Chapter 14
fourteen
PATRICK
She thinks Carrie and I are together.
How she’s come to that conclusion, I don’t know, but I feel like a fucking fool for not putting it together sooner. When I felt her anger around Carrie getting pregnant, I got it. But has she really spent all this time thinking we were a couple?
Clearly , we both did a good job of avoiding news about the other. And I don’t blame her. After the trip to Tennessee blew up in my face, I made it clear to everyone I wasn’t interested in any updates about Jo . Just so long as she was safe and well.
It hits me then how wrong we’ve been. My grief and whatever was going on with Jo clouded our judgment. I’ve seen the way she blanches whenever Carrie is mentioned. Could it have been jealousy? Some deep, primal part of me wants that to be true. Because how can she sit there and say it’s okay I’ve moved on? It’s anything but okay, and far from the truth. If the last few weeks have taught me anything, I was never over Johanna Thomas , time and distance be damned.
And I haven’t the first fucking clue what I’m supposed to do with that revelation, so I bury it where it belongs.
“ Jo . I think you’ve misread the situation. Carrie and I , we aren’t together. We never have been, well once, umm…” We both know I don’t need to finish that sentence.
“ You’re not…together?” she asks, her eyes widening ever so slightly.
I shake my head slowly.
“ Oh .”
What does oh mean?
“ We have a good thing going; she’s a good friend and a great mom. She lives in Jacob’s Bluff , but we make it work. Trust me when I say nothing has ever been romantic between us.”
“ Oh .”
I really wish she’d stop saying that word and tell me what she’s actually thinking.
“ I just wanted to set the record straight, so yeah.” I raise my thumbs and point at myself awkwardly. “ Single dad.”
Her lips quirk, but there’s still a stiffness in the air. “ Okay then. How about that heat?”
“ Oh shit, sorry.” Hand still on the key, I finally turn it, only to be met with the screeching chorus of Lottie’s playlist. I curse and fumble to reach the dial to turn off my daughter’s most recent musical obsession—a song about unicorns and glittery poop. We wince and reach for the volume dial. Jo reaches it first, and the rational part of my brain knows I can pull away in time, but I don’t, and my hand engulfs hers.
She doesn’t move her hand back like I expect her to, and I slowly turn my hand—and hers—until the cab is bathed in silence. We’re impossibly still, and the feel of her hand in mine awakens something in me.
As if it has a mind of its own, my thumb starts tracing small circles on the inside of her wrist. Her breath hitches, but she still doesn’t move as we watch our intertwined hands, the feel and softness of her skin like a comfort I didn’t know I missed. I don’t question whether she’s as affected as me, because when my thumb finds her pulse, it’s wild like mine .
When I slowly circle that spot, she whips her hand away and severs our connection.
Fuck . What am I doing?
She tugs at the sleeves of her coat, like she’s trying to hide any traces of where our skin met. I clear my throat, willing my dumb heart to chill out. My head is all over the place, because not fifteen minutes ago we were laying it all out, right in the middle of the parking lot.
“ Let me drive you home.” I put the car in reverse, placing my hand on the back of her headrest, and check it’s safe to pull out. These last few minutes have clearly gone to my head, because I’m dizzy for her. Drunk on her. It would be so easy for me to slide my hand behind her head and run it through that honey-golden hair.
An image of my hands in her hair for a totally different reason flashes in my head, and I have to shift in my seat as my cock thickens at the filthy thoughts. Her on her knees. Eyes watering. Pouty mouth open and swollen. Swallowing me down.
Yeah , that doesn’t help. My dick strains against the zipper of my jeans, and I hope the darkened cab hides the effect she’s having on me without even trying. Jesus , it’s been a long time.
“ How’s living above the bakery?” I genuinely do care, but I’ll talk about anything at this rate, just to stop my mind from wandering into the gutter.
“ Unlimited coffee and pastries? I’m living the dream.”
“ It’s a nice spot. Great grilled cheeses,” I say and throw her a wink. Suddenly , the cab is filled with the sweetest sound. A sound I haven’t heard in so long. Her laugh. And god, have I missed it.
“ Coffee and cheese. I’m so basic.”
I shake my head and laugh as she singsongs the last part in that over-the-top British accent; something she’s done since we were younger, and it’s comforting to know she hasn’t lost that little quirk.
“ You could never be basic.”
At this rate, it’s futile trying to filter anything that comes out of my mouth when she’s around.
“ I’ve been meaning to ask if I could sign the restaurant up for the Easter fair in April ? It might be good to showcase some of our staple dishes, but also give Booth the chance to show off his talents. It’s a great way to give back to the community too.”
“ That’s a…really good idea.” I laugh, even though I’m annoyed at myself for not thinking of it first. “ I’ll see if Graham knows anything about the permits we’ll need and how to apply for a table.”
