His Secret Love by Ava Ryan
16
Skye
The afternoonafter ending things with Jake, I pick the kids up from school and drop them off for a play date with the Smiths from downstairs, then let myself into Jake’s apartment to pack up my stuff. I’ve got a couple of free hours, so I figure I can make a good start. I’m passing through the living room on my way to my bedroom when I note the open balcony doors and catch a faint whiff of his sandalwood scent with a sinking heart.
He’s here?
Right after school?
Why, God?
I came early. He’s supposed to be at the hospital saving lives at this time of day, not here making my life more difficult than it already is at this painful juncture. I’m already using every limited mental resource at my disposal to keep my shit together. I’m trying hard not to collapse into a puddle of tears at the thought of returning the kids to Marlene later and never spending time here again. Never seeing Jake. Never seeing the kids. Now I’m supposed to keep it together while also unexpectedly encountering Jake?
Yeah, sure.
And Pink invited me to dance and sing backup for her next world tour.
I’m just frazzled and exhausted enough to entertain the idea of either sneaking back out the front door or tiptoeing the rest of the way to my bedroom to avoid any interaction with Jake when he appears at the balcony doors, his face backlit, and takes the decision out of my hands.
I freeze and stifle a curse. Dread takes over from there.
“Hey,” he says.
I clear my tight throat, ignore the growing ache in the center of my chest and pray my voice works. “Hey.”
“Can we talk for a minute? Out here?”
The quiet requests do not fill me with joy. First, hell no, I don’t want to talk to him. There’s nothing left to say, and any additional time spent in his presence will only deepen the scars across my foolish heart. Second, of all the places in the world where I don’t want to talk to him, out on the balcony, where it all began between the two of us, is the clear front runner.
On the other hand, when have I ever been able to deny Jake anything?
“Sure.”
He stands aside to let me pass, and I take great care not to brush up against his body or burst into tears. I walk over to the ledge, proud of myself for these small accomplishments when it feels as though the weight of his gaze between my shoulder blades propels me. Then I lean an elbow and try to look politely interested but not too invested in whatever he’s about to say. That strategy works reasonably well until I get a closer look at him and catch a glimpse of the raw turbulence in his eyes.
My breath catches audibly.
He hastily looks away, leaning both palms on the ledge as he stares straight ahead at the park. A muscle pulses in his jaw.
“I talked to Marlene.”
I blink, struggling to come up to speed. He talks to Marlene all the time, about the kids if nothing else. I’m not sure what relevance that could possibly have to this conversation.
“About…?”
“Us.”
I stare at him with absolute stupefaction, trying to figure out why he’d do something like that without discussing it with me first. Then I wonder if I need to obtain a restraining order against her or if I should go straight to trying to get myself enrolled in some sort of local witness protection program for dating gone awry.
My knees feel weak. That’s how strongly this news affects me.
“What?”
“I told her everything,” he says grimly.
“Why? How did she react?”
He spares me a rueful sidelong glance that tells me everything I need to know. Everything I already know. “Badly.”
“Oh my God,” I say, rubbing my chest as though that will slow down my racing heartbeat. “She must hate me. I can’t blame her if she does.”
He shrugs. “She needs a minute to adjust. She’ll be fine.”
That sounds like the sort of story people tell themselves when they know they’ve really screwed something up.
“How do you know?” I say.
He turns his head and stares me in the eye with that implacable steadiness of his. “Because I needed a minute to adjust when she started a relationship with someone else. But I turned out fine. And she’ll be fine.” He says it with such calm assurance that I frown, beginning to wonder if he might be right, even though my gut tells me that Marlene is exactly the type of person who’d take a vendetta to the grave under the right conditions. “Our marriage is already over. It’s been over for a while now. She knows I’ve been seeing other people. She just didn’t know it was you.”
“Yeah, well, now she does,” I say with a tinge of rising hysteria.
“Now she does.”
“Why would you do that without even telling me?” I cry. This lack of warning from him seems especially cruel. I at least deserve the chance to get my mind right if someone like Marlene plans to make my life a living hell. “Why would you bother telling her at this late date? She never had to know it all. You and I are over.”
Something hardens in his expression, calling me a liar and a fool without ever using those words and telling me I’d have better luck arguing the point with the wind.
“Bullshit.”
“You don’t even want a relationship,” I said, my voice pitching higher again. “You told me so. So did your profile.”
“Also bullshit. I thought I wasn’t ready for a new relationship. Then one snuck up on me when I wasn’t looking. And I’ve never been happier.”
