Something Precious (Miami Stories Book 3) Read online

  Preston was fifteen minutes early.

  It didn't surprise me, but at the same time, I felt rushed as it was. My hair was still in a towel, and I decided to leave it that way when I answered the door just to drive home the point about how early he was.

  I figured I'd let him in, and tell him he could chill in the living room while I finished getting ready. I had made it almost all the way to the door when I realized it wasn't Preston who was standing on the other side of it.

  It was Jake.

  Instantly, I regretted leaving the towel on my head. I got nervous and started to take it down, but he had already seen me through the window. I would really have to run my hands through it to make it lie straight, and I just couldn't do all that with him looking right at me.

  I had to just pretend I was okay with my choice to leave the towel on my head.

  "Hey, K.K." he said as I opened the door.

  "Hey, Jakey-baby, what's up?" It was a nickname I called him when I felt extra playful. It probably came out as an attempt to distract him from the towel.

  I wished I wasn't so attracted to this man.

  "Can I come in?" he asked.

  "Of course," I said, stepping back so he could step inside. I could smell him, and I tried my best to ignore it. "I'm getting dressed," I said. "And I'm out of here in a few minutes, but you're always welco—"

  I stopped talking in mid-sentence, because instead of walking past me like I thought he would do, Jake stopped in front of me, staring straight at me with a serious expression.

  "Is everything okay?" I asked, fearing the worst and shifting to stare past him toward Bill and Jana's.

  "Nothing's wrong," he said. "Everything's fine."

  "Okay," I said with a little sigh. "You scared me. You were looking so serious."

  "I was looking at your face," he said.

  I let a little laugh as I closed the door behind him. I assumed he was staring at my face because of how funny I looked with a towel on my head, so without thinking, I pulled my hair out of the towel. I tilted to the side, running a hand through it as it covered one shoulder.

  I still had the towel in my hand when Jake took me into his arms. He just reached out and wrapped those big arms around me, squeezing me so tightly that he lifted me from the floor.

  I let out a little squeal. "Jake, what…"

  He set me to my feet again, but he didn't let me go. My heart was racing. Jake's face was right by my neck, and he took a deep breath through his nose as if breathing in my smell.

  "You smell like fruit," he said.

  "Well, you can count your blessings that I just got out of the shower," I said, laughing a little as I pulled back. "Because about five minutes ago, I smelled pret-ty nas-ty."

  Being silly was my defense mechanism with Jake. Physical contact with him was enough to send my senses into overdrive. My heart hammered in my chest from the slightest contact, so I usually said something silly or self-deprecating to distract him.

  Jake took a step back, regarding me like he wasn't sure what to say next. I didn't know what to say, either. I was still shaken from that hug. He and I hugged all the time—casual friendly hugs to say hello or goodbye.

  This hug seemed different though.

  This whole encounter seemed different.

  He seemed sentimental, almost searching.

  He stared at me with a look on his face that was similar to regret.

  "Are you sure you're okay?"

  "I'm fine," he said. "How are you?"

  "Fiiine," I said, with a somewhat skeptical look.

  "Uncle Bill said you rented some work space downtown."

  "I did," I said, nodding. "That's why I was stinky. I've been over there working all afternoon—painting and cleaning. It was hot. It took a long time for the air conditioner to kick in."

  "Why didn't you ask for help?" he said. "I would have loved to go help you clean it up if you need it."

  "Oh, it's okay," I said. "I'm not worried about getting it all done in one day. I didn't even really know I was gonna be doing that this weekend. It all kinda happened fast. I just heard about it like two days ago, and the next thing I knew, I was signing paperwork and picking up the keys."

  "I'm happy for you," Jake said. "Proud of you."

  He was so very serious and sincere.

  It wasn't that Jake was normally insincere, it's just that he was always so lighthearted and quick witted, and today, he was different—he was looking at me differently—searching.

  I gave him a little skeptical half-smile, staring at him out of the corner of my eyes.

