James helped his mom clear the table after dinner. Partly because old habits die hard and partly because he needed to talk to her privately.
If he and Layla were going to stay here, he needed to set some ground rules. His overly anxious mother meant well, but boundaries weren’t Sondra’s specialty.
Layla stood up from the table and reached down to grab her plate at the same time James moved to get it. Their fingers brushed, and warmth spread across his skin. Out of instinct, he glanced over to her, his eyes widening.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He had been so preoccupied with his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed how close he was standing to Layla. He could smell her coconut shampoo and feel her warmth cascading across his skin. He wanted to lean in. To soak in every part of her.
Just as he moved to lean closer, he realized what he was doing and snapped back. That was the last thing he needed.
Layla shook her head. “It’s fine.”
“I’ll take care of this,” he said, smiling down at her.
Layla chewed her lip as she pulled her hands away and clasped them together in front of her. “Sure.”
James took it from her, making sure he was very aware of where he placed his hands. He wasn’t sure how she felt when they touched, and he didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.
He needed to keep his ridiculous thoughts in check if he was going to get through the weekend.
He gathered a few more dishes and stacked them on top of each other in an attempt to look busy. “I’ve got this covered. If you want, you could go lay down or something. I’m sure you’re tired.”
Layla’s expression softened as she nodded. “Actually, I was hoping to take a bath. Do you think that would be okay?”
James nodded. “Ma, Layla would like to take a bath.”
Sondra looked over at them. “Of course. Upstairs and to the left. Feel free to use my bath salts,” she said as she wiped her hands on a dishrag.
James felt warmth begin to rise up inside of him. Maybe it was because Layla seemed to fit so easily into his life here. Worried he’d blush for what felt like the millionth time, he gave Layla a wide smile. “I’m pretty sure you can find your way.”
The sides of Layla’s mouth tipped upwards as she nodded. “I’m sure I can.” She moved to walk past him but then paused as she glanced up to study him. She looked as if she was going to say something but then changed her mind. “Thanks,” she said.
James watched her as she made her way up the stairs. It was strange. Even though he’d only known her for less than forty-eight hours, he was beginning to recognize her habits. The slight downward turn of her shoulders. How her hair fell forward, hiding her face. He could tell something was bothering her, but he didn’t know what.
He wanted to, though. He wanted to learn all there was to learn about Layla.
“James,” his mom’s voice cut through his thoughts.
Embarrassment coursed through him. “Yeah?” he asked. He looked over to find his mom grinning at him.
Great. When she got that look in her eye, it only meant trouble.
“Is everything okay?” Sondra asked as she leaned one elbow against the counter.
James gathered more dishes—anything to distract himself from the questions his mom was about to ask him. With both arms full, he made his way to the sink, pausing only once to glance down at her.
“Everything’s great,” he said with an exaggerated smile.
Sondra clearly didn’t believe him. That was the problem with knowing someone for their entire life, his mom always knew when he was lying.
“Child—”
“Mom, don’t,” he said as he dumped the dishes into the sudsy water. He watched as they sunk below the surface. He wasn’t ready to analyze his feelings on his own, and he certainly wasn’t ready to dissect them with his mom.
Sondra didn’t say anything as James placed his hands on the lip of the sink and leaned in. Maybe he wanted to push down his feelings as easily as he could everything else in his world. He’d gotten so used to not caring that this sudden urge to know Layla had him completely discombobulated.
The sound of his mother clearing her throat brought his gaze over to her. She was studying him. James shot her a not right now look and shoved his hands into the warm, soapy water to find the rag. He pulled it out and began scrubbing the food off of the plates.
Sondra took the dishes from him once they were washed. She rinsed, dried, and put them away. They worked in silence for a few minutes before she sighed.
“I’m sorry I pushed you,” she said. Her voice was low, and James could tell she was worried about something.
He didn’t like that. This was his mother. He wanted her to be happy.
He stopped washing the dish in his hand so he could turn to study her. “I know you love me, Ma, but sometimes…” His chest constricted as memories of his life before he joined the military flooded his mind.
Truth be told, he’d never had the greatest relationship with his parents. Even though he looked like Jimmy, he took after Sondra in temper. Perhaps that was why he’d always struggled with coming home.
“When we got the call about what happened, we weren’t sure what to do,” Sondra said, her voice cracking from the pain she had been carrying around.
James often forgot that he wasn’t the only one affected by the bombing in Afghanistan. Sometimes, he closed in on himself so much that he forgot a world existed outside his pain.
