Chapter 46
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
POLLY
“It was books that made me feel that perhaps I was not completely alone. They could be honest with me, and I with them. Reading your words, what you wrote, how you were lonely sometimes and afraid, but always brave; the way you saw the world, its colors and textures and sounds, I felt--I felt the way you thought, hoped, felt, dreamt. I felt I was dreaming and thinking and feeling with you. I dreamed what you dreamed, wanted what you wanted--and then I realized that truly I just wanted you.”
Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince
“A nd?” Jace asked me, raising his eyebrows as I bit into my piece of toast.
“Not too bad. Only slightly burnt. It’s edible, definitely edible.”
“Damn it. I knew I should have gone with the classic PB and J.”
“It’s perfect.” I squeezed Jace’s hand, glancing at the votive candles, the marigolds scattered along the table, and the small Reserved card. “And the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me at 3:25 p.m. on a Friday afternoon.”
Jace smiled and held up his mug, which was filled with hot cocoa with whipped cream and chocolate sauce. ‘Fancy’ hot chocolate, toast, and eggs were the only things he could make, I’d been informed.
“I gotta work with the time we got.” Jace looked at his watch. “We only have three hours before we pick up the kids.”
I placed my hand on Jace’s knee and proceeded to slide it up his thigh slowly. “Then we better make the most of the time we have.” I darted my eyes to his mug. “You have any chocolate sauce left?”
I’ve never seen someone spring up from a chair as fast as Jace did in that moment. “Let me check the fridge real quick once,” he called out on his way through the door.
Chuckling, I took a sip of my hot chocolate, even though it was ninety degrees outside. I felt energized since my encounter with Brad Goldendick this morning. What better way to spend that energy than with my twenty-four-year-old boyfriend?
The music on Jace’s tablet stopped playing so I grabbed it, then swiped to open his music app. I was just about to press the Play button at the bottom, when my eyes snagged on a familiar picture.
It was an icon of the cover for American Cream. Clicking the icon, I saw that the audiobook had been downloaded and there was four hours and thirty-seven minutes left to listen.
I immediately checked the account information to confirm that yes, this was Jace’s tablet. Was some strange home-sharing thing happening here? Was his music app picking up my audiobook library titles? Completely confused, I clicked on the audiobook tab in the app and gasped.
Every audiobook I’d listened to since the beginning of summer was listed. A sinking feeling settled in my gut as I tried to think of an explanation. This was either the world’s biggest coincidence and Jace happened to be a closet fan of romance novels . . . or, what, he was looking at my e-reader and then downloading them on his own tablet?
At the thought, I realized that must be exactly what he had done. I clapped a hand over my mouth as anger and shock ran through my body. I kept my computer and phone with me all day, but my e-reader stayed on my bedside table.
Jace sauntered through the patio doors just then, holding up the chocolate sauce. He stilled immediately as he took in my thunderous expression. Jace’s gaze flicked between me and the tablet I held in my hands. “What’s going on?”
I couldn’t put together coherent thoughts, so I did the next best thing.
I pressed play.
“Goosebumps broke out across the skin where I pressed my finger into each dip of the contoured muscles of his abdomen, barely able to keep a breathy moan from escaping my lips.”
Eyes flying wide, Jace dashed toward me, but I sprang out of the chair and held the tablet behind me. It continued to play aloud, my glare communicating a thousand words.
“I was here on assignment, and he was a possible thief, fifteen years my junior.”
“It’s not what you think, Polly,” Jace pleaded, holding up his hands, like he was trying to tame a wild animal. I scoffed inwardly. I didn’t need taming. I needed answers.
Raising my eyebrows almost like a taunt, I held the tablet up higher, letting the words ring out.
“But oh my fucking delight, I wanted to trail my tongue up and down his chest like it was my own life-sized, personal popsicle.”
Finally having had enough, I paused it, blanketing us in silence. Then with restraint worthy of a gold medal, I placed the tablet back on the table instead of hurling it directly into the pool.
We stared at each other. The only sounds were the blood rushing in my ears and Jace’s heavy panting as he looked at me, panic-stricken.
“How long?” My eyes were hard, but my voice was soft, raw.
“Polly—” Jace started.
“How long?” I barked.
A sorrowful look passed over him, but I didn’t give a damn.
“Since the first day I valeted for you. I turned on your car radio and it came on.”
