Chapter 32
JAKE
“ I ’m leaving,” I shouted into Lucie’s ear over the pounding bass. The big band ensemble had been replaced by a well-known DJ playing old school French hip-hop, and Lucie was bobbing around on the side of the dance floor.
“Not yet! You just got here.” She tried to pull me onto the dance floor and pouted when I resisted. “Did you see Olivia?”
I nodded, but she could tell from my expression it hadn’t gone well. Not surprising really. After the way I’d treated her, the horrible things I’d said to her, I deserved what I got. And in this case, it didn’t look like it would be Olivia.
Lucie hugged me and I kissed her cheek, then headed for the door, sparing a parting glance at Olivia’s date who was happily devouring an enormous slice of cake. I had to tamp down the urge to go up to him and drag him outside. The idea of him touching her . . .
I had no right to be mad about it. After all, I’d told her to move on. I just didn’t realize at the time how fucking miserable I’d feel to see her with someone else. The sight of her in that dress, in his arms, had made me want to break something.
I hadn’t known what to expect by coming tonight. I had no plan, no grand gesture that would make up for how I’d treated her the past few weeks. And maybe I didn’t deserve her forgiveness, but that photo had given me hope.
Following her around all night trying to get her attention had reminded me of that desperate feeling I had as a kid willing my parents to notice I existed. I hated it. I could feel myself retreating into my glass box despite my determination to talk to her.
Now, it was clear that I was too late. Why had it taken me so goddamn long to figure out how I felt about her? Everyone else knew. And there I was like the world’s biggest idiot completely unaware that I loved her.
The problem was, now that I’d figured it out, I had no idea how to tell her. In my whole life, I’d never said those words to anyone. And if anyone had ever said them to me, I don’t remember and don’t think I’d have believed them anyway.
I had no idea what to do with it—this love that had somehow taken root inside me and had nowhere to go.
The moon hung low over the pyramid of the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower sparkled in the distance as I made my way across the cobblestoned courtyard.
If I hadn’t been so lost and empty, I could have admired the beauty of it, but now it just seemed to be mocking me.
I’d just made it to the edge of the courtyard when I heard someone call my name.
At first, I thought I’d imagined Olivia running after me, clutching the hem of her dress, my jacket still draped over her shoulders. But the sharp echo of her heels on the cobblestones and the urgency in her voice as she again called my name were all too real.
“Jake!” she cried again.
Gripped by a sudden panic that something was wrong, I took off toward her and caught her against me. I held her arms and took in her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. “What happened? Are you all right?”
“No, I’m not.” She shook her head and breathed raggedly, catching her breath. “I lied to you.”
“What?”
“Just now. I lied to you when I said I’d moved on.” Her eyes glistened as the words spilled out. “My date is my cousin Levi.”
“The one who lives in Italy?” I struggled to make sense of what she was telling me. That tiny glimmer of hope inside me expanded as she continued.
“Yes.” She nodded. “I didn’t want to come alone . . . in case you showed up. I wanted you to think I was fine. But I’m not fine, and I haven’t been since I left you.”
My heart pounded as I waited for her to go on. “The truth is, every day I waited to hear from you. But you never called or wrote and I . . . I was angry and wanted to hurt you like you hurt me. But I was wrong. I don’t want that.” She inhaled, voice quavering. “I just want you to hold me.”
Her words gutted me, and the tears falling down her cheeks nearly undid me. I pulled her to me roughly, kissing her mouth, her cheeks, her eyes, tasting the salt of her tears, all the while murmuring incoherent words of apology.
“Please don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I’m such an asshole.” I cupped her face in my hands and broke away long enough to meet her watery gaze. “Would it help if I told you I was miserable too?”
“You were?” She sniffed.
“A fucking wreck. Even the cat looked at me like I was the sorriest son of a bitch he’d ever seen.” I stroked my hand over her soft hair. “Everywhere I turned there were traces of you. Everything in that damn house reminds me of you now. Nothing is the same without you.”
