Page 25 of Handling Skylar (Hope Parish #5)

JAKE

Fortified with Sky and her delicious chocolate banana pancake concoction, I drove up to Majestueux, the house looking big and intimidating for the first time in my life.

I thought about waking up in Sky’s bed in her beautiful house by the bayou, the scent of her mixed in with her delicious smelling soaps and beauty products, her upbeat personality.

She was like pure sunshine in my life and I couldn’t seem to get enough of her.

Damn, she was so beautiful.

I’d never been more open with a woman. Truthfully, I’d never trusted one to get as close to me as Sky had.

She had been there with me during that meltdown, and she had offered me sanctuary as naturally as she breathed.

It was just part of her nature. I’d never figure out why, but my tie to her was strong.

It had happened in an instant, at first sight, a long time ago, and what I wanted from her was a chance to see where it all went.

Just a chance to be with her, connect with her, more than I had last night, more than the physical to see if she could save me just a little bit, just enough to allow me to know myself, my dreams, to take the tension off my mind.

I didn’t want the amazing sex I’d known we would have muddle up the connection I wanted to build.

I’d been denying myself for two long years, and the need for her ran through me hard, cutting deep, straight to my core.

There were other girls. There were always other girls, but since I’d laid eyes on her, the women at school paled by comparison.

Now it was about this girl, about winning her for me, about not worrying if she fit.

I had to pause for a moment as the sheer sensuousness of last night and this morning—only hours ago—and I could still taste her skin, the satisfaction to have her sweet and naked beneath me, wanting me, her mouth parted, her legs spread, letting me push up into her, take her, fuck her, make her mine.

I had crossed a threshold where I found myself in uncharted waters—romantically, personally and professionally.

Making my own decisions—jettisoning Anna Kate, getting involved with Sky, forgiving Chase, discovering that I needed to find out who I was and what I wanted.

Had I worked so hard for all of this because it was my legacy or because I really wanted it?

I would die a terrible death to find out that everything I had lived for my whole life was a lie.

To have my foundations ripped away like they had been when my brother left without a word.

Other than the shock of finding out that our ancestor was a murderer and a thief, it was the single most defining moment in my life. He’d made a stand.

And, I hadn’t.

Until now.

I went inside and up the stairs to my room.

Pulling out a bag, I threw my things inside.

Downstairs, I set it by the door and looked at my watch.

My parents would still be having breakfast. They, along with Chase and River, had blown up my phone and I felt both guilty and angry as I headed for the patio.

“Jake!” my momma said as she jumped up from the table and ran to me. She hugged me. I closed my eyes and hugged her back, my throat thick.

“Jake. Where were you? We were worried sick!” my daddy said as he glared at me over his eggs and bacon. I let my momma go and faced him. “I was at Sky’s. I’m going to be staying with her for a while.”

“Sky? Skylar Bransom? The Blue Coyote owner? Whatever happened to Anna Kate Montgomery? I thought you wanted someone in your life who…”

“Who what? Fit the Southern Belle, high society mold?” I released a heavy breath, realizing what an arrogant fool I’d been, how I couldn’t see the huge mistake I was making even six months ago. Now it was clearer and I didn’t want to fall back on my own self-indulgent ways.

“Your words,” my momma said. “I think Sky is accomplished, beautiful and ever since she came to this town we finally have a hairdresser who’s top-notch. I totally found it tedious to drive to Lafayette for my hair. You know she’s applied to become a Belle.”

I did a mental double-take. Why hadn’t she told me that? “A Belle? Seriously?”

“Yes, River sponsored her. Feels that she could really contribute to serving the community and with the festival you are planning we can use all the help we can get.” She smoothed down my sleeve.

“Are you really moving out?” she asked anxiously.

“I know it’s probably time, you are twenty-six, no longer a boy. Maybe that’s a good step for you.”

My momma looked at my daddy who was assessing my mood like a master. “What’s this about?”

Silence reigned for several moments, expectation swelling in the air. “It’s about finding out what I want and not being under your shadow or Chase’s. I need to get away from here because I find that it’s not Chase I’m angry at.”

My daddy straightened. “Oh, who are you angry at?”

“You.” I waited a beat and he blinked a couple of times.