Heat crawled up my neck. I tried to remember what I was listening to the first Sunday we met, but I couldn’t remember. Not that it would matter anyway. No wonder he was so curious about me, giving me those flirty looks.
A blistering wave of mortification swept through me. “Is that why you took the job here?”
“What? No?—”
“Because you thought I was some sad, lonely mom, ripe for the picking?”
“No! That’s not it at all if you’d let me explain—” Jace took a step toward me, and I instantly took a step back, which halted his forward progress.
“Explain that you’ve been invading my privacy by going through my books? What do you do, sneak into my room and look at my e-reader while I’m at work?”
Renewed humiliation filled me at the thought of him opening up my e-reader, looking and laughing at all of the titles and the covers. I suddenly felt exposed despite being fully clothed, wishing I had a coat to cover up with. “So last weekend, you already knew what I was listening to when you asked me about it, didn’t you?”
Jace’s eyes looked panicked, a pleading note entering his tone. “It’s not what you think, it only made me want to know you more?—”
“Yeah, I’m sure it did. What a good laugh you and your buddy Sam must have had after you told him how easy it was to bag the pathetic, single mother.”
Jace immediately started shaking his head. “I never thought that. You don’t understand?—”
“Stop telling me what I do or do not understand!” I cried, my upper lip wobbling. “You took advantage of me. Of my privacy. I trusted you. You took this beautiful thing I thought we had, something special and real, and turned it into a lie.” My voice was breaking, but I held my tears in. I didn’t want to let him see me cry. He’d seen enough of me.
“Polly,” Jace croaked.
“I’m going to my room. Don’t follow me.”
* * *
“And then what happened?”
Five pairs of eyes were watching me from my phone’s screen. Once I’d gotten to my room and finished crying, I’d texted Leah.
She, of course, video called me and added Rose, who then added Margo, Tiffany, and Eliza.
“Then he told me he’d been listening to my audiobooks since he valeted for me that first week, which was in the beginning of June! He said it only made him want to know more. I mean, how mortifying! Here I thought we were actually together, for real, and it turns out he thought of me as nothing more than an easy lay."
They’d actually taken the news of my cougar status quite well.
Leah frowned as I spoke. “I don’t think that’s necessarily what Jace meant by that.”
Rose was nodding encouragingly. “Leah’s right, sugar. I don’t want to sound indelicate here, but if Jace was lookin’ for easy, he wouldn’t have to look that hard. Single gals at the school flock to him.”
And damn it all to hell if the green-eyed bitch herself didn’t peek her head out of the depths of my soul right then and look around. Didn’t she know which side she was supposed to be on? Ahem, we’re mad at Jace! Not jealous of the other single woman!
“And it’s true I haven’t seen him around you,” Rose added, “but most men, in general, wouldn’t go through all that fuss, nannying two kids, just to get laid.”
Despite the sea of anger in my body, her words resonated. My kids were hard nuts to crack. And I’d put up dozens of barriers. It’s not like he gave me one wink and I dropped my pants, so to speak.
“Can I ask a question?” Margo interjected. “What’s your real problem here? I mean, of course, besides the trust issues, which I’m not ignoring in any way. But like, so what? He’s listening to the same books you read. It’s not like he’s stealing from you or publicizing your reading history online.”
Margo had a point. Yes, he had invaded my privacy, but I trusted that he wasn’t doing anything malicious with it.
“Have you had a guy steal from you?” I peripherally heard one of the women ask Margo, then more murmuring back and forth as I became more internally preoccupied.
I did trust Jace. I was mad about what he did, sure, but it’s mostly because of my fear of Judgment, not the invasion of privacy. Just then, I heard a low knock. Tensing, I watched as a small piece of paper slid under my bedroom door.
Getting up while keeping the phone in my hand, I read the slip of paper: Look outside your door.
“What’s happening?” I heard Leah ask.
“I just got a note that said to look outside my door.” I put my ear against the door, hearing nothing.
Nervous anticipating roiled in my gut, unsure what I should do. I glanced down at my phone and gave a wan smile. “Thank you all, truly, but I think I’m going to hang up.” I moved to end the call when a chorus erupted:
“No!”
“Wait!”
“I want to know what happens!”
I hesitated, looking at Leah and her friends, no wait, that’s not right, looking at my friends. My friends who didn’t judge me when I told them I read romance. My friends who didn’t judge me when I told them I was in a relationship with a twenty-four-year-old guy. My friends who dropped what they were doing on a Friday afternoon to talk to me about a fight I’d had with my boyfriend.
