Elevating Eve (Fairford Affairs #4)

19. Jonathan

CHAPTER 19

Jonathan

T he five days after Eve walked out of his life dragged by, minutes seeming to last hours. He spent most of the time in bed, drifting in that space between sleep and awake, barely eating, too hollow to go to work. It felt as if a mild breeze could blow him away if he dared set foot outside his home.

It wasn’t until day four that Aiden showed up unannounced in his bedroom. “Enough moping,” he said, dragging Jonathan out of bed and into the bathroom.

Even if he wanted to fight, Jonathan didn’t have the strength for it. He simply sat on the tiled floor of his shower where Aiden left him, leaning back against the wall as water ran over him. “Please go away,” he said, closing his eyes.

“Do you love her?” Aiden demanded, not going anywhere.

“It doesn’t matter.” He sounded utterly defeated. “Just leave me alone. You have no idea what I’m going through right now.”

Aiden scoffed. “I’ve been here before. Exactly where you are right now. And a very wise man asked me what I just asked you. So fucking answer me, Jonathan. Do you love her?”

“Of course I do,” Jonathan snapped, glaring up at his friend through the stream of water .

“Then what the fuck are you doing, man.” He reached into the shower, offering Jonathan a hand up. “Get off your ass and go fix whatever mess you made.”

Staring at his friend’s hand without taking it, Jonathan said, “It’s too late for that. She ended it.” After a moment, he sighed. “And I deserved it.”

“It’s only too late if you’re not willing to change,” Aiden said, the water soaking his sleeve as he kept his arm extended. “Go find her. Tell her you know you fucked up, and instead of giving up, start figuring out how to communicate with each other. It’s not going to be easy. You’ll need to be completely honest with each other. Vulnerable, even, which I know you fucking hate. But if you don’t—if you go through the rest of your life expecting everyone to do as you say, never budging an inch...” Sighing, he leaned a little more into the shower, submerging his whole arm in the spray. “It’s going to be really fucking lonely, Jonathan. And I don’t want that for you.”

Communication and honesty.

The words echoed inside his head in his dad’s voice. Mere hours before Orson had a heart attack, Jonathan asked him for advice on how to have a real, successful relationship. He’d thought the answer was ridiculously simplistic then. But now...

Now he realized how wise his father’s advice had been.

Placing his hand in Aiden’s, he let his friend pull him to his feet.

Jonathan sat on the wooden bench outside the Fairford Inn three days later. Showered, shaved, and dressed in his favorite suit, he fiddled with his hair, wanting it to be perfect. Everything needed to be perfect.

When at last he decided he couldn’t stall anymore, he dug his phone out of his pocket and pulled up his text thread with Eve. “Please say you didn’t block me,” he murmured as he typed out a whole paragraph of text and hit send, holding his breath until the tiny Delivered appeared beneath his message.

Thank fuck. If she’d blocked him, he wasn’t sure what his next move would be. Send a letter to the hotel, maybe, and hope she received it.

Two full minutes passed before Delivered changed to Read 11:22AM . His heart pounded as the seconds ticked by, and he nearly shouted in excitement when three dots appeared, indicating that she was typing out a reply.

His elation didn’t last for long. The dots disappeared, reappeared ten seconds later, and then quickly disappeared again. They didn’t come back this time.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he should’ve included more information. He should’ve explained everything in the first text. Of course that vague-ass message didn’t work.

Before his panic could spiral out of control, he forced himself to close his eyes and focus on his breathing. The message wasn’t a mistake, and he knew it.

Though it didn’t give the best odds for the result he wanted, it did give Eve the ability to decide if she wanted to give him another chance without being guilted or manipulated into it. After talking it over with Aiden the last two days, he knew that was the most important thing of all. He owed her that.

Even if it broke his fucking heart.

His gaze stayed glued to the phone screen as time marched on relentlessly. Ten minutes passed. Then twenty.

He was preparing to stand when the clock switched over to 11:49. It was over. He’d done all he had any right to do.

That’s when the three dots reappeared.

Today 11:20 AM

I want to talk. But if you don’t feel the same way, I understand, and I’ll respect your decision. I’m sitting outside your hotel and will wait here for half an hour unless you ask me to leave. If you don’t come down, I promise I won’t pursue the conversation again. But I’ll always be ready to talk if you ever change your mind. No matter how long it takes

Read 11:22AM

I’ll be right down

For several seconds, he couldn’t breathe. It worked. It actually fucking worked.