“Me? I don’t understand.”

“I know that you’ve changed, Daddy. I see that, but you were the one who drove Chase away, and I didn’t know how to deal with that when I was a teenager.”

“So now you’re blaming me?”

“I’m not blaming you. I’m being honest with how I feel.”

“You have to leave to do that?” my momma looked dismayed that I was now angry at Daddy, but nothing in our family was ever easy. I reached out and squeezed her arm, giving her an encouraging look. “I made up with Chase, Momma. Just give me some time.”

“Amy,” my daddy said, softly. He rose and drew her against him. “All right, Jake. You go and make your discoveries.”

“And, what about the orchard? Are you selling it?” My momma’s expression startled, she stared at my daddy, alarm flickering in her eyes.

“I’m not prepared to talk about the future of the orchard right now. You leaving me high and dry there? Pulling out of the plans to do the Fall Festival?”

I stiffened. “Do you want me out?” I narrowed my eyes and stared at the horizon, trying to corral my anger. Was that because my daddy thought so little of me and my management or because I was going to lose an important and deep-seated part of my life. I wish I knew my own mind, but I didn’t.

A dull red climbing up his face, a sure sign my daddy was losing his patience. “No, dammit, boy. I want to know what you want.”

Did he really want to know or was this just a way to placate me? Inhaling deeply, I kept my gaze direct and unyielding, my anger settling into a heavy, resigned feeling. “I’ll stay on and do the Fall Festival, but afterward I want some answers, Daddy.”

“Fair enough.”

I turned, walking away, but heard my momma say, “James, you’d better start explaining what is going on.”

“In good time, Amy, my sweet. For now, let him go.”

I didn’t know what was going on. I had some thinking to do about my own life, but for now the work was still there. I grabbed my bag on the way out the door and didn’t look back as the house disappeared in my rearview.

***

If I had ever wondered what I’d really been dodging for all those years, I sure as hell found out over the next two days.

At one point in this crazy roller coaster of self-discovery I wanted to get blindingly drunk again.

I knew from experience that didn’t solve a thing.

So instead, I worked on the Elliott grove and put myself through some of the worst body abuse and hard physical labor I’d ever heaped on myself.

The grove had been neglected for a long time, but clearing the land was akin to clearing my mind.

In between planning sessions and supervision of the Harvest Festivals intricacies, I pulled brush, decimated weeds, fought wildlife, until my clothes were soaked each day with sweat, until my shoulders were burning, until my muscles were quivering from sheer physical exhaustion.

Sky kept everything light, and I was so thankful for that.

Every day she’d make me smile with something cute and witty or sassy and smart.

But even with her presence, there was only one way to deal with the rage of emotions.

And that was to face them and take them apart, piece by piece, until I got to what was hidden underneath.

It would be a process, but right now, it was about battering the anger and trying to release it.

“I decided to come out here and see for myself that the Great Golden Sutton Boy was actually getting his hands dirty.”

My head jerked up at my sister’s chiding voice.

I looked over my shoulder. She was standing not far from where I was crouched as I took stock of a big, ole’ tree in front of me, assessing the soil.

With her hands firmly on her hips and a regal look on her face, ruined only by the cheeky grin, her eyes snapped playfully.

She looked rested and happy and as put together as always in a pair of skinny jeans that came to just above her ankles, a pair of sexy sandals on her feet, and a flowing blue blouse, the pretty material at the shoulders fluttering in the breeze. That made me feel damn good.

“Princess River Pearl? Is that you?”

“You may rise, my good fellow. Curtsying just doesn’t suit you without your tiara.”

I stared at her, still grinning that damn grin, a tough cookie glint appearing in her eyes. “Don’t push your luck, little sister. Unless I’m mistaken, the river is easily in throwing distance and you’d make a mighty fine splash. How poetic would that be to dunk River in the river?”

River stared right back. “Ha ha, big brother. You’re forgetting one important fact.”

I rose and took a step and she didn’t so much as flinch. That was my sister for sure. “What fact would that be?”

She arched a brow. “I’ve been trained by one Braxton Outlaw, my gorgeous and contrary husband who knows how to throw a mean left hook and is a very good teacher.”