Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
THEA
A month later
I was nervous, way more nervous than I should have been. Joe was coming to Boston for the first time to see me, and I didn't know what to think.
Walking around my small apartment, I kept checking on things.
I fluffed the pillows on the couch for probably the tenth time.
I jumped when the doorbell rang and smoothed my hands on my jeans before practically sprinting to the front door.
With my hand clasped around the doorknob, I took a deep breath.
I must have waited for a few beats too long because Joe's voice came through the door. “I can hear you breathing, Thea.”
I could hear the smile in his voice, and I laughed softly as I opened the door.
The second my eyes landed on him, my pulse lunged.
He stepped through the doorway, dropped his bag to the floor, and pulled me into his strong embrace.
I felt startlingly alive as if I'd been electrified.
At the same time, the tension coiled inside me eased, and I started to relax.
Joe had this weird opposite effect on me, where it was just so amazing to see him, so good that my hormones were always super excited about it, yet it also felt right and easy. I could relax and be myself with him in a way that I wasn't with anyone.
He held me, just long enough for me to absorb the imprint of him, then stepped back. His eyes skated over my face. “Hey, sweetheart. You look nervous.”
I cast him a sheepish smile. “I was, but now it's okay because you're here.”
Closing the door behind him, I swung my arm in an arc. “This is my apartment.”
Joe stepped past me, his alert gaze arcing about the small space. “I like it.” His eyes made their way back to mine.
“It's small, but rentals cost a fortune in Boston,” I commented.
I lived in a walk-up on the second floor of a cute little brownstone right near the Charles River.
Like most walk-up apartments, it was created from reconfigured space in the original home.
This floor had a small efficiency kitchen with a living room and a bedroom with the bathroom off to the side.
The high ceilings created a sense of spaciousness.
“How was your drive?”
“It's a pretty drive from Maine down here, so it was easy.”
I glanced at the clock in the kitchen. “Do you want to eat here or go out? It's your call since you're the one who had to drive.”
Joe's eyes lingered on my face. “Sweetheart, I just want to be with you, so whatever is easier for you. Although, you know I like to eat.”
Heat bloomed through me while my heart thumped in reaction to his comment. “I do. I thought maybe we could go to an Italian place. You always tell me that's the one thing we don't have enough of in Haven’s Bay. There are tons of Italian restaurants in Boston.”
“Let's do it. Then we can come back here and just hang out.”
Joe caught my hand and reeled me to him when I started to turn away.
“What?” I asked breathlessly.
“It's just good to see you.”
Then he was kissing me, and I forgot to be nervous about anything. Kisses with Joe were like diving into flames. Everything he did ignited the fire higher and higher.
Moments later after he’d fetched his bag from the floor and put it in my bedroom, we walked outside.
“Where did you park?” I asked as we descended the stairs together.
He gestured at his SUV in front of the building. “I scored a good spot.”
“I actually have driveway parking, so you can pull into the spot behind me.”
“You have two spots?”
“Yup, serious luxury,” I teased.
I waited while he parked behind me, smiling at his Maine license plate. A minute later, his hand was curled around mine, and we were walking down the sidewalk together. That feeling that still was fresh but familiar stole through me. Being with Joe simply felt good.
In the months since Christmas, I’d gone up to Haven’s Bay every other weekend. Joe had offered to come down here, but I preferred going up there. It was a respite from the hustle and bustle of the city, and I enjoyed being in my hometown in a way I hadn't anticipated.
One major bonus was I didn't have to worry about where to stay because I always stayed with Joe.
Joe leaned back in his chair, his half-grin sending my belly into a series of somersaults.
“That was damn good,” he said, patting his belly, which was a drum-tight wall of muscle.
I laughed. “I thought you'd like it.”
“Do you come here often?” he asked, glancing around.
I’d brought him to a small Italian restaurant on a corner near my apartment. It wasn’t the fanciest, but the food was fresh and delicious.
“I don't eat out too much because Boston is filled with amazing restaurants, and I could go broke quickly.”
“Maybe I should come see you more often,” he teased.
His gaze sobered as he leaned his elbows on the table and reached for one of my hands.
I totally had a thing for Joe's hands. Gah!
They were like all of him, lean and muscled.
He definitely had working hands, and by some miracle, they were rarely dirty.
He told me he occasionally still did mechanic work but didn't have much time for it.
He also claimed to have the best soap ever to keep his hands clean from the mechanic filth, as he put it.
The calloused surface of his thumb brushing on my wrist sent fire sparks skittering over my skin and heat spiraling in its wake. I tried to focus.
“I like coming to Haven’s Bay,” I answered honestly. I really did.
“I know, but I don't want you to feel like you have to come to me all the time,” he pressed.
“I don't feel like I have to,” I insisted.
“Okay, let me rephrase. It's important for me to be putting as much effort into us as you are. Plus, good food is a bonus. I've probably eaten at every restaurant in the area surrounding Haven’s Bay a few hundred times.”
“I know Joe but—”
He squeezed my hand. “Thea, you're starting to fret, aren't you?”
Joe knew me so well. Even now. He'd known me better than anyone in high school and that knowledge carried into the present. He tuned in to me easily.