“ How is Graham ? Tonight was the first time I’ve seen him.”
“ Same old. Always scowling, but still no bite.”
“ Are he and Jenna still together?”
I hiss through my teeth. “ Tough subject. It ended about a year ago. And not well either, but Mom doesn’t know that, so keep that to yourself.”
“ Permission to speak honestly?”
“ Go ahead.”
I catch her glancing around the cab, like Jenna is hiding in the backseat waiting for her. “ Ialwaysthoughtshewasabitchface.” I almost don’t catch her words, but when I brake at a stop sign, I turn to see her biting her lip.
“ Johanna May Thomas . The mouth on you.” Her shoulders slump like she’s been carrying that weight around for years. “ You’re not alone there. It just took us a few years to figure that out.”
She hums in what I think is agreement but then a gasp has my eyes darting to her shocked face. “ First the truck, and now I see you have the same old, ratty wallet?”
She reaches to where I haphazardly threw my wallet between us. Panic has me intercepting her, and I snatch it up before she can grab it. And see what’s inside.
“ Oh . Sorry , that was rude of me,” she says, hands recoiling back to her lap, and I hate the shocked confusion on her face.
“ No , no. It’s just old and falling apart. I need a new one.” I hope she accepts the little white lie as I tuck it away safely in the glove compartment. I’ve already confessed my past feelings to her tonight, no need to add to the list of things I’d rather she didn’t know about.
The rest of the drive is filled with silence, nothing like the days spent riding around in this truck as teenagers, goofing around or riding along the coast. Everything between us was always easygoing and honest. Well , apart from the long-standing crush I had on her, but that never disrupted the good thing we had going on. We’ve sure as heck been honest tonight, but the easy part is still missing.
When we approach the block where her apartment is, disappointment floods my veins. What excuses can I make so she has to stay a little while longer? Left my coat at the bar? Nope , wearing it. Maybe I could fake a flat? Also dumb, as I can see her apartment from here.
“ This is me,” she calls out as I pass her building. Is this classed as kidnapping?
“ Oh yeah.” Pulling up a little down from the bakery, I park the truck.
“ Thanks for the ride.” She goes to unbuckle herself but struggles with the seat belt that I now remember is busted.
“ Ah , fuck, I should have warned you. That one’s broken. It’s usually only Lottie with me, and I’ll drive my other truck then so she can sit in the back,” I explain as I lean over to help her, secretly giddy that she has to stay a while longer.
My hand slides along the strap across her chest right when she yanks at it, pulling it taut. Taking me with it. Anddd now I’m touching her tit .
Her mouth drops open, and I try my best to pretend like I’m not feeling her up.
“ Umm , sorry. Just a second,” I stammer out and slip my hand out from where it was snug against her. It takes a few sharp tugs, but neither of us attempts to move once she’s free.
“ I thought I’d have to take you home with me tonight,” I joke, but when I hear it out loud, I know how it sounds.
I don’t miss the blush on her cheeks as she laughs nervously. A small smile on her lips, but once again, not the one I want to see. What will it take to see that smile again?
How can I bring it back? I want to ask.
“ It’s your day off tomorrow?” I ask instead, and she nods in response. “ What do you have planned?”
“ I’m up early for a hike with Quinn in Acadia . I’m going to take her to the lookout.” The corners of her lips pull down at that. I know what caused it, and what the lookout means to her.
“ That’ll be nice. Tomorrow is supposed to be a good day for it too.”
She nods slowly and reaches for the door handle. “ Well , thanks. I’ll see you next week?”
“ Yeah . I’ll be around.”
“ Goodnight , Patrick .” She steps onto the sidewalk and gives me a timid smile as she shuts the door behind her.
I shouldn’t want to haul her back into my truck when she climbs out. I shouldn’t have a list a mile long of ways I can get that bright smile to light her face again.
But I do.
As I wait to pull away until she goes inside and the upstairs lights turn on, I realize no one knows that we left. I drop a text in the group chat I have with my brothers.
Patrick: Sorry to bail. Jo and I got talking. We left about twenty minutes ago.
Booth: YOU LEFT TOGETHER?!
Graham: Rude.
Patrick: Not like that. I drove her home.
Booth: And?
Booth: I see you’ve read the message.
Booth: Don’t ignore us.
Graham: Booth is getting upset. Can you please answer him.
Ignoring them, I make the short drive home, recalling what it felt like to have my hands on her again. How the touch of her skin still has mine tingling. How the subtle scent of jasmine and ocean still lingers. But I also remember how badly it hurt to lose her.
If we have any chance at making this work as friends, those feelings that have been sitting dormant for years need to stay asleep.