years ago. I'm working in Bassett, at a real estate brokerage." He looks at Jameson. "You didn't tell me Indi was back in town."
Before Jameson can explain that I'm an unexpected guest, Zach grabs my hand and pulls me into a hug. "Holy shit, I can't believe it's you." I don't have time to warn him about the ribs before he lifts me off my feet.
I hear a chair scrape the floor behind me. "Put her down," Jameson says angrily enough that Rio grows quiet and sets down her donut.
Zach lowers me to my feet. I'm still holding my breath against the pain. I sense some waves of angry heat coming off Zach. "Well, shit, here we go again," he says dryly. "Wait, are you two together?"
"What?" We both answer with the same stunned tone.
"No, we're not together," I say briskly. I have no idea why I spit it out so fast, but my quick response makes the little muscle twitch in Jameson's jaw. I used to watch that little twitch grow in intensity whenever he was mad or upset. It happened a lot.
"Indi has some bruised ribs," Jameson says coldly. He picks up his plate and carries it into the kitchen.
"Shit, Indi, I'm sorry. How'd that happen?'
"Clumsy accident. It's fine."
Rio looks glum as she stares at her dad's empty chair. "Why is he so mad?" she asks Zach.
The whole dining room scene is surreal, and it's made more so by Jameson's reaction to Zach's arrival. The man walked in with donuts, which seems to indicate they're still friends. I turn to Zach. "What did you mean when you said 'here we go again'?"
Zach looks down and shakes his head. It's the whole prom night dismissal all over again. "Fine, I'll let you two boys work out your little spat." I turn to Rio. She's still wearing a sweet frown. "How's that jelly donut? Those are my favorite, too, but your pancakes were so delicious, even a jelly donut can't compete." Her smile returns. There's a small gap between her front teeth that makes her even cuter.
I smile at Zach. "It was nice seeing you, Zach. I've got to pack up my things and head over to Kiki's house." I have no idea if Kinsley is home, but it seems I've overstayed my welcome here.
"Wait, Indi, we should get some dinner. You know, catch up on old times," Zach suggests.
"That would be nice, Zach. Thanks."
I'm in the bedroom packing my things when Jameson knocks. He's holding my phone. "It's charged. Looks like you've missed some calls and texts."
I glance at the screen. Most of the texts are from Landon. Easy enough to ignore.
Jameson looks down at my duffle. "So, you're leaving?"
"I'm sure you're glad, but thank you for having me. I'll text Kiki. I'm hoping I can crash at her place while I figure out what to do with my life."
Some of the hurt smooths from his face, and he swallows hard, as if relieved. "So, you're staying in town? In Rockhurst?"
"For now. But not long. There's nothing here for me anymore."
The hurt returns. "Right. Well then, good luck with figuring out your life," he says coldly.
"Looks like the old, temperamental Jameson is back. Why the hell are you so pissed off all of a sudden? I thought you'd finally changed."
Jameson's gaze always pulls me in like a magnet, and as hard as I try to look away, I can't manage it. His eyes glint with an emotion I can't easily define. "Why the hell does everyone say that? Why does everyone expect me to change? Maybe you're the ones who need to change—you and Zach and West—the whole fucking town. Maybe my brothers and me were the only thing real and genuine about this town, and it was the rest of you who needed to drop the fucking act. How did that big quest for a spectacular future and career go for you, Indi, cuz after you showed up on my doorstep looking as wet, hungry and lost as a stray puppy, something tells me it was a big fail—" He stops when he sees the tears, tears I try desperately to stop. He sighs and shakes his head. "Sorry."
"Apology not accepted." I swipe clumsily at the tears and pick up my duffle. "Thank you for the food and shelter."
"Indi, wait." He reaches for my hand as I swish past him.
I pull it out of his reach and look at him through tear-fogged eyes. "I won't be in town long, so I hope everything goes well for you and Rio."
The jaw twitch starts up. He nods. "Hope all goes well for you, too," he says quietly.
I can still hear Zach and Rio talking and laughing in the dining room as I hurry to the entry and slip out the front door. Then I let the tears fall like rain.