He stood just as Eve stepped out onto the sidewalk. Eyes wary, she watched him as she slowly approached. “What do you want to talk about?” she asked.

“Will you walk down to the coffee shop with me?” he asked, trying to make it clear with his tone that no was a perfectly acceptable answer.

“I guess so,” she said with a little shrug, falling in beside him as he started down Main Street.

Jonathan longed to reach over and touch her. The urge burned through him like wildfire, setting his nerve endings aflame. To be so close and not feel her smooth skin against his...it was a whole new kind of torture.

He shoved his hands in his pockets.

Nothing could keep him from glancing over at her, though. She looked even paler than usual, and he fucking hated it. The vibrant red streaks in her hair had also started to wash out since last he saw her, the resulting color more of a dull orange. It didn’t match her spirit in the least. “How have you been?” he asked when she noticed him staring.

Giving him an incredulous look, she said, “Not super awesome. You? ”

Yeah, that had been a dumbass question. “Same.”

They reached the coffee shop before either of them could think of anything more to say. The words Bean There, Drank That were emblazoned across the glass door in a blocky font. A little anthropomorphic coffee bean holding a steaming mug smiled at them from above the shop’s name.

Eve eyed the door with the hint of a smile as she pushed it open. “Isn’t a coffee bean drinking coffee cannibalism?”

He snorted before he could stop himself. “I would think so.” Following her inside, he said, “Why don’t you find us a table while I get the drinks.”

“I’d rather get my own drink if that’s okay.” It wasn’t a challenge. Just a simple statement of preference.

Resisting the urge to insist he pay for her coffee, he swept an arm toward the counter, letting her go first. He stood behind her, not saying a word as she ordered a medium salted caramel latte to go and paid for her drink. With no choice but to follow her lead, he ordered his iced coffee to go, as well.

A couple of minutes later, they sat at a small, round table by the front windows of the little shop, their untouched drinks sitting between them. Eve watched him with a guarded expression, clearly waiting for him to speak first.

He opened his mouth with every intention of pouring his heart out to her. “I heard through the grapevine that Frank took a plea deal,” came out instead, and he resisted the urge to cringe.

Eve arched her eyebrows, but chose not to call him out on his crap. “A five thousand dollar fine,” she said with a disappointed shrug. “They gave him the maximum fine, but no jail time since it was technically his first offense.”

“That’s bullshit,” Jonathan said, even though he already knew these details. Zach had told him earlier that morning. Apparently he and Eve still texted every day.

With another, smaller shrug, she said, “Yeah, I’m not thrilled. But at least that guilty plea will be on his record from now on. I’ll have to console myself with that.” She peered at him over the lid of her cup as she took a sip. “But I don’t think that’s why you’re here. ”

Okay, enough stalling. “You’re right, it’s not.” Gathering up his shaky courage, he launched into the apology he so carefully prepared the last few days. “First of all, I want you to know that I heard everything you said, and I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting. I know now that it was a trauma response to my dad passing, which amplified my naturally controlling tendencies. It was an incredibly unhealthy way to act, and I?—”

“Okay, therapist Jonathan, calm down,” she interrupted, voice caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief. “If we’re going to talk, we’re going to really talk. None of this prepared speech crap.”

He gaped at her for a few seconds, then huffed out a small laugh. “Fair enough.” Maybe he had gone a little overboard with the therapy speech. “I’ve been talking to Nell about what happened. She’s in the graduate counseling program at the University of Vermont.”

The amusement won, and she cracked a smile. “And the world makes sense again.”

“She also helped me research grief counselors,” he added, needing her to know this part. “I have my first appointment next Monday.”

Her smile turned wobbly, and her eyes softened for the first time since she walked out the inn door. “That’s great, Jonathan,” she said, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “I’m really proud of you.”

“Did you have any therapy after your dad died?” he asked, curious.

With a little sigh, she shook her head. “I wish. I probably would’ve done a lot of things differently if I had.”

His heart ached at the regret in her voice. “You’re only thirty-five,” he said, flipping his hand around so he could thread his fingers through hers. “You’ve got the rest of your life to do things differently.”

She squeezed his hand again and didn’t pull away. Taking that as a positive sign, he moved on to the next part of his plan. “I have something I want to give you, if you’ll let me,” he said. “Without agenda or ulterior motive.”

“Sounds ominous,” she joked, a small smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “Or like something out of that scene in Love Actually where the guy holds up all the signs for Kiera Knightly.”

Chuckling, he said, “Nothