You Know I Need You (You Are Mine #4) - Willow Winters Page 0,33

my caffeine-free pumpkin spice coffee from off the small table. Apparently, Maddie’s tastes have rubbed off on me. Either that or the baby has ruined my taste buds and given me a temporary sweet tooth.

He chuckles as I take a large gulp then tell him, “I think we’re getting dinner at a little Italian place Jules loves. Or maybe heading to the new bar below the hotel a few blocks over.” I shrug and add, “She hasn’t decided yet, but it’s girls’ night, so we’re doing something.”

He lays his coat over the back of his chair as he stands. “I’m going to go with straight black coffee.”

“Oh?” I ask him. “Is it one of those days?”

“You tell me,” he responds and instantly my smile falls. It’s been a week since Henry died and each day is worse than “one of those days.” They blur together and time has flown by, but somehow, it’s only been a week.

“Give me a sec?” he asks me before leaving, as if he’s checking on my well-being, gripping the back of the chair. I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

My fingers play at the edge of my coffee cup. I wore lipstick today and the outline of my lips mars the white rim.

There’s a statistic I read once about how lipstick sales and alcohol sales both go up during depressions, while sales for everything else plummet.

The alcohol … well, you drink when you’re happy and you drink when you’re sad.

The lipstick is because in hard times, we just want to feel special, pretty. We want to feel like we’re worth it. As in, if we look pretty and put together, then maybe we can be.

I need to buy more lipstick, I think.

It only takes a moment of me checking my phone before he’s back with a brighter spirit and the robust smell of fresh black coffee joining him from the cup in his hand. “So, what’s going on?”

“Wow, that was fast,” I say to stall a moment longer.

“I’d rate them an A-plus for the service. I’ll have to admit that,” he answers with a pleasant smile.

I give him a soft one in return, but I can feel it breaking down as I try to formulate an answer to his question.

“Evan’s father died.” The truth rushes out and my expression crumples regardless of how hard I’m trying to keep it in place.

“Shit,” Jake murmurs beneath his breath as I desperately work to maintain my composure. “You all right?”

“I’m fine,” I answer in a choked voice, refusing to cry again. “I’m dealing with it. It’s not the first time I’ve lost a family member, but it still hurts.”

“What happened?”

“It was sudden. He had a blood clot that traveled to his lungs.” As I pick up a napkin from the table and blot under my eyes, I remember the doctor’s voice and how calmly he spoke. My lashes graze the napkin as I blink and it comes back black.

“I’m sorry; I’m such a mess,” I tell him, flipping the napkin to the other side and being careful not to smudge my makeup too much.

“Don’t be.” It’s only then that I realize how close he is. He’s so warm. “Evan,” I say, blurting out his name as my tired eyes feel heavy and the need to be held makes my body hot. My fingers itch to lay across Jake’s lap. “I tried to call him and got his voicemail.”

“About his father?” Jake asks, and I find myself leaning closer to him. Jake doesn’t let on that there’s any more tension between us than usual. The air between us has shifted. It’s something closer and vulnerable. Something I should be wary of, but I need it. God, I need it.

I nod once, twisting the little shreds of the napkin I’m destroying in my lap. “The doctor called me. I was my father-in-law’s emergency contact.” My throat tightens yet again and my words are choked, thinking about how I was listed as his daughter in Henry’s phone.

“And Evan?”

“He didn’t answer.”

Jake leans back, putting a bit of distance between us and seems to question whether or not he wants to respond. He takes a heavy breath as if he’s going to, but sips his coffee instead. I study his face as he stares straight ahead.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t even be talking about this. I just—”

“Stop saying you’re sorry, Kat.” Jake turns his head and gazes deep into my eyes as he tells me, “You have nothing to be sorry for, and I