A subtle glow flickers to light in his expression, something that makes his eyes smile at me without any involvement from his lips. This, right here, is the kind of look of absolute adoration that makes women swoon. I can’t believe it’s directed at me.
“Where’s all this coming from?” I ask, my racing blood making my face overheat.
“My heart,” he says without hesitation.
I go completely still. I can’t breathe. This man’s effect on me is that powerful. I rub the ache in my chest again, desperate to keep one foot on the ground if not both. I can’t just believe everything he says now and forget everything that’s happened before. I’ve got to be smarter than that.
“Jake. You didn’t even want me to meet your mother.”
He bites back a humorless laugh. “I see why you might think that. But when you’re wrong, you’re really wrong.”
“I can’t wait to be enlightened,” I say sourly. Now is no time for laughter, humorless or otherwise. Not with my entire life on the line here. “Please fill me in.”
He leans in, bringing all that urgency with him. “Of course I wanted you to meet my mother. Why do you think I had her meet me at the apartment rather than a restaurant?”
“What?”
“I want the two women in my life to spend time together and get to know each other. But at the time, I thought that the best thing was to keep it short and sweet and hustle her out of the room before she had time to pick up on the vibes between us. And I didn’t want to risk her saying anything in front of the kids when we haven’t told them yet.”
By now, my head is spinning. I abandon my chest and rub my temple instead.
“I’m trying to keep up with you, but I don’t know what any of this means,” I say. “What are you saying?”
There’s that look again. The glow. The adoration.
It thrills and terrifies me.
Especially when he raises a hand and gently runs his thumb along my jaw line, generating shivers across my skin and in all the places deep inside me that don’t think I should be this hopeful about my romantic future. Especially with a man like Jake.
He takes a deep breath.
“Live here. With me.”
My lower jaw hits the floor. I’d be less surprised if he suggested a cannibalistic arrangement with the neighbors.
“I can’t just live here with you, Jake.”
“Newsflash: you’ve already been living with me.”
Now is not the time for logic. “Yeah. As an employee. It’s too soon in our relationship. You don’t just move in with someone in three months.”
“Why not?” he says. “Our relationship has been seamless since the beginning. Except for the secrecy part. I was hoping you’d noticed.”
I ignore the question buried in there. If I give him an inch right now, he’ll take a thousand miles.
“If I moved in here, Marlene would—”
“Let me stop you right there,” he says, putting up a hand. “Your employment with Marlene is over as of this weekend, right? Which means that she’s no longer your issue. She’s my issue. And I plan to smooth the way between all three of us. If I played nice with her boyfriend that broke up our marriage, she can play nice with you.”
“Have you met Marlene?” I say, aghast at his suggestion that things could be that easy. “What reason has she ever given you to be this optimistic? Besides that, if I move in with you, I’ll have no apartment and no control. What if it all goes bad three months from now?”
“What if it doesn’t?”
I want to buy into that fairytale, but I’ve got to be smart and realistic about my future.
“Don’t you dare blow me off,” I say, firing up. “You’re rich. Your financial future is secure. Mine isn’t.”
“Skye—”
“Don’t Skye me. You’ll be fine. Meanwhile, I’ve got student loan debt from my law school career that wasn’t and no apartment to live in if things don’t work out between us.”
“You were already planning to sleep on your friend’s sofa for a while, right? Didn’t you just earn a lot of money for Marlene? Throw that in your bank account and save it for an apartment deposit if things don’t work out with us. What’s wrong with that?”
That makes some sense, but I’ve got too many other questions.
“Speaking of work, what will I do under this scenario of yours? Since you have all the answers today?”
“Whatever you want,” he says, shrugging as though the issue is no more complicated or daunting than tonight’s carryout selection for dinner.
“Seriously, Jake,” I say, exasperated.
“Seriously. Do whatever you want. Get a job. Go back to school. Lounge by the pool all day. I don’t give a fuck. Whatever makes you happy. Matter of fact, now that I’m thinking about it, you should be a freelance photographer. You’ve taken some amazing shots of the kids. People could hire you to take pics of their kids’ first days of school or learning to ride a bike. All the milestones. You’d be great at that. We’ll get you a camera, and you can set up one of the extra bedrooms as your office so you can get things off the ground.”
This is such a brilliant and exciting idea that my head nearly blows off my shoulders.
Worse, his persistence in acting like any of this is possible is starting to drive me insane.
“Yeah, but I’ve already got enough student loans, and I can’t just—”
“Newsflash number two,” he says, eyes glinting and his tone suggesting that I’ve shown up for an important corporate job interview in full clown regalia. “I plan to pay off your student loans the second your back is turned. I’m sick of hearing about them. They’re a serious buzzkill. I want them out of our lives.”
