“Bullshit—”
“But they’re mine,” he says, interrupting me and sitting down in a lounger. I jerk around to look at him. His face is completely closed off but there’s a fire in his eyes. “And I’d kill any son of a bitch who would try to harm them or take them away from me.”
“Roman—”
“It’s not about being a good man, Allen. I’ve never been a good man and I once roamed the same fucking streets you did. What brought us to the roads you and I travel might not be the same—but they’re not all that different.”
“She deserves better than me, Roman, and no matter what you say, man… it’s not the same. I’ll never be clean. There are times I shower in water so damn hot my skin feels like it will boil, until I fucking bleed—”
“Allen…”
“And I still don’t feel clean. I’ll never feel clean.”
“You need to get back into therapy.”
“It was bullshit. It’s all bullshit. Nothing they say. Nothing I do can erase the past or the things done to me. They are inside of me, they’ve become a poison in my system and I might have pulled my life together thanks to you and Ana, but that poison still sits inside of me, reminding me. Every. Damn. Day.”
“So let it live inside of you, but claim your woman.”
“Jessie deserves better.”
“So does Ana, but I’m keeping her and I try every day to make sure she never regrets being with me. Trust me, Allen. Do the same. You will regret it the rest of your life if you don’t.”
“And Jessie will regret it the rest of her life if she finds out. I can’t do that to her, Roman. She deserves better.”
Roman stands and claps his hand on my shoulder. Our gazes lock and that fire is still burning in his eyes. It’s burning so bright it feels like it’s touching me.
“In my book, Allen, there is no better. You might have started off Ana’s brother, but you’re mine now and I couldn’t be prouder.” He walks off after delivering that message. I just remain here once he leaves, feeling like I can’t breathe. I watch the man who saved my life, who helped me recover when I was below the bottom, a man I love and admire walk away after claiming me as part of his family. I close my eyes against the emotions that brings to the surface and my hands tighten into fists.
When I open my eyes it’s not Roman I see. It’s not even Ana or my nephew. It’s a vision that’s not even there. It’s a picture in my mind of Jessie smiling at me, her lips swollen from my kiss, her eyes filled with desire… desire for me.
Christ.
10
Jessie
“You know, I’ve lived here forever and I’ve never done this,” I laugh as Allen lifts me up in the horse-drawn carriage.
“Then I’d say it’s past time,” he says once he’s settled in beside me. He leans down and kisses my nose. Which is probably not sexy but it feels good, especially when he puts his arm around me. I lean into him, happier than I can ever remember being in my life.
“This is one of the reasons I love this city. The architecture of the buildings and just the atmosphere in general, it makes you feel like you are transported back in time. It honors our past… The city is entrenched in it.”
“You never thought of moving?” he asks.
“Not really. St. Augustine is home.”
“I get it. I’ve settled in Miami. It might not have been where I would pick, but it’s home now. It’s where my family is.”
“Your family?”
“My sister Ana, my nephew, and Ana’s husband Roman.”
“He’s the man you work for, right?”
“He’s my boss, but he’s more than that. I’ve never really had a friend before, but Roman has been there for me when no one else was. Actually I drove everyone else off and Roman refused to move. I mean, I get he was there because of my sister, but he didn’t have to be. I owe him everything.”
“I would have been there for you, Allen,” I tell him, my hand squeezing into his leg. I know I haven’t known him long, but I can’t imagine not being there for him anytime he needed me. I feel that drawn to him in ways I can’t truly understand. There’s a connection between us that defies explanation and I’m just going to embrace that—I’m that confident of it.
Allen’s dark eyes hold mine and there seems to be a storm brewing in them. Something in them—which I can’t name—sends a chill of alarm down my spine. Before I can question him, his hand comes out and slides against the side of my face.
“No, Mouse. You wouldn’t have been. No one could have saved me back then, especially you. I would have hated you for trying.”
I think over his words. They hurt me. There’s so much pain and self-loathing inside of them you can literally feel it. I bring my hand up to Allen’s and I hold him there. Needing that connection with him.
“It wouldn’t have mattered. I still would have been there,” I tell him, my voice strained by all of the emotions I’m feeling. It doesn’t make sense I feel this deeply for someone—especially so quickly, but I do. I’m not about to hide from it. It’s too important.
Allen’s too important.
“You didn’t know me back then, Jessie. I wasn’t a good person.”
“I can’t believe that.”
“Then you’re being naïve.”
“I’m not.”
“Let’s not talk about this right now, Jessie.”
“But I want to.”
“I’m only in St. Augustine for a limited time. I’d rather not ruin our time together talking about my past.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I’m here for another week, but… My life is in Miami.”
“So I only have a week with you?”
“Jessie—”
“I should warn you of something, Allen.”
His face changes and he tilts his head to study me.
“What’s that?”
“I’m going to do my best to make you want to stay with me.”
“You won’t have to try very hard, Mouse,” he says quietly and he reaches down, bringing our lips together in a kiss that is definitely sweet but tinged with sadness too.
A kiss that tells me I have my work cut out for me if I’m going to reach Allen like I want to.
11
Allen
I wish I knew what in the hell I’m doing. Last night I made out with Jessie during a carriage ride by the ocean. Then, I took her home and made out on with her on her sofa. I should walk away because of everything she makes me feel, but here I am, less than twenty-four hours later for our third… date.
The third time this week I’ve been at Jessie’s house. The third night we’ve shared dinner and the third night I’ve sat on her sofa, watching a movie, listening to her talk, watching the way her face animates as she discusses her day. The third night I wish I could take her home, and make her mine.
The third and last day.
Last night when I got in, Ana delivered the bad news. Roman has to go back to Miami tomorrow, which means I’m going back. Miami is not a world away from St. Augustine, but it’s far enough that there’s no way I’ll be on Jessie’s sofa tomorrow night. There’s no way I’ll be able to soak in her presence and feel her goodness wash over me.
“Allen are you okay? You are being really quiet tonight,” Jessie asks, carefully. Her voice is gentle, her face is soft and when I look down at her I realize there’s not one thing I don’t like about her.
Not one.