I quickly glanced at the door, wondering if Jace was right outside, and quieted my voice. “Ok, but I reserve the right to hang up on your faces depending on what I find.”
Taking a deep breath in and out, I opened the door to find an empty hallway. Peeking around the corner, I saw the stairs were also empty. Inexplicable disappointment filled me. I looked down then, only to discover a pile of books at my feet.
Squatting to take a closer look, I gasped and covered my mouth.
It was many of the books I’d read over the past six weeks; bits of scratch paper were sticking out randomly within some of the book’s pages. At the bottom of the pile was an envelope with my name written in capital letters.
“What is it?” Leah whispered.
“I’m not sure yet, hold on.”
I quickly maneuvered picking up the stack of books without dropping my phone, closing the door, then placing everything on my bed. With a trembling hand, I pulled two notes out of the envelope.
Polly,
“Read it out loud!”
I cleared my throat, reading aloud this time.
Polly,
I know you probably don’t want to hear from me yet. I only have two things to say.
First, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have broken your trust. You are this gift that came into my life when I wasn’t expecting it, not knowing you’d be exactly what I needed. If you give me another chance, I promise I’ll be more careful with your heart.
Second, how would you like the kids to be picked up? I’m happy to pick them up and bring them back here. I enclosed a reply note for your convenience.
Love, Jace
I pulled out the second note as I listened to the suddenly very loud women on the other side of my phone screen.
“He’s a keeper!”
“I’ve never gotten a note like that.”
“Marry him and have his babies!”
I read the second note to myself, sniffling and laughing by the time I finished.
“What’s so funny?”
“Show us!”
Unable to suppress my goofy smile, I turned the note over to show them.
Jace picks up the kids and brings me a donut
Jace picks up the kids and brings me a donut and an iced coffee
Jace picks up the kids and promises to be my sex unicorn for all eternity
“That’s an easy choice, gotta go with number three,” Tiffany chimed in. I laughed, warning them that I was putting the phone down as the women continued to chatter amongst themselves.
Reverently, I picked up the first book off the pile, Barbarian Lover by Ruby Dixon. Ignoring my throb of embarrassment, I flipped the book open to the first marked page. Jace marked one of the passages with a note, saying Never give a girl a wooden mold of your junk.
I burst out laughing, which prompted more chatter from the phone beside me. But I wasn’t listening, I was too focused on the second book in the pile, one that was particularly steamy. But Jace’s notes weren’t lewd, nor were they mocking or thoughtless. Instead, Jace wrote a note during a sex scene that said, Try this with Polly, causing a flush of heat in my cheeks.
I kept moving through the books, giggling at Jace’s notes which were funny and genuine. Just like Jace, himself. At the bottom of the pile was a book I’d read just before Jace started here. A novella that I’d binged until two in the morning. It was about how a smart, young woman, who was also a closet ninja, met her very sarcastic, and very British future husband in college. A few lines of text were marked.
“Because if it’s possible to have a partner who gives all of themselves without reservation, who looks forward to working and sacrificing for me just as I look forward to doing the same for her, who can’t help but love ferociously, brutally, and unconditionally—and even perhaps without reason or sound judgment—that’s what I want. Because that’s how I plan to love in return.”
The words were swimming in front of me by the time I was done reading. The line of text was heartfelt and beautiful, yes, but that’s not what brought tears to my eyes. It was the word written next to it.
Yes
I was wiping my cheeks as I finally brought the phone back up to my face to find five women, noses practically pressed to their screens. Quickly, I went through the last book and quote, along with Jace’s note.
“I take it you’ve forgiven him?” Leah’s question had a smile in it as I shrugged, a sob escaping my lips.
“You fight for this one, Polly,” Leah continued. “I don’t care how old he is, or if your father doesn’t like him, or if he’s horrible in bed.” She gave me a knowing wink. “But this is why I read romance. I want to read about how a man loves their woman.” She paused. “Or man.”
“Or how a woman loves their woman!” Margo piped up and Rose nodded in agreement.
“Don’t leave out the why-choose tropes!” Tiffany added as Eliza chimed in, “Or the sunscreen and monster tropes!”
Leah raised her eyebrows at me. “See? It’s a person’s devotion to their partner, their unconditional love, their imperfectly perfect words. Morally gray, reverse harem, closed-door, it doesn’t matter. When one person puts another’s needs first and shows us what true partnership is, isn’t that what we all want?”