The idea that he would do something like that for me slows me way down and causes a sudden surge of emotion to break free inside me. I open my mouth, but it takes me a long time to get any words out. My heart is way too full to give them the space they need.
“You…you would do that for me?”
“Of course I would.” He edges closer, his tone softening. “I just bought a jet, Skye. Paying off your student loans is the rough equivalent of rotating the tires and an oil change on the jet. I can afford it, and I’m happy to do it. Trust me.”
Part of me wants to, but I’m already shaking my head and thinking up the next obstacle.
“But—”
This is evidently one but too many. “Why are you throwing up all these roadblocks?” he says, finally out of patience with me. I’m getting sick of myself and my inhibitions by this point as well, to be honest. “We have a clear path now. We can build something great. What are you so scared of?”
I usually hate admitting a weakness of any kind, but I can’t hold back on him. Not today. And it’s not until this very moment of him asking me that I realize what’s really going on.
“My parents died. My grandmother took me in and raised me because there was nowhere else for me to go. Then she died, and Jasmine’s parents let me live with them for my last couple years of high school because there was nowhere else for me to go.” I shrug, helpless to convey the lifelong loneliness and constant feeling of being adrift, especially with the sentences taking their time about forming themselves. “I want to be in a house that’s mine. Where I belong. Where people want me. Not a place that’s the best under the circumstances because there’s nowhere else for me to go and people feel sorry for me. Maybe that’s why I’ve been a nanny so many times. I want to see what families can be like even if they’re not mine.”
I hate the vulnerability almost as much as I hate the scared-little-girl sound of my voice. And I seriously don’t think I can handle it if he brushes me off or teases me right now.
But there’s warmth in his eyes as he watches me. Tenderness. Infinite understanding.
“Look around, Skye. My kids and I are crazy about you. We want you right here. With us.”
“Maybe, but what if it’s all a dream?” I say, knowing it sounds silly and overblown. But nothing in my life has ever led me to believe I could ever be the recipient of a reversal of fortune like this.
Saying it aloud has the strangest effect on me. The sound of the words seems to dissipate the fear as though the two can’t exist side by side. I feel a new calm. And I’m no Princess Leia, but I also feel a new hope.
“I get that,” he says quietly. “It’s a fair point. Maybe this is all a dream. But what if it’s real? You’re going to let it slip away?”
“No,” I say with a spark of laughter at the absurdity of such a suggestion.
And relief is there, too, because it all sounds so straightforward when he says it like that.
He eases closer again, casually looping an arm around my waist.
“You’ve had a better offer today?”
“Nope,” I say, trying hard to quash my smile as he presses a lingering kiss to my forehead.
“You’re expecting a better offer before the close of business today?” he says, those velvety lips curving as they slide down to my cheek.
“Not that I know of, no,” I say, laughing openly now.
“Ah. So you forgot our big rule. That’s the problem.”
“And our big rule is…?” I say, feeling sheepish now.
He pauses to press a single perfect kiss to my mouth. “That it’s you. And me. We’ve got commotion around us, but we can figure it out. As long as we stay focused on each other.”
“That doesn’t seem so bad,” I say, holding his gaze even though it feels too bright now. Way too intense. But he’s right about the fear thing. I’m not going to let it ruin the very best things in my life. “But what if I think I’m falling in love with you?”
A joyous laugh from him makes my heart contract in response.
“I’m in love with you. I don’t have any questions about it. Let’s see what we can do about getting rid of that I think.”
We come together in a laughing, whole-body embrace that leaves no distance between us and no room for breath or thought. We lose ourselves in urgent kissing that encompasses eyes, cheeks and noses before zeroing in on lips and tongues. We run our hands through each other’s hair, rubbing, massaging and squeezing our way to shoulders and breasts, backs, hips and asses. He’s huge and hard as we grind against each other. I’m soft and wet. More than ready. Agonized with my desire, my happiness and the sun’s radiance on our skin.
“Bedroom,” he whispers when I let him up for air.
“No,” I say, backing him toward the lounge chair where it all started that fateful night. “Right here.”
“I forgot to replace my emergency condom,” he says, squeezing my wrists in a futile attempt to get me to slow down. “I need to run to the bathroom.”
“Forget those condoms,” I say, giving his shoulders a hard push before I hastily reach under my hem and divest myself of my panties. “I’m on the pill anyway.”
That’s all he needs to hear.
