The Unfortunate Side Effects of Heartbreak and Magic(59)

When the last of the rush was gone, she allowed herself to think of Jake. She felt a little guilty for running off when he’d needed to talk the night before, even if she didn’t want to hear what he had to say. So she wrapped a large slice of the babka for him, her stomach braiding itself into knots just like the bread as she thought about driving to Rock Creek House for the first time in over ten years. It was a testament to her desire to do the right thing that she would go so far out of her comfort zone. But right was right, and Gigi had taught her long ago that when you knew what you had to do, it was best to just get on with it. Maybe the walnuts with their symbol of clarity and gathering energy for new beginnings would be just the thing he needed.

Or maybe it’s something you need, a little voice in her head whispered. She ignored it.

Jake was sitting on a ratty, old rocking chair on the well-worn and sadly unkempt front porch, with a beer in his hand. He jumped up when he saw Sadie’s car pull up.

“Everything okay?” he asked before she was fully out of the car. “Gigi Marie?”

“She’s good.” Her smile widened. “Really good, actually.”

She looked up at the house. Its peeling paint. The roof that needed repairing. If the outside looked this bad, she could only imagine what the inside looked like. She thought about projects. About walking the aisles of the hardware store with Jake, picking out paint samples and drawer pulls.

“It’s a piece,” he said, watching her watch the house.

“Why’d you buy it?”

“What are you doing here, Sade?”

“That’s supposed to be my question,” she shot back, noting the way he dodged her question, but not interested in pursuing it yet. “I brought babka,” she added, holding up the slice that was basically half the loaf, before walking up and setting it on the railing.

“My hero,” he said, looking down at her.

Focus, she reprimanded herself.

Instead, she took a step closer.

Gigi was getting better. She and Seth were healing. She was beating death itself; curses could be broken. Maybe, just maybe … there was room for Jake in her heart.

He didn’t move, but there was a war playing on his face.

“Sadie,” he said, his voice tight.

“I have questions,” she whispered. “But I don’t want to ask them yet. Just stand here with me.”

And then, because it seemed he couldn’t help himself, his hands found themselves on her waist, pulling her closer until she could feel his heart beating against her chest. He held her tight, and she remembered a hot summer day. The ground had burned her bare feet, but she didn’t care as he hugged her and didn’t let go. Though she hadn’t known it at the time, it was the day before he’d left for good. And this moment, with his arms around her again, felt like another kind of goodbye.

His breath tickled her ear when he spoke and sent a shiver down her arms. She leaned into him, every curve pressing against him and lighting her on fire.

“You terrify me,” he whispered. “You’re always the one who’s challenged me.” One hand tightened on her waist while the other slid to her back. His stubble bristled deliciously against her jawline. She wanted to turn her head. Make his lips meet hers.

“You have no idea how bad I want this,” he murmured, his fingers curling into her skin, drawing her closer.

Her stomach dipped, and warmth spread from her center up to her chest.

“I have some idea,” she whispered back, her own hands trailing down his arms and then back up. She tilted her head to look at him, and he cradled her face in his hands, like she was something precious. His thumb brushed across her lower lip. Without thinking, she captured it with her teeth, biting gently and running her tongue across it.

A small, tortured groan escaped him.

“I want to live up to your expectations,” he breathed heavily, “and that means I have to be honorable.” He started to pull away.

“Screw honorable,” she said, her heart beating rapidly as her hands pushed under his shirt, his velvet skin warm against hers—and she wanted him now. Needed him. To move against him. To feel his calloused palms scraping against the sensitive skin of her stomach, her inner thighs. She arched against him, closing her eyes.

“Damn it, Sadie,” he ground out, his voice low and rough. “You’re making this impossible. I need to tell you something,” he murmured against her hair before pulling back and looking into her eyes. His hands were warm on her shoulders. Like he was steadying himself.

“What?” Her breath was ragged, and she couldn’t look away from his lips.

“I’m engaged.”

Her eyes snapped to his, all threads of desire doused in disbelief.

Impossible.

The heat in her stomach hardened into ice.

Whatever she’d been expecting, it hadn’t been this.

“To be married?”

“What other kind of engaged is there?”

This wasn’t happening. Not again. She pushed him, hard, his hands falling from her shoulders.

“I tried to tell you,” he said, his voice a shade of agony.

“Tried? You tried? It’s pretty simple, Jake,” she spat. “Two words. Two words that could have been said at any time!” But even as she said it, she remembered all the times he’d said he’d needed to tell her something. And every time she’d pushed it away. Because she’d known it was something she didn’t want to hear. And like a child covering their ears, she’d refused to listen.