  "I am proud of you, Kristen. I don’t tell you that enough. You're amazing."

  That was enough.

  I stretched up, leaning in to place the back of my hand on Jake's forehead so that I could check his fever.

  "I know something's wrong if you're calling me Kriste—"

  I abruptly stopped speaking when Jake grabbed a hold of my arm. He caught it before the back of my hand even had the chance to make contact with his forehead. He held my forearm in mid-air with gentle but unrelenting pressure.

  His expression was serious but unreadable, and he scanned my face with an intense mix of bewilderment and curiosity. I was close enough to him that I could see and almost feel the rise and fall of his chest. It almost seemed like he was struggling to catch his breath, which took my breath away.

  "You really shouldn't come this close to me," Jake warned.

  I quickly pulled back, my expression changing to one of confusion. "Now you're just being rude."

  "It's not rude. It's just the truth. You really shouldn't put your face next to my face right now."

  I pulled back a little, wearing a wary half-smile. If I didn't know Jake so well, I would think he was dangerous—that was how serious he was.

  "Why, are you sick or something?" I asked, stepping back.

  He let my hand go when I moved. "No, Kristen, I'm not sick," he said.

  "What's your deal, then?"

  "I don't know what my deal is," he admitted, shaking his head. "I really don't know. I wish I did."

  The air around him was charged. I had no idea what he would do or say next. He looked around the guesthouse like he was seeing all of my stuff for the first time.

  I hadn't even seen Preston drive up or walk up, so it seemed out of nowhere when I heard him knock at the door. I was so intent on figuring out what was going on with Jake that I let out a little gasp, feeling startled when I heard the knock.

  "Oh, gosh, he's early," I mumbled apologetically.

  "I didn't know you had plans," Jake said.

  I glanced at him as I started toward the door to answer it. "Baseball game," I said.

  Preston saw me coming to the door, and he opened it himself. He was early, and I was slightly worried about Jake, so it bugged me that he was letting himself in, but I didn't say anything. I painted-on a smile.

  "Hey," I said. "I'm not quite finished getting dressed." I held up the towel as proof.

  "Take your time," Preston said. "I'm a little early."

  "Kristen said you're going to a ball game," Jake said, talking to Preston.

  It wasn't the first time he had called me Kristen today, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with him. I really hated that I didn't have more time to talk.

  "I'll be right back," I said, glancing apologetically at them both. I held up the towel. "I'm gonna just put this up."

  "Kristen showed me a few of those photos she took of you and your girlfriend for the swimsuit catalogue," Preston said. "They came out really good."

  Preston was nice for making small talk with Jake, but I flinched at the mention of Clara. I didn't see why that had to be the first thing he brought up.

  I walked into my bedroom, but the guesthouse wasn't huge, so I could still easily hear them from the next room. I was curious about what they would say to each other now that I had left the room.

  "Kristen did a great job with the pictures,
" Jake said. "But I don't have a girlfriend."

  "Oh, I think Kristen was under the impression that you were dating one of the models."

  "I was," Jake said. "We broke up the day of that shoot, actually."

  "I'm sorry to hear that," Preston said awkwardly.

  A silence followed, and I wondered if Jake was nodding or making some other facial expression in response to Preston's apology.

  I stood there and listened for a few more seconds. My heart was pounding—partially because I was eavesdropping on their conversation, and partially because of the news that Jake and Clara broke up.

  They had broken up before, so I knew better than to get my hopes up, but still… I definitely wasn't sad to hear about it. I found myself standing there with my toes curled and my fists clinched, anxiously waiting to hear what they would say next.

  I knew I needed to go to the bathroom and take a look at myself before we left for the ballpark, but I couldn’t make myself move—I was just too curious about their conversation.

  It was about ten or fifteen seconds later when I finally decided that they might not say anything else. I was just about ready to make my way into the bathroom when Jake came walking into my room.

