“I know.” The high pitch of her voice told him she was nervous and near tears. Christ, what was going on? “But I’m…I think I…oh dammit.” A few beats of silence. “Maybe we could get together…for a drink or something…and talk.”
“Gianna. Jesus. What’s going on?”
He felt as if a giant fist had just been driven into his gut, all the air knocked out of him. He could hardly draw a breath. This was fucking insane.
“I don’t know. I don’t know. I’m confused. I miss you and I want to talk to you.”
Jake covered his eyes with one hand and slumped back in his chair. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Please, Jake. I know you were hurt by what happened…”
Jesus, there she went with the pity again. Was that what this was all about? “It was a long time ago,” he said.
“I know, I know. You probably can’t forgive me, but I realize now what a mistake I made.”
“It was over a year ago!”
Disbelief had his own voice rising and he fought back the emotions churning inside him.
“I’m sorry. I am so sorry. You have no idea…”
“What about Andrew?”
She didn’t answer.
He’d waited so long for this day. Actually, he’d given up hope this day would ever really come, had come to terms with the fact that Gianna and Andrew were together, although for a long time after the break-up he’d had dreams about it almost every night. And now it was really happening. She wanted him back. Unfuckingbelievable.
He’d loved her. Once. Man, in his dreams he’d been pretty quick to take her back, but now he hesitated. When he’d seen her at that picnic he’d been rattled, but probably more because of the unexpectedness of the encounter. Did he really still have feelings for her?
He tried to sort out the tangled knot of emotions inside him and gave it up.
“I don’t know, Gianna.” Then he frowned. “Are you and Andrew having problems?” What if that bastard was screwing around on her? He already knew Andrew had his eye on Shelby, so it was entirely possible he had other women too. Shit.
“Sort of.”
Huh. Not much of an answer. He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut.
Another soft, sad-sounding sigh. “Would you think about it? About maybe just getting together some time for a drink? You still have my cell phone number, right?”
Pathetic fool that he was, yeah, it was still programmed into his own cell phone. “Yeah.”
“Think about it and call me,” she invited in that breathy voice. He pictured her, all dark hair and eyes and sexy mouth. And kind of felt sorry for her.
He hung up the phone and sat there for a long time, replaying the conversation in his mind, trying to make sense of it all. But there was no sense to it. He could imagine a hundred different scenarios. What if Gianna and Andrew’s marriage had been a mistake? What if she still had feelings for him? Could he actually forgive her and take her back?
Did he want to forgive her and take her back?
He felt like his head was going to explode.
This was a freakin’ nightmare.
“Do you think your parents might get the wrong idea about us?”
Jake had picked Shelby up and they were on their way to visit her parents. He had no idea how this had come about. After Gianna’s call, he’d been distracted and confused. Should he be ending things with Shelby? Should he call Gianna? How could he call her when she was married? How could he even think of doing that? But he did think of it, because hell, he’d thought about nothing else for months after they’d broken up. Wasn’t this what he’d been waiting for?
Or was it? Because only moments before Gianna’s call, he’d been all confused about his feelings for Shelby and how he hadn’t wanted her to leave his place on Sunday night, which was not supposed to be part of this little deal they had going on.
So when he’d picked up the phone to call Shelby, he wasn’t even a hundred percent sure why he was calling her. He wanted to see her. He felt guilty about talking to Gianna. He felt guilty about even thinking about calling Gianna. But why should he feel guilty when he and Shelby had only a no-strings-attached deal between them? Then he was talking to her and asking to see her that evening, and she was telling him she’d already made plans to visit her parents, and invited him along.
First he’d said no. No, as in hell no, no freakin’ way he wanted to meet her parents, like he was her real boyfriend or something. He never did the whole meet-the-parents thing—his hookups never got that far and that was fine with him. Meeting parents was way too serious for his casual life.
But somehow, there they were, sitting in his car on their way to see her parents.
She snorted at his question. “Don’t worry about that. They’ll barely notice we’re there.”
He laughed. She’d told him about her parents getting back together yet again and how her mom hadn’t even remembered she was coming the last time she’d gone over. She had another container of cookies on her lap, though.
“What’s with the cookies?” he asked as he drove. “Taylor says you’re always making cookies for people. I thought you didn’t like to cook.”
“Cookies are about the extent of my culinary skills,” she said. “I don’t know why I do that. Okay, yes I do.” She sighed. “When I was a kid, one time my parents were having this huge blow up, in their bedroom yelling and throwing things at each other. I went into the kitchen, and to distract myself I made cookies. I had to focus on all the measurements and it…helped. I guess. And then my parents came out of their bedroom and they smelled the cookies and they stopped fighting. And they…” She looked out the side window of the car, pausing in her story. “They ate the cookies and they said what a good job I’d done. They were actually paying attention to me and they stopped fighting.” She shot him a wry smile. “For a while. I guess I have this weird feeling that if I make cookies, everything will be okay. Even though I know it won’t.”
He reached for her hand and squeezed it, kept it within his as he drove. “You’ve never made cookies for me.”
She grinned. “I don’t think you need cookies from me. Your life seems pretty together.” He snorted and she tipped her head as she looked at him. “Isn’t it?”
“Sure.” Yeah, right. As if he wasn’t confused enough about his career, that phone call from Gianna had messed his head up but good. What the hell was he supposed to do about that? And oh yeah, why was he meeting Shelby’s parents again? Jesus.
Following her directions, he pulled into the driveway, and they walked into the house.
“Hey, Mom and Dad! I’m here.”
A woman sat on the couch in the living room, alone, a small woman like Shelby, a little plumper, her blonde hair cut short. “Oh, Shelby. Hi.”
He caught Shelby’s eye roll even though her mother apparently didn’t. “Don’t tell me you forgot I was coming again.”
“I’m just a little distracted,” her mother said, rising and coming toward her for a hug. “And who’s this?”
Shelby introduced Jake to her mother. “What are you distracted about, Mom?”
Mrs. Leighton sighed and sank back down onto the couch. “Your father’s not home yet.”
“Oh.”
“And he hasn’t called.”
“Uh-huh.” Shelby shot a glance at Jake who lifted his eyebrows. “Well, I brought you some cookies.”
“Oh thank you, honey.” Mrs. Leighton waved a hand. “Just put them in the kitchen. Would you two like a drink?”
“Um…” Again she looked at Jake.
“I’d like a cookie,” he said softly with a faint smile.