years. She’d read them all so many times she knew them by heart. But a few months back, she’d made herself stop. The pain of those concrete reminders was too much. “No.” Her voice wobbled.
He looked at her hard, and something changed in his expression. The chair creaked as he got up and took the letter back. She thought she detected a slight hesitation, but she had to be mistaken. If there was one thing Jared Worth was not, it was indecisive.
“ ‘Jared,’ ” he began to read, and Jenny tried to block out the words, but couldn’t. “ ‘If you’re ever in my neck of the woods, our door is always open. I mean it, man. Jen-Jen and I would love to have you.’ ”
Jen-Jen. Her vision blurred. “Steven invited you.”
“Yes,” Jared said in a low voice, refolding the letter and putting it back in his duffel bag.
It was as if all the air had left the room . . . left her lungs. “Why . . . Why now?” She swallowed hard, rushed through what she needed to say. “If you’ve had that letter all along, why did you stay at Mrs. Murphy’s in the first place?”
His expression was unreadable as he stared at her. “I didn’t think I’d be sticking around.”
She felt a shiver go through her. The man was ruthless. Determined. He’d do anything to get his way. Even stay in a house where he clearly wasn’t wanted.
Every part of her screamed to throw him out, and if she couldn’t, then call the cops or her brother. Front page news and lecture be damned. But she knew she wouldn’t.
How did you fight the wishes of the man you still loved?
“There’s a spare room upstairs. Third door on the right. You can stay in there.” And then she couldn’t say anything more.
Jared heard her bedroom door close.
“Son of a bitch.” He got out of the chair and began to pace. The room was spacious with its soaring ceilings and exposed wooden beams, but even so, he felt caged in, trapped. Everywhere he looked, there were reminders of the people who had either lived in this house or had been loved by them. Dozens of pictures vied for space on the thick wooden mantel. Older black-and-white pictures in tarnished silver frames intermingled with newer color snapshots. On the far wall there was everything from wedding photos to baby pictures to graduation portraits.
Jared stared at them, easily identifying Jenny. Even as a kid playing on the beach or climbing a tree or riding a bike, she had the same big smile and bright blue eyes. In several pictures she was with an older woman who Jared guessed to be her grandmother. He was struck by how happy Jenny looked. It was a side of her he hadn’t seen.
He paused at her graduation photo. Even then she’d been a knockout.
Near her senior photo were two others in identical frames. From the resemblance, Jared could only assume they were her brother and sister. Lovie Murphy had made sure he knew as much as she did about the Beckinsale family.
Jared thought about his own graduation. There’d been no photos, no memories, no celebration, which had been just fine with him. School had been a means to an end, nothing more. He could have dropped out—most of the kids in the system had. No one gave a shit. Oh, they acted like they did, said all the right things, but in the end it boiled down to too many unwanted kids and too few social workers. Looking back, he often wondered why he hadn’t just given up like so many of the others. But even back then, he’d wanted more. A different life. A better life. Where the only person you relied on was yourself, not some damn handout from the state.
With a curse, he turned away from the pictures.
Who was he kidding? He couldn’t stay in this house. Once, when he’d been a kid, he would have done anything for a place like this. A family that had roots that went deep and held firm even through the tough times. But not now. Now, all he wanted was to get his money and get out.
Draining the last of his beer, he headed into the kitchen, intent on throwing the bottle away when he saw Jenny’s wallet on the floor, along with a plastic container full of food. He picked them both up, putting the food in the fridge. For no reason he