  He hadn't expected for me to be standing right there on the other side of the door, so he went right past me, walking at a good clip. The quick, unexpected movement startled me, and I almost let out a sound of surprise, but I managed to stifle it. My bathroom door was open, and Jake was headed toward it, but I stepped forward, snapping my fingers to get his attention.

  He turned around, regarding me with an expression that asked what in the world I was doing standing behind the door. I gave him an equally curious look, wondering why he had followed me into my room.

  "I'm gonna go," he whispered, glancing toward the living room as if making sure Preston wasn't listening.

  "Okay," I whispered back.

  "Can you please call me?" he asked.

  "Yeah," I said. "You mean after the game?"

  He nodded.

  He seemed upset.

  "Are you sure you're okay?" I asked.

  "I guess so," he said. "I think so."

  "Do you want to come with us?" I asked, still whispering. "I'm sure we could get an extra ticket and just find a spot with three seats where the crowd isn't so—"

  "I don't want to go with you," Jake said, shaking his head and sounding decisive. "Thanks for the offer and everything, but I don't want to go with you on your date."

  There was enough frustration in his voice that I thought maybe he was feeling hurt about the breakup with Clara or the fact that Preston mentioned it.

  "I heard what you said about you and Clara," I whispered. "I'm sorry."

  "Don't be." Again, he glanced at the door, letting out a sigh. "Just call me when you can, okay?"

  I nodded, but I hated when people acted like they needed to tell you something. I wanted Jake to just say what he needed to say.

  "If you need to tell me something, you can just say it now."

  He shook his head. "No, I can't. I really can't. And I'm not even sure what…" he hesitated, giving me a regretful little half grin before reaching out to touch me. He used the edge of his finger to touch the side of my upper arm. The feel of it caused chills to travel up my spine, and it took all my concentration to keep from shivering. While his hand was there, he took a piece of my hair, rolling it between his fingertips. He stared at his hand as he did it, looking both interested and perplexed.

  "Jake," I whispered, snapping him out of it.

  His eyes met mine.

  "Are you sure you're okay?" I asked.

  "Yeah," he said. "I'm fine. Just call me when you get home from that game."

  Chapter 11

  I had a really hard time getting the encounter with Jake off of my mind during that baseball game. I couldn’t stop thinking about how he was looking at me.

  I began to overanalyze it and fear the worst—like maybe Suzanne had decided she hated the photos and had hired someone else to re-take the project.

  I had to think that if that was the case, she'd tell me herself. Or maybe she wouldn’t.

  Maybe it wasn't about Suzanne at all.

  Maybe Bill and Jana needed me to move out and they gave Jake the job of telling me since they knew we were friends.

  I told myself it was nothing bad, but I remembered the way he had regarded me, and I knew there was an edge of regret in his expression. It was hard work, watching the baseball game and talking to Preston like nothing was wrong while I was completely preoccupied with remembering all the details about the conversation I had with Jake.

  Preston held my hand some of the time, and I let him, but it was awkward, and I just kept wishing the game would end so that I could get home and call Jake.

  Who knew baseball games could last so long?

  It seemed like every time I turned around, they were pausing the game for one reason or another. The catcher would come out to talk to the pitcher, or they would change pitchers.

  At one point, we got out of our seats to get something to eat. We stood in line for what felt like fifteen minutes, and when we sat down again, it was the same inning.

  One time, the umpires even came off the field and put headsets on so they could talk to someone in another town about whether or not the guy was out or safe. That took forever.

  Then, in the middle of the seventh inning, they made us all stand up and stretch. We had to sing Take Me Out to the Ballgame.

  Baseball was not a sport for people who were in a hurry.

  Everyone took their sweet time, switching sides, and singing songs, and doing things that had nothing to do with baseball at all. It was nearly 9pm by the time we made it back to my neighborhood.

  I was chomping at the bit for Preston to leave so that I could contact Jake.

