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Jarret
They had the house to themselves. Papa had taken off a couple days earlier for a job. Mr. Digby had taken Nanny shopping at an outlet mall an hour away. Keefe said he was going to try to see Caitlyn at the Brandts’ house. And Roland, wherever he was, kept to himself.
When Zoe had shown up at the door wearing stretch jeans and the ivory, wool-cashmere Michael Kors coat he’d given her for Christmas, he couldn’t have wished for a better surprise.
“Hey, come on in.” He stepped aside to let her in and watched her take off her coat, admiring her jeans. Her long sweater hid her six-month belly well enough, but she shouldn’t come over when Papa was home.
“Can we talk?”
He slid his arms around her waist and kissed her, enjoying the scent of her perfume. It reminded him of desert flowers. “We can do anything we want,” he whispered. “There’s no one home.”
“Oh.”
Did he detect a hint of boredom in her tone? Maybe she was upset about something.
She sauntered down the hall, so he followed. “Can I have something to drink? Some juice?” She strode into the kitchen, talking to him over her shoulder and batting her eyes.
“Yeah, sure.” He went to the refrigerator while she seated herself at the little kitchen table. “We’ll take it upstairs.” He grabbed a Coke for himself and an orange juice for her.
“Can’t we sit here?” She stretched her arms out on the table, inviting him to join her.
“No. I’m downloading songs.” Drinks in hand, he headed for the stairs, not looking back until he reached the door of his bedroom.
She had followed at a distance, head down, gait slow. Something bothered her.
He wavered between concern and annoyance. Maybe he would sit at his computer and ignore her for a few minutes. She’d get around to sharing her problem. He wouldn’t have to ask. But he couldn’t remember the last time they’d been alone, and he longed to hold her. He set the drinks on his dresser, pulled her into his room, and wrapped his arms around her.
She usually melted in his arms, but her body stiffened. She lifted a hand to his chest and pushed him back.
“What’s the matter?” He leaned to kiss her neck.
She turned and stepped away. “Jarret, I want to slow down.” She ran her hand up the bedpost, her eyes on the bed.
He snickered before he thought how mad that might make her. “What does that mean, slow down?”
Clinging to the bedpost, she rounded the corner of the bed and met his gaze. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Uh . . . What’re you worried about? You’re already pregnant.” He leaned against the bedpost she held.
She withdrew her hand and crossed her arms.
His body tensed. He couldn’t help glaring. What was she thinking? Caitlyn must’ve been getting to her, filling her head with nonsense. “It’s not like you can—”
His cell phone rang and confused his thoughts. He glanced at it over on the dresser. “It’s not like—”
It rang again. He couldn’t figure out how to word what he wanted to say. What did he want to say? Something about not getting her virginity back. The phone kept ringing.
Zoe must’ve seen his confusion. She laughed.
He hated being laughed at. He stomped to the phone, meaning to check who called before answering it but instead bringing it to his ear. “Hello?”
“Jarret?” Papa said. “I’m on my way home, and I want you boys to be there when I get there.”
“Uh, I’ll try. When are you gonna get here?” He glanced at the window, his heart thumping. Papa didn’t mean immediately, did he?
“A couple hours.”
Jarret exhaled. “Good, I mean, why do you want us here?” He shouldn’t have answered the phone. If he would’ve known it was Papa . . . Papa never called him. What could he want? Could he know? Who would’ve told him? Roland? Jarret gritted his teeth.
“I need to talk to you boys tonight.”
That didn’t sound good. “Yeah? What about?” Papa was the last person he wanted to talk to. Did Papa know? Man, he’d faced enough people over this already. He just wanted to do the right thing by not having the abortion, but now he had to own up to everybody and his brother. So what if he was doing it with Zoe? Was he the first sixteen-year-old boy to do it with a girl? Everybody did it.
“I have a trip coming up, and I need you boys to go with me.”
“All of us?” He watched Zoe play with something on his nightstand. “Where to?”
“Mississippi.”
“Count me out.”
Papa breathed into the phone. “I’m not counting you out, Jarret. I said I need you boys there. That includes you. I need to organize an archaeological dig. You’ve all helped with this before and I—”
“No. I said no. Count me out.” Jarret ended the call and tossed his cell phone onto the dresser. He should’ve turned it off. Papa would probably try to call again. Did he know?
Jarret returned to Zoe, who was still messing with something on his nightstand. “Are you mad at me?” He took her by the arm, turning her to himself and pulling her close.
Her honey-brown eyes sparkled with their natural beauty, but they had a definite coldness about them. “I’m not mad at you. I’ve just been thinking. I don’t want this kind of relationship. I think we went too fast.”
Feeling the slap of her words, he released her and went to the window. “You don’t like me anymore?” He clenched his jaw.
“I like you, Jarret. Why can’t we just do things differently?”
“Differently? You mean like Keefe and Caitlyn?” He spun around and took slow steps toward her, speaking with an annoyed tone. “You want me to court you, see you only with my father around or with your parents?” He came up behind her and spoke over her shoulder. “In case you’ve forgotten, your daddy don’t like me much. He said he’d kill me if he found me with you.”
He grabbed her arm and forced her to face him. “Do you really like having to tell Mr. Summer everywhere you’re going? You sure didn’t tell him you were coming over here. Where does he think you are?”
She yanked her arm from him, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and sauntered to the window. “Yes, I lied to Mr. Summer. He thinks I’m visiting my family. And I was, for a while, so it was partly true. I had Mom drop me off at the Brandts’ and I walked here. I really wanted to talk to you about this.”
“I don’t want to talk. I haven’t been alone with you in over a month. No one’s here. We don’t get chances like this anymore. And . . . Papa just said I have to go on a trip. I’ll probably be gone for a time. I’ll miss you.” He paused, giving his words time to sink in, looking as downcast as he could. “You know I love you.”
She cast him a sad and sympathetic glance.
He went to her and pulled her into his arms. Before she could break away, he kissed her, good and long, trying to communicate how desperately he needed her.
Her hands went to his shoulders, and she melted in his arms.