Feeling like the worst son ever, he turned, pulling his hands from the water so he could focus on his mom. “I know,” he said.
Sondra looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. James hated seeing his mom hurting. She glanced down at his hands and handed over the towel she’d been holding. James wiped the suds from his skin and set the towel down on the counter so he could hug his mom.
There wasn’t a good explanation for why he stayed away from his family after the accident. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was too painful to go on living his life when Clarisa couldn’t. To give himself to his family when so many other soldiers didn’t make it back.
Moving on with his life—building something better—felt wrong.
Why did he get to move on, to live a life, when they couldn’t?
“I’m sorry, Mom,” he said as he rested his chin on the top of her head.
Sondra buried her face in his shoulder as she held him tight. “I know things happened when you went over there. I know you want to keep it locked away. But I hate how it’s keeping you from us.” She pulled back to study him. Her weathered skin was wet from tears. She reached up and rested her hand on his cheek. “You deserve so much happiness.”
James nodded despite the doubt that rose up inside of him. He wanted to believe that was true, but he knew it was a lie. He didn’t deserve anything. Not when his actions had hurt so many others.
Sondra steadied her gaze. “I know it’s hard for you to believe right now, but I’ll keep the candle lit for the both of us, okay? Just until you build your faith.”
James swallowed despite the emotions that coated his throat. He missed his family, but they didn’t really understand what he went through. He hated the way they loved him no matter what. If they found out what really happened, he knew their view on him would change.
Desperate to move the conversation forward, he nodded and turned his attention back to the dishes. Sondra hesitated, and from the corner of his eye, he could see her blot her tears with the hem of her apron as she cleared her throat.
They worked in silence. James wished that his mind was silent, but it was anything but. The first impulse he had was to run. Pack up, get the heck out of here, and not stop until he was holed up in some dingy hotel where no one knew who he was. Where no one would tell him he was a good person. Because that was a lie, no matter how much his mom wanted him to believe otherwise.
But he knew that him leaving would only break his mother’s heart more, and he couldn’t do that to her or to Layla. He needed to stay. At least until he saw things through for Layla and Juan. Then he’d leave. Run and never look back. The pain here was too much to bear.
James was rinsing out the sink when movement by the stairs drew his attention. He glanced over to see Layla standing at the bottom step, leaning one shoulder on the wall. Her hair was damp and there was a soft, satisfied look on her face.
His heart took off in a gallop as he studied her. Layla raised her gaze up to meet his, a small smile playing on her lips.
“How was your bath, sweetheart?” Sondra asked.
James jumped as he turned to see his mom glancing between them with her eyebrows raised. Embarrassed that she might be reading his thoughts, James grabbed the dishrag and began to wipe off the counters.
“It was just what I needed,” Layla said, her voice sending waves of pleasure through James.
“Perfect,” Sondra said, tucking the dish towel through the handle on the stove. She brushed her hands off as she sighed. “I think I’ll head to bed.”
James nodded, and Layla said good night. Sondra patted each of them on the shoulder as she headed into her room and shut the door.
Now alone, James glanced over to see Layla twirling her hair around her finger. She was staring off into the distance. Not sure what to say, James headed over to the coffee pot.
“Coffee?” he asked.
Layla glanced over then shook her head. “No, thank you.”
James felt like an idiot as he set the pot back down.
“Tea would be nice though.”
Grateful for a task, James moved around the kitchen, locating the mugs and tea bags and filling a kettle with water. He set it on the stove and turned on the burner.
“It’ll be a few minutes,” he said.
Layla nodded as she made her way into the kitchen and leaned her hip against the counter. Silence engulfed the room. James glanced around, not sure what to do. He wanted to talk to Layla. He wanted to get to know her more.
But there was something holding him back. A giant, flashing neon sign above her head that said “She’s your best friend’s ex, you idiot.”
And if he’d learned anything from Afghanistan, it was that you only get one chance to do the right thing. And this time he was going to do the right thing.
He just needed to be strong enough to push down the feelings that rose up every time Layla smiled at him. Or when she let her guard down. The desire to pull her into his arms was taking over his common sense.
The shrill whistle of the teakettle sliced into his thoughts. He jumped as he turned and pulled the kettle from the stove. After the mugs were filled, he held out one for Layla to take.
“Thanks,” she said as she smiled up at him.
James tried to ignore the flecks of gold in her eyes and the light splash of freckles across her nose. He also tried to ignore how soft her skin looked. He inwardly growled at himself to get his mind straight. To focus on anything other than how much he wanted to kiss Layla right now.