He drops onto the lounger, keeping his glittering eyes glued to mine during the brief time it takes for him to unbuckle and unzip. I eagerly straddle him and get myself into position with my hands braced behind his head. He grips one of my hips with one hand and his big dick with the other. I ease lower, letting my head fall back and my eyes roll closed as I drown in the exquisite sensation of Jake between my legs.
Jake filling me up.
Jake loving me.
I ride him hard, riveted by those sultry eyes and his guttural sounds of encouragement. The way his hard body strains against mine. The way he seems almost dazed with pleasure.
Like I am.
He comes first, his hoarse shout followed by a relentless spasm that makes his body buck beneath me. I’m right there with him, reveling in his sharp smack on my ass, perfectly timed as always, that intensifies my release. I cry his name loud enough to make people down the street far below look up, frown and think, That lucky woman sounds like she’s having the sex of her life.
When it’s over, I slump against him and savor the blissful emptiness as he traces lazy circles on my thigh.
“So…” he says when he eventually stirs. “You love me, huh?”
I raise my head and keep my smile on ruthless lockdown. A difficult task with those beautiful blue eyes shining so brightly at me.
“Correction: I think I love you.”
Glowering, he shoves me off his lap, stands, adjusts his pants and takes my hand to pull me to my feet. Before I know what’s happening, he stoops just enough to toss me into a fireman’s hold over his shoulder.
I gotta tell you, there’s something thrilling about being manhandled like this. As he can probably tell from my shriek of delight.
“Jake! What are you doing?”
“I should toss you off the balcony,” he grumbles.
“No!” I cry. “I take it back! I love you! I love you!”
“Too late, smartass,” he says, swinging me around as he heads back inside. “Now you’re gonna have to make it up to me. For the rest of the afternoon until the kids get here.”
Best afternoon of my life.
The two of us are showered and changed by the time the Smiths drop the kids off a couple hours later. Wet-haired and rosy-cheeked, they fill us in on all their exploits, including the truly disgusting tale of the Smiths’ toddler barfing up her hot dog after she ate it too fast.
“It was gross,” Becca concludes.
“Super gross!” Charlie says with more glee than I think I’ve ever seen from him. “Can we have a snack? Fruit roll-ups?”
“In a minute,” Jake says, shooting me a pointed look across the tops of their heads. “We want to talk to you for a minute first. Let’s grab a seat.”
“We’re finally getting a puppy?” Becca says, practically shimmering with excitement as he steers them toward the sofa with me following along. “A cocker spaniel?”
“We’re not getting a puppy,” Jake says as we all sit.
“A kitten?” Charlie says.
“No pets are involved. Sorry.”
“Damn!” Charlie says.
“Language,” Jake says, rubbing him on the top of the head. “This is about Skye. She’s not going to be your nanny anymore.”
“We know,” Becca says, sounding bored. “We get Grumpy Nanny now. Mommy told us. Her name is Mrs. Roy.”
“Right,” Jake says. “But Skye will still be around. Because she’s my, ah, girlfriend.”
I hold my breath and brace myself, waiting for their reaction—
“Duh,” Becca says, radiating impatient indifference the way only a six-year-old can. “Can we have our snack now?”
“Wait, what?” Jake says, exchanging a startled glance with me. “Duh? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Everyone knows Skye’s your girlfriend, Daddy,” Becca says with unmistakable exasperation. “You always look at her with heart eyes. Like the emoji.”
“Yeah! Like the emoji!” Charlie says. “You always look like you want to kiss her!”
Giggling, the two hooligans throw their arms around each other’s necks and engage in theatrical kissing sounds as though they’re auditioning for the Royal Shakespeare Company.
I’m sure I’ve been more stunned than this in my life. But I can’t remember when.
Luckily, Jake recovers before I do. “How long have you known?” he asks them.
“The whole time,” Becca says, shrugging. “And you were all whispery on the plane to Miami.”
“Yeah!” Charlie says, nodding. “Plus, you make us go to bed on time now. That never used to happen. Can we have our snacks now?”
“Not so fast,” Jake says, biting back a laugh. “I assume that’s okay with you two?”
Muttering, Charlie uses one of his pudgy little hands to smack his own forehead.
“Will you stop asking dumb questions, Daddy?” he says as he climbs off the sofa and heads to the kitchen with Becca hot on his heels. “Skye’s family.”
A sudden wave of tears chokes me up, prompting Jake to lean in and give me a tender kiss on the cheek that further threatens my equilibrium.
“She sure is, buddy,” Jake says. “She sure is.”