  "Thanks for the game," I said as we pulled into the driveway. "I've got some work to catch up on, so I'm gonna run in, but I really appreciate everything tonight. I had a great time."

  "At least let me walk you in," he said.

  "Oh, no, it's okay. I'm fine. It's late. I'm just gonna run in. Thanks for everything, though—dinner and the tickets and everything."

  I really hated that Preston hadn't let me chip-in on anything, but he never did. Every time he took me somewhere I always offered to pay for myself, and he always refused.

  "I'll come around and let you out of the car," he said, once we came to a stop.

  I knew he was going to kiss me, and I couldn't help but dread it. It was unfair to him that I was not into it and that I was in such a hurry, so I made an effort to smile and be sweet.

  Sure enough, he opened my door, and as I was standing, he smiled at me like he was about to kiss me. I went ahead and did it. I stretched up and placed an extremely quick kiss on his lips, hoping that would be enough.

  "Thanks, Preston. I had fun."

  "Are you okay?" he asked.

  "Oh, yeah, I'm just thinking about other things I have to do once I get inside," I said.

  He sighed. "Okay," he said reluctantly. "I guess maybe I'll talk to you tomorrow, then."

  I gave him a non-committal smile and nod as I waved and walked away.

  I breathed a sigh as I opened the side gate.

  Jake was heavy on my mind, and my patience had worn thin.

  It was a beautiful evening, so it didn’t surprise me to find Bill and Jana sitting outside on the terrace. The strung lights were on, and I smiled at how comfortable and beautiful it was.

  Then, I remembered that one of my theories about Jake's change of demeanor was that they needed me to move out of the guesthouse, and my feeling of nostalgia turned to one of dread and defensiveness. I had been planning on hollering at them when I noticed they were sitting there, but I changed my mind and decided to try to sneak into the guesthouse undetected so that I wouldn't bother them.

  I was almost to my front door when Bill caught sight of me. "Hey Kristen!" he yelled.

 
"Hey, you made it back from the ballgame," Jana remarked once I turned to face them. "Do you have Preston with you?"

  "No ma'am," I said.

  "Come on over here, sweetheart," Jana said. "I can't hardly hear you with this fan on."

  I started walking toward them slowly.

  "How'd the game go?" Bill asked.

  "Good," I said. "We lost, but it was fun. It was a close game."

  There was no TV or other electronic devices. There was quiet music playing in the background, but otherwise, the two of them were just sitting on the outdoor couch enjoying each other's company.

  "Jake was looking for you earlier," Bill said. "Did he catch up with you?"

  "I saw him before we left for the game," I said.

  Bill nodded.

  "Did he talk to you about volunteering?" Jana asked.

  The question instantly made me breathe a little easier. If that was what he wanted to talk to me about, it meant I could rule out the possibility of Bill and Jana asking me to move out.

  "No ma'am. Why? Was he curious about it?"

  She shrugged. "I thought he might want to ask you about it. He was acting kinda funny this morning."

  "He was acting funny with me, too," Bill said. He looked at Jana. "He asked me about twenty questions about me and you and how I knew you were the one."

  "Really?" she asked. "Maybe he's having a hard time with the breakup. I asked him about it the other day, and he said he thought it was for-good this time."

  Bill shook his head as if that didn’t seem right. "Maybe he's just evaluating things. Maybe he does want to volunteer with Kristen," he added with a shrug. "Did he talk to you about doing that?"

  I shook my head, as I turned to absentmindedly stare into the empty swimming pool. "I saw him before the game, but he didn't mention it," I said.

  "All I know is that I'm gonna need a new picture of you for my fridge," Jana said. "I still have that old one of you and Abigail from a few years ago, but he came in the house and destroyed that new one of you and Preston from Abigail's wedding."

  I turned to face her. "Who destroyed it? Margo?"

  Their dog, Margo, was a 'she' not a 'he', but I was utterly confused by what Jana had just said.