I Only Have Eyes for You (The Sullivans #4)(40)

9:00 p.m.

Seriously? He couldn’t even get here on time to cart her away like a barbarian to his house? That was how little she meant to him? Did anything hurt more than being forgotten? All her life she’d been invisible. Not just to Jake, but to everyone else. How could a bookworm like her even begin to compete with her larger-than-life siblings? She’d never be a movie star, would never throw the winning pitch in the World Series, would never be the sparkling, stunning Sullivan twin.

Once he finally deigned to show up at her door, she swore that nothing was going to stop her from giving him a piece of her mind about what he could do with his six remaining days.

Okay, so maybe she was careening from one extreme to the other like a madwoman, but he could at least give her the respect of showing up less than an hour late to ruin her life.

10:00 p.m.

Sophie’s righteous anger grew bigger, stronger with every passing minute until her cuckoo clock chimed 10:00 p.m. That was when it finally hit her—something had to be wrong. Jake had been too intent on controlling her life this morning to give up just a few hours later. Especially since he wasn’t a man who ever gave up.

What if he’d been hurt? What if he needed her help and she’d been wasting precious time in her apartment thinking horrible things about him?

No one would know to call her if something happened to Jake. No one would know he was important to her, that she was pregnant with his children.

She didn’t own a car since it was easy enough to rent one from the car share company when she needed one. But they were all out of vehicles for the night and since Sophie didn’t know the bus schedule very well in the evening, it took her far longer than she wanted to get to his house. When all the lights were off and he didn't answer the door, she called the pub. The bartender told her Jake was there, but was in the middle of dealing with an emergency and couldn’t get to the phone.

Twenty-five minutes and two bus changes later, she practically ran inside McCann's, pushing through a crowd of college kids and not caring that they clearly thought she’d lost her mind.

“Where is Jake?” She nearly grabbed the bartender’s shirt to get his attention.

The scruffy man gave her the same look the college kids had. Like she should be on her living room clock with the rest of the cuckoo birds.

“He’s in the back.”

The last thing she expected was to see Jake in his office handing a tissue to a young woman with pink and blue hair. The girl blew her nose loudly just as Sophie saw that there were two other people in the room. The couple was older than Jake. Old enough, she realized, to be the girl’s parents.

She skidded to a stop, but not fast enough for Jake not to see her.

“Sophie!” He said something to the couple, then got up and headed for her. He brushed his fingertips against her skin as he slid a lock of hair back from her face. “It’s late. You know what the doctor said about rest. You should be sleeping.”

“I couldn’t sleep. I was worried when you didn’t show up.” She gave him a little half-smile. “And I was mad at you for standing me up,” she admitted. This time she was the one reaching for his face. How many times had she wanted to touch him like this over the years? Warmth flooded her as she realized she could do it now. “Now that I know you weren’t, tell me what I can do to help while you—” She looked over his shoulder at the group gathered in his office. “—deal with things.”

“All I want is for you to get some rest.” She was about to tell him she wasn’t tired, that his day had to be a hundred times more difficult than hers, when he frowned at her. “How did you get here?”

“The bus.” She didn’t think it would be wise to mention the few dark blocks between the final bus stop and his pub.

He swore. “You should have stayed home.”

Didn’t he see? “I needed to make sure you were okay.”

Jake still looked upset about her late-night jaunt through San Francisco’s public transportation system, but rather than continue to rail at her, he threaded his fingers into her hair and tugged her closer so that her head was tucked in beneath his chin. “God, you’re sweet.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Just then, the bartender burst through the door. “Customers are about to riot out here if they don’t get some service soon. Betty is already way past what she can handle.”

Sophie plopped her hand over Jake’s mouth before he could reply. “I’ve got this.” She didn’t wait for Jake to agree before she grabbed a black apron from a peg on the wall and wrapped it around her waist. “Do you have a pad and pencil?” she asked the bartender.

He gladly shoved one into her hands and thirty seconds later, she was in the middle of a steep learning curve on how to be a good waitress in an Irish pub as customers all but growled their orders at her and demanded endless refills.

Sophie had never been a part of something so noisy, so full of constant motion. No, she realized as she loaded a tray with frothy beers, that wasn’t true. Growing up the youngest of eight had been just as noisy, just as full of motion.

No wonder she found herself loving every single second of it.

* * *

By the time Jake got a chance to pull Sophie from the pub floor, it was nearly 2:00 a.m. and they were on the verge of shutting down for the night. His bartender had popped his head in a at one point to say, “You should hire that girl full time,” but Jake had still been focused on trying to get his young employee to agree to see a counselor. A full-on treatment program would be better, but he had enough experience with alcoholics to know that pushing them in the right direction usually made them do the exact opposite.