“Porch?” he asked, nodding toward the back door.
Layla nodded and followed after him as they rounded the side of the house and made their way to the front. They settled into the rocking chairs, and James felt a bit better. The sun had set behind the trees, causing a soft darkness to surround them. Both chairs faced the road, making it easier for James to focus on something other than his feelings for Layla.
They rocked and sipped their tea in silence. It wasn’t until Layla set her mug down on the wood floor that she turned to smile at him. His heart instantly picked up speed.
“It’s beautiful here,” she said as she leaned her head back.
James’s gaze slipped down to her neck. Then he scolded himself and stared down at his tea. “It is. Life moves slower in Honey Grove.”
She brought up her feet to rest on the edge of the chair, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin on her knees. “I think slower is exactly what I need right now.”
James peered over at her. “Really?”
She closed her eyes, and James studied her profile. She looked calm but sad. His heart squeezed at the thought. She deserved to be happy.
“I guess I’ve always pictured what my life would be like by this point, and running from whatever trouble my ex got into wasn’t a part of the plan.” She squeezed her eyes and scrunched her nose like she was thinking about something unpleasant.
James glanced around. Of course. She was on the run with a man she didn’t know. That wasn’t what anyone pictured for themselves. “I’m sorry. I wish I could change things for you,” he said. The depth of his voice surprised even him.
Layla peeked over at him, and he wondered if she’d noticed it too. He hoped she wasn’t reading too much into it. She was studying him over her mug, which she’d tipped toward her lips. Her eyebrows were drawn together.
After she took a sip, she set the mug down on the armrest. “You really care about him, don’t you?” she asked.
James ran his hands through his hair. His chest felt constricted. What was he doing? Why was he allowing himself to feel these things for Layla? He knew she couldn’t ever be his.
He must have taken too long to answer. She leaned in closer. “James?” she asked.
The softness of her voice sent shivers down his back. He glanced up to see her only inches from him. It wouldn’t have taken any work to lean forward and press his lips to hers.
Idiot.
Needing to get out of there, he stood and walked over to the railing, resting his elbows on the wood. How could he have let this happen?
Hadn’t he learned?
His ears perked at the creaking of a rocking chair. He heard her footsteps as she made her way over to him. His senses were heightened whenever she was around.
She leaned her back against the railing next to him. Her arms were folded and her legs were stretched out in front of her.
Realizing that he looked like an idiot, having this emotional breakdown in front of her, James turned, leaning back against the railing with his legs outstretched. They stood in silence as the warm South Carolina air surrounded them.
“It’s hard for me not to feel loyalty to the guy who basically saved my life,” James finally said. He peeked over at Layla to see her staring at the porch floor.
Her lips were pinched and her eyes narrowed as if she were trying to process what he was saying. “Juan was a good guy,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just wish he’d made some different decisions.”
James felt like an idiot. What was he doing? Why was he really trying to get closer to Layla?
“Sometimes, people need to hit bottom before they realize where they were or what they lost.” Right now, all James could think about was how Juan was a moron to let a girl like Layla slip through his fingers. How could he just walk away from her?
James didn’t understand.
Layla was watching him when he turned his attention back to her. Her expression had softened as she chewed her lip.
“You’re nice,” she said.
James studied her as a heavy feeling settled in his gut. No, he wasn’t.
Not wanting to face his past, he shoved his hands into his pants pockets and pushed away from the railing. He made his way over to his mug and picked it up. He needed a good night’s sleep before tomorrow—or maybe he just needed to get away from Layla. She was confusing him.
“We should head to bed,” he said, picking up her empty mug. He avoided eye contact as he motioned toward the door. “Big day of birthday partying tomorrow.”
Layla’s soft laugh surrounded him and filled him with so much peace, it made him seize up. This wasn’t what he was supposed to be feeling. He’d hurt people. He didn’t deserve the contentment that being around Layla brought.
She deserved so much better than him. If he cared about her, he wouldn’t allow her to let him in.
“I’m excited to meet Jordan,” she said, wrapping her arms around her chest and following him back into the kitchen.
He tried not to read into the fact that Layla was standing right next to him. Or the fact that she was smiling up at him in an open and raw way. He tried to tell his heart to stop pounding, that nothing good would come from falling for her.
She was untouchable. She was Juan’s. And he didn’t deserve any of the love that was trying to wiggle its way into his heart.
If he wanted to protect her, he needed to keep her at a distance.