Straight Up Love (The Boys of Jackson Harbor Book 2)

Sundays are for Jackson family brunch. Every Sunday we all prioritize brunch because we know it’s a chance to remember that no matter how good or bad the week before may have been to us, at the end of it all, we have each other, and family is what matters most.

With rare exception, we gather at Brayden’s house—or what is now Brayden’s. This was the house we all grew up in, but Brayden moved in here after Mom moved out to help Ethan with Lilly. Nobody was ready to sell the place, and having Brayden here makes sense, even if the house is way bigger than what a workaholic bachelor needs.

Every time I walk in the door, I’m wrapped in the warmth of sweet nostalgia. I had a good childhood. The best. And even though Brayden has remodeled a bit and replaced some of Mom’s old furniture with more contemporary pieces, I’m always taken back by the house’s smell—the pine cleaner Mom favors and Brayden uses to this day, the lavender from the front garden wafting in through the open windows.

Today, though, I walk in the door, and nostalgia is met with a rush of love when I see Dad out of the corner of my eye. For a beat, right before I turn, before I can even take a breath, I think my father is really there. Just for a second, I can anticipate the warmth of his smile and the feel of his hand as he gives the back of my neck a reassuring squeeze.

Even as I turn, I realize it’s Brayden, not Dad, who’s standing in the living room. My eldest brother is as tall as Dad was, and has the same dark hair and broad shoulders, but while he resembles my father, he could never pass for him. It’s just my mind playing tricks on me. Again.

This happens every once in a while. I think I see my father and forget that’s not possible, that he’s been gone for years. The moments pass as quickly as they come, but the ache in my chest isn’t as easy to shake off.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Brayden says.

I exhale heavily. “I saw you out of the corner of my eye, and you looked like Dad.”

He doesn’t mock me; instead, he nods in understanding. My brothers and I jab at each other about anything and everything else, but never about this. Never about the grief of losing our father, or the heartache of watching our mother take her turn fighting the same battle. “I did that the other day with Ethan,” he says. “I was at the bar and I saw him from behind. I was two steps in his direction ready to say hi to Dad before I remembered that wasn’t possible.”

“I thought it’d be better by now,” I say.

Brayden nods. “It is a little bit. Used to happen to me more often, but it’s less common these days.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Now it’s usually only when I’m feeling particularly anxious about something and have been thinking about how much I wish I could bounce an idea off him.” He studies me. “Which would explain why you did it just now.”

I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I heard you had an interesting night Friday.” I don’t know what he means, and when I don’t respond, he adds, “With Ava.”

“Who told you that?” I swear, you can’t stand sideways to take a piss in this town without everyone running their mouths about it.

Brayden nods toward the kitchen. “Our brothers are in there getting a real kick out of your luck.” He smacks me between the shoulder blades, just like Dad used to do. “You might finally get your wish with Ava after all.”

I don’t know what they all think they know, but I do know I’m not in the mood to have my brothers laugh at my expense.

I push past Brayden and into the kitchen, which is packed with my siblings, Ethan’s girlfriend, Nic, and my niece. Sure enough, Carter and Levi laugh when they see me. Even Ethan smirks.

“Big night for you Friday, huh, Daddy?” Levi asks on a chuckle. “You could have told me the whole story when I saw you at the gym yesterday.”

“They’re being jerks,” Nic growls at my side. She’s as sweet as she is beautiful, and when I turn to her, she’s worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as if this is all somehow her fault.

“What the fuck are they talking about?”

“I told Ethan that Ava was going to ask you for . . . you know, your sperm. I thought that was what she was doing when she left us Friday, and then you two disappeared up into your apartment.” She shoots a scowl in Ethan’s direction. “I promise I wouldn’t have said anything if I knew he was going to tell your brothers.”

Ethan bites back a smile. “How was I supposed to keep that to myself? We should all be celebrating. Jake and Ava, finally together.”

My gut clenches. “Except we’re not together.”

The smiles fall off my brothers’ faces. I feel like a fool. I know that my feelings for my best friend aren’t a secret among my family members, but my brothers have always done me the courtesy of not speaking of it unless absolutely necessary. Having them in here talking about my relationship—or lack thereof—with Ava makes me feel exposed, and I fucking hate it. “Not even a little.”

“What were you doing up there?” Nic asks softly.

“She told me she was having a baby.” I speak quietly so only Nic can hear, but everyone else is loudly speculating about the future of “Jayva,” as Shay calls Ava and me. I’m already weary of this conversation and not in the mood to explain myself to everyone. “When she said she wanted my help, I thought she was saying that she was pregnant and wanted me to help her as a new mom—not with making her into one.”

Nic shoots Ethan another dirty look. “It’s not what you guys think,” she snaps. “Now stop.”

“Jake’s a big boy,” Levi says. “He doesn’t need you protecting him, Nic.” He grabs a spoon and piles hash brown casserole on his plate.

Shay sits quietly in the corner, sipping her coffee and watching me, making her and Brayden the only two of my five siblings not laughing at me. I make a mental note to get them both extra-nice gifts next Christmas.

We fill our plates and head to the dining room. I can’t help but watch Nic with Lilly, my six-year-old niece. They’re all smiles when they’re together, and as much as I’m sure that Ethan and Nic were meant to be together, the real soul mates here are Nic and Lilly.

Longing unravels old dreams from where they’re coiled in my chest. I can’t deny I had a bit of a crush on Nic when she first came to town. She’s gorgeous and fits into our family as if she’s always been a part of it. I think each of the Jackson boys had a thing for her, though Levi was the most vocal about it until Ethan put a stop to it. But it’s not any specific feelings for Nic that have this tugging in my chest. I want what they have.

I’m gonna have to beat Ethan’s ass if he doesn’t put a ring on that finger soon, but I’m pretty sure I won’t have to. Ethan’s smart enough to know what he’s got. He almost lost her once. He won’t let that happen again.

I pull out a chair at the table, and Shay takes the seat beside me. She’s actually eating today, which is a rare sight, though her plate of wheat toast and scrambled eggs has nothing on the thousand-plus-calorie breakfasts my brothers and I are about to inhale. Ever since Shay lost the weight she put on in undergrad, she’s been very careful about her diet.

“Where’s Mom?” I ask, looking around. The table is crowded with us six Jackson siblings, Nic, and my niece, but crowded around it as we are, the sight of Mom’s unoccupied chair makes it feel empty. I spoke with her on the phone last night when I called to congratulate her on finishing the last of this round of treatments, but I was looking forward to seeing her today.

“She’s napping upstairs,” Brayden says. “She’s having a rough day.”

Shit. Poor Mom.

“Poor Nana,” Lilly says, her small face pulling into a frown. “She feels pukey.”

“Why didn’t she stay home?” I ask.

“You know Mom,” Shay says. “Doesn’t want to miss Sunday brunch, even if she can’t stomach the smell of it.”

I nod. I do know, and there’s a sharp pang in my chest at the thought of her having to miss every Sunday brunch if this cancer gets the better of her. I fucking hate feeling this helpless. I want to fix it. To find a way to fight it for her so she doesn’t have to.

“Sorry I wasn’t there Friday,” Shay says quietly. “Maybe I could have shut Teagan up before she told drunk Ava to ask for your sperm.”

“So I have Teagan to thank for this?”

Shay pushes her eggs around her plate. “That’s what Nic said.”

I shrug. “It’s not a big deal. She woke up sober and knew it was a bad idea.”

She nods. “But is it a bad idea?”

I arch a brow. “Letting her have my kid without me? Yeah, sounds like a pretty fucked-up plan.”

“Hmm.” She scoops some eggs onto her fork and studies them. “Last I checked, Ava doesn’t do much of anything without you, Jake.” She chews and swallows her bite before turning her attention to Lilly, who’s chattering on about something that happened in school last week.