She blinked at me through tear-spiked lashes. “But you said what we had wasn’t real.”
“I said that because it was too fucking real. It scared the hell out of me. It still does.” I wished I could take back every cruel word I’d said to her. “I just thought you’d be better off without me.”
“How could you think that?”
“Because I want to give you everything. Everything. But I’m afraid I won’t know how.” I couldn’t stop touching her, trying to get the courage to say what I had to say. I pressed my forehead against hers. “Olivia, I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never done it before.”
Her gaze softened like she already knew what was in my heart.
“I love you.” My breath caught as I said it, and I felt her tremble beneath me. “I think I’ve been waiting my whole life to love you.”
All those years I spent hanging around her family.
I didn’t know why. But I know now it wasn’t a coincidence.
And it wasn’t a coincidence that I found that old photo, or that I ran into Ben at the gas station, or that she was coming to France this summer.
I could scoff all I wanted at fate and the universe, but I knew it was true. I was made to love her.
She let out a ragged sob. But now that I’d finally said the words, I couldn’t stop. “I love you so much I don’t know what to do with it. And maybe you don’t feel the same . . .” It was hard to speak past the lump in my throat.
“Jake.” She ran her hand through my hair, stilling me, and forcing me to meet her eyes. “I love you too.”
I let out a shuddering breath and sealed her lips with mine, as if I could swallow the words, catch them on my tongue, and make them part of me.
“Tell me again,” I said against her lips.
“I love you. I love you,” she repeated as I rained kisses all over her face until her tears had turned to laughter that warmed me through. “I love you. I should have told you sooner, but I was afraid you’d never love me back. And then when you panicked when you thought we might have . . .”
I shook my head. “No, it wasn’t about that. I didn’t want to fuck up your plans or your future. I wasn’t panicked by the idea of having a baby with you.”
“You weren’t? Does that mean…?”
“It means if you want one someday, I’ll be more than happy to give you one. Or more. As many as you want.” I laced my fingers with hers and lowered my mouth to hers again, unable to let her go.
I bent my lips to her throat, felt her pulse flutter under her warm skin. “Come home with me.”
She shivered and nodded. “Let me tell Levi.”
* * *
We lay together in the bedroom of my Paris apartment, her cheek pressed to my chest where my heart still beat like a drum. I caressed the soft skin of her arm as she drew lazy circles with her finger over my chest.
“It’s not as big as I was expecting,” she said.
“You know that’s not something a man wants to hear right after sex, right?” I teased, tweaking her nose.
She laughed. “I mean your apartment, silly. I wasn’t expecting a studio. But I like it. I can help you decorate it.”
“I’m sure you will.” I glanced around at the sparse furnishings—a big bed, a couch, and table. It definitely needed a personality. “You could stay here if you want.”
“No, I told you I’m doing this on my own. Callie is stuck with me as a roommate. Even though I am tempted by this incredible view.” She waved her hand at the atelier windows that faced out toward Notre Dame and the Seine.
I admired her determination to work toward her goal on her own, but I couldn’t help wanting to take care of her. And I would—one day. I was already looking forward to a lifetime doing just that.
“So are you ever going to tell me about what you were doing in Shanghai?” she asked.
“Something tells me you already know.”
Raising up on her elbow, she studied me before responding. “I know that you sold your business. Why?”
“Because I no longer felt invested in it. And I realized I was using it as an excuse. I hid in my job, so I wouldn’t see how empty my life was. Like this apartment.”
She smiled and fell back down against my chest, pressing her lips to my sternum. If I were a cat, I’d be purring right about now. “Does that mean you’ll be here more often? In France, anyway?”
“That’s the idea.” I was tempted to reveal my new plan to her, but wanted to surprise her when she came back to Moustiers next weekend.
“What I want even more, however,” I said, pulling her back up my body, already hard and aching. She draped her leg over my hip and moaned as I slid inside her. “Is to make up for lost time.”