Driftwood Lane (Nantucket #4)(69)

Jake’s lips parted. A second later they pressed together. He walked to the end of the porch and back. He reminded her of a caged tiger, constricted by the boundary of the porch.

She hadn’t expected him to be so upset. When he passed, she set her hand on his bare arm, stopping him. The muscles flexed beneath her palm. He was so strong. She had the sudden image of him hitting Sean, using those muscles to protect her.

She pulled her hand away as if his skin burned her. “They’ve had enough loss. They’ve already become attached to you, and that’s only going to hurt them more when we leave.”

His face softened as he stared, his lips slackening, his eyes growing tender. His face had already darkened under the sun. Faint lines fanned the corner of his eyes.

He reached toward her and ran his finger down the side of her face. “Don’t leave.”

His touch left a trail of fire. She pressed her spine to the column. How could she want to dive into his arms and run away at the same time?

Inside a riot kicked up. She was back in the apartment on Warren Street, coming home from school, slipping in the door, unsure if she’d find her mom racing around the kitchen, slumped on the bathroom tile, or just gone.

The same uncertainty roiled in her now. “I have to.”

“This is their home. Your engagement is over,” he said gently. “Is what you’re going back to as important as what you’re leaving?”

He didn’t have to say he meant them. Us. She shook her head, dislodging his hand. How had he turned this all around?

She slid past him, needing distance to breathe, to think. She thought of explaining her reasons, but the financial barriers now paled in comparison to the other one. She crossed her arms, a pathetic barrier between him and her heart.

“When you’re finished with the repairs, you’ll be leaving. Once that happens, I will sell Summer Place and we will move to St. Louis. And until then, I need you to keep your distance from the children. For their sakes.”

Jake ran his hand through his hair, leaving it tousled.

Meridith had the sudden urge to smooth it down. His hair would be soft and thick between her fingers. She knotted her hands in fists before she was foolish enough to surrender to the impulse.

Jake’s hand lowered to his neck and stayed there.

“Jake . . . ?”

He turned and set his palms on the railing, leaning toward the ocean. The wind ruffled his hair. “All right, Meridith,” he said, finally.

The screen door clicked in place behind her. Jake wanted to punch something, but he forced himself to close his eyes and inhale the brine-scented air instead.

It seemed as if, piece by piece, the kids were being taken from him. First, Meridith was awarded guardianship. Now he wasn’t allowed to interact with them. And in a few short weeks, they’d be taken across the country to St. Louis. Might as well be half a world away.

To make matters worse, he couldn’t argue with what she said. If he’d wanted to be certain Meridith had the kids’ best interest at heart, he had plenty of evidence. Given what she knew—or rather, didn’t know—she was doing the right thing, protecting them from more hurt. But he didn’t have to like the repercussions.

As bothered as he was by all that, it wasn’t the only part of the conversation that made him feel like exploding.

All this time he’d thought it was her feelings for Stephen that kept Meridith at arm’s length. But Stephen was gone, and still she held back. He’d seen the look in her eyes. She’d been putty in his hands when he’d touched her.

And then a wall had come up, shutting him out. What gave? And equally as baffling, how had Meridith, in two and a half months, gone from adversary to keeper of his heart?





Thirty-six

Meridith gathered the album decorations and returned them to the bag, then stowed Ben’s album in the closet with the two completed albums.

After closing her closet door, she removed her socks and changed into her long nightshirt. Outside rain pattered the window and the wind stirred the chimes on the front porch.

Meridith brushed and flossed, then propped her foot on the sink ledge and smoothed on her favorite lotion. The past few days had been awkward between her and Jake. Being near him always put her on edge, but now that he’d made his interest clear, it was worse. Because she had feelings, too, and hiding them was hard.

Avoidance had become her MO, but it wasn’t easy when he lived under the same roof. Not much longer. She could do anything for three weeks, right?

The lights flickered, then went out, leaving her in total darkness. The heat kicked off, and the only remaining sound was the rain tap dancing on the roof.

Meridith rubbed the lotion into her hands, then opened the door. Her room was a black abyss. No matter how wide she opened her eyes, there was not even a vague hint of a shadow, and the only flashlights were downstairs in the laundry room cabinet.

She felt her way across her room and looked out the window. It was like looking at a sheet of black construction paper. Maybe the whole neighborhood was out, but it was hard to tell since it was late and people were likely in bed.

She looked farther down Driftwood Lane and caught a distant porch light. The rain kicked up a notch, pummeled the window. It wasn’t storming, so she couldn’t imagine lightning had kicked off their electric.

What if something was wrong with the circuitry? At least they had no guests at the moment. Listening to the heavy downpour, she thought of the sump pump in the basement. If it continued to rain all night without the pump, she might awaken to a flooded basement.