I’m too distracted by my own thoughts to listen. I know Ava well enough to know that if she’s made up her mind about starting a family on her own, she’s going to do it. Ellie’s dates might slow her down, but unless Ava actually meets someone she can fall for, this summer will begin Operation Pregnancy, as she calls it.

Either she falls in love with someone else or has a baby on her own.

I don’t know which option freaks me out more. But it’s out of my hands. I just need to remember to keep our friendship the priority. Ava knows how I feel about her. I put it all out there almost five years ago. I’m just lucky I didn’t lose her then.

Jake

Five years ago . . .

I rap on the door to Ava’s apartment three times and hold my breath as I wait for the sound of her steps coming toward the door. I’m going to do it. I’m going to tell my best friend how I feel about her.

The weather is a match for my mood—dark gray clouds, hard wind, and a storm that lights up the sky and rumbles through town.

I’ve been trying to find my courage for six months, but after my brother told me that her boyfriend Harrison had her in tears again last night, I’m determined to say something. I’m sick of Harrison taking her for granted and making her feel like shit every time something better comes up and he cancels their plans. I’m sick of him finding ways to push me out of her life. And I’m sick of pretending that I don’t die a little inside every day I have to watch her fall madly in love with someone else.

I’m going to do this, and I’m going to do it now.

When the door swings open and she smiles at me, I shove my hands into my pockets.

“Jake! What are you doing here?” she asks as she steps back to let me in.

As soon as I’m in the door, I relax. This is one of my favorite places to be. Ava has made the apartment her own. She has artificial flowers in vases on her counter, stacks of books on her shelves, and cozy furniture with throw pillows and fuzzy blankets. It’s different than the apartments of other people our age, and to me it feels like home. But maybe that’s just because she lives here.

“Is everything okay?” She grins even as she asks.

Last night’s tears are gone, replaced with a good mood that radiates off her. She’s back to cheerful Ava in an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of soft jeans. Her dark hair is down but mussed in the back, and there’s a romance novel laid open on the arm of the couch. I must have interrupted her while she was reading.

Everything in my chest is coiled into one tight ball. I’m terrified, a fucking coward. Ava’s been my best friend since we were ten, and I’m an idiot because, until she started dating Harrison, I never realized my feelings for her extended beyond friendship. She came home from her first date with him all rosy-cheeked and giddy. “I think he could be the one, Jake.”

Jealousy hit me so hard and fast that I felt like I’d been knocked over.

I tried denying my feelings. Tried waiting them out. Tried dating every beautiful woman within a fifty-mile radius of Jackson Harbor. Nothing worked. Every day, I accepted more and more that my feelings for Ava weren’t going anywhere. And every day she fell harder for the asshole junior lawyer her father set her up with.

“Can we talk?” I ask in a croak.

“Of course.” She shuts the door. “I actually needed to talk to you too. I’m glad you came over.”

“Can I go first?” I have to get this off my chest before I turn into the chicken shit I’ve been for months.

“Sure.” She shrugs and attempts another smile, but now concern is etched into the lines between her brows. My nerves must be obvious. Her brown eyes go soft when they look at me—reminding me that Ava and I have been together in our own way far longer than she and Harrison. The thought gives me the last bit of courage I need.

I open my mouth to speak, but the speech I mentally recited in the car has fled. I don’t want to fumble over the words I need to say. I don’t want to risk her misunderstanding for even a second what I’m here to tell her.

Between one heartbeat and the next, I change my plan. I step toward her, and before she can react, I cup her face in my hands and lower my mouth to hers. I breathe in her scent of flowers. I memorize the heat of the skin at the back of her neck. I take the kiss I’ve imagined for longer than I can remember.

She gasps under me. Her whole body stiffens then relaxes, and for a beat—the sweetest fucking beat in the history of time—she kisses me back. Her hands fist into my shirt, and her lips part. Fuck yes.

The moment is gone as quickly as it came. She releases my shirt and pushes me away. “Jake, stop. What are you doing?”

I search her eyes and see panic and confusion there. “I’m in love with you,” I say. Now, with the taste of her on my lips, the words are easier to find. “I’m in love with you, and I want to be with you.”

She swallows and shakes her head. Her brow creases and her lips part and close again and again, as if she’s speaking but has been muted. “I’m with Harrison,” she finally manages.

“He made you cry last night.” My whole body stiffens. She should be with someone who makes her smile and laugh. Not someone who makes her feel insecure and sad.

“What? Who told you that?”

“Levi saw you two out at Jordan’s Inn. You deserve better than someone who hurts you, Ava. Let me be the better that you deserve.”

She shakes her head again. “Harrison didn’t hurt me. I wasn’t sad. I was happy.” She waits, as if giving me a moment to make sense of that. “He asked me to marry him.”

For a beat, I think she’s lying, concocting an outrageous story to explain away the behavior of a man who’s never been worthy of her.

But then I see the truth on her face and I feel like I disappear. I hear the cars on the street outside the apartment, the stereo playing in the apartment next door. I hold my breath—daring to hope she declined his proposal—but I already know. Even before she pulls up the too-long sleeve of her sweatshirt to show me her sparkling diamond, I already know she said yes.

I stare at the ring. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes. I love Harrison.” She folds her arms over her chest. “Jake?”

I tear my gaze off the ring to meet her eyes.

“I care about you very much. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to lose you.”

The words are an icepick to my heart. I don’t want to lose her either. But I think I already have. “Don’t do it. Don’t marry him. I can’t do this anymore if you marry him.”

“Do what?” She tilts her head to the side and studies me. “What are you saying?”

“Ava, I want more. I tried to let this be enough, but . . . I can’t anymore.”

“Why are you doing this?” She shakes her head, and a lock of hair falls across one eye. I want to sweep it away. I want to pull her into my chest and beg her to listen to my heart. “You’re not . . .” She lifts her chin and studies the ceiling for a beat before leveling me with her hard gaze. “I know you hate Harrison, but this is too far.”

I step back—one step, then another—the sweet taste of her mouth still on my lips. “You don’t feel this at all?”

“I’m sorry. You’re my best friend.”

Those words hurt. Fuck. “I need to go.” My gaze snags on her ring again.

She’s really going to marry him.

And maybe if he were a more obvious asshole, a loser, or a cheat, I’d stand a chance at talking her out of it. But he’s a young lawyer, fresh out of law school, her father adores him, and he does something for her that I’ve never done.

I’m just Jake. The boy who grew up next door and put a snake in her bedroom when she was eight years old, the one she raced down the sledding hill with at ten, and mud-wrestled with at thirteen.

“We’re still good, right?” Panic curls the edges of her words.

“Why would I be good if you’re marrying him?”

“Because you’re my friend? Because you want me to be happy?”

“I’m in love with you.”

“No, you’re not,” she snaps. “We love each other because we’ve been friends forever. You’re not in love with me. I’m not even your type.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel.” Rage flares in my gut. I need her to hear me. To fucking believe me.

“You like busty blond girls who know the difference between Gucci and Versace.”

I can only shake my head. Busty blond girls. It’s true. I’ve gravitated toward women who are Ava’s polar opposite. If she gave it any thought at all, she’d know it’s because I was trying to get over her. Dating anyone too much like Ava made me compare them, whether I wanted to or not, and any woman I compared to Ava came up short.

“Don’t let my engagement freak you out,” she whispers. “Nothing has to change between us.”

“Don’t settle for someone who’s not worthy of you just because you’re scared your father will never love you.” I regret the words as soon as I say them, and more when she flinches as if I’ve slapped her, but I can’t take them back. And maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe she needs to know what I see when I look at her and Harrison.

“I want you to leave,” she says softly.

“Bye, Ava.” I reach around her to open the door and storm out into the rain, my body numb, my heart somewhere back in her apartment, shattered under her feet.