I had been fretting about how we were going to do this.
We hadn't said the words, but I knew I loved Joe.
I had already fallen for him. All over again.
It wasn't exactly a hardship. In fact, it was very easy to love Joe.
He was the kind of man just about anyone would want—attentive, caring, and smoking hot in bed.
But his life was in Haven's Bay, and I was here in Boston. I didn’t want to be yoked to my job, but I'd never considered my career path taking me back to Haven's Bay.
I needed to figure it out. I didn't want to move just because of Joe, but then, I fretted maybe that was the very best reason to move.
“Thea?” he prompted again, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand.
I brought my focus to him. “How do you know I was fretting?”
“Sweetheart, the gears in your brain are practically loud enough for me to hear.”
Heat flared in my cheeks. “Okay, so I was fretting.”
“Didn't we already have this conversation? We'll see how it plays out. People regularly commute to Boston for work. They drive down to Wells and take the train. We can figure it out, or maybe I could move.”
I shook my head swiftly. To me, that was out of the question. He had a son who lived in Haven’s Bay. It didn’t make sense for him to move away.
Joe distracted me when his thumb curled inward and teased on the inside of my palm. His voice was low and gravelly with his reply. “Thea, let's just—” he began before shaking his head sharply. “Stop worrying,” he said more forcefully.
He leaned across the table and pressed his lips firmly to mine. It felt as if flames danced over my lips when he drew away.
“Okay,” I said.
“Sweetheart, if all we have to worry about is a few hours between us, that's not much. Everything else is good. Really good. Unless you're not telling me something.”
I blinked as emotion crashed through me. “No, everything's really good.”
His lips curled into a slow smile, and my belly swooped. “Okay, then. Now, I need dessert.”
“I thought you were full,” I teased.
“I am, but they've got some kind of double chocolate mousse thing. I can't not get it.”
I giggled, and he squeezed my hand. Joe had this way of knowing just when to lighten the moment with me, and it always worked. I loved him all the more for it because my emotions got ahead of my thoughts too often.
“I love you.” Speaking of my emotions getting ahead of things. Those words spilled out.
He’d flipped open the small dessert menu tucked between the condiments in the center of the table, and his eyes whipped up to mine, going dark. His gaze was fierce. “I love you too.”
“You didn't—”
He shook his head, and I fell quiet. “There's nothing wrong with saying how I feel, just like you did.”
“Is it too soon?” I asked.
“There you go fretting again,” he teased.
“Maybe if we hadn't known each other before, but I don’t think there are rules on how fast to fall in love.
It didn't make it any less meaningful before.
Sure, we were young and maybe a little stupid, but we didn't break up.
Your dad broke us up because he was a controlling asshole. I still think he's an asshole.”
I pressed my lips together before a smile unfurled across my face. “I know. It's just this time—” I stopped myself.
Joe leaned over again, kissing me quickly once more. “Sweetheart, what the hell happened? Who broke your heart? Because you are filled with doubts. That's always where you go.”
“Well, I don't know how this is going to work,” I protested.
“I'm not really sure either, but maybe we can just enjoy what's good.”
I hadn't filled in all the gaps for him when I told him why I was avoiding Ian and Jane before. I’d just told him I'd gotten dumped, and it was awkward, and I didn't want to explain it to them, all of which was true.
But what Joe didn't know, or frankly anyone for that matter, was the reason behind the breakup really stung.
I didn't know how to tell him. He was the only guy I had ever dated who hadn't let me down.
I'd seen a guy in college who had an entirely different definition than I did of what it meant to be exclusive, and I ended up feeling like an idiot. So, there was that. Dating was a special kind of hell. I seemed to have a radar for guys who just wanted to get laid but who tried to pretend they wanted more. Five years ago, I’d dealt with a bout of cervical cancer.
I’d had treatment and gone on to discover just a few months ago that I was infertile.
The first guy I'd dated in years had dropped me completely when I told him that piece of news. Fuck it all.
I didn't want to tell Joe because even though he already had a child, maybe he wanted another one, and maybe it was a big deal.
Joe squeezed my hand, again prompting, “Stop fretting. We're going to enjoy this dessert, and that's all you're allowed to do.”
I smiled over at him. “Okay.” This moment was better than all the other moments I had to worry about, so I managed to forget it all.
We enjoyed dessert, and I managed to kick my thoughts off that track until the universe laughed in my face.
The guy who’d I’d almost let myself get serious with came walking in.
He’d told me he thought he was falling for me.
He’d told me that we'd figure it out, and then he'd ghosted me. When I'd run into him on the sidewalk months later, of all places, he’d said kids were really important to him. That encounter occurred the day before I decided to escape to Haven’s Bay.
He was seated at a nearby table. It was impossible to miss the woman with him, who appeared to be pregnant. I didn't know how far along she was, but I was pretty sure it was further along than our breakup. Fuck my life. Joe saw me look over and nudged my knee with his under the table.
I looked back at him. Even though my devastation wasn't about the man sitting there, I knew I couldn't hide it. Joe knew me too well. This time, he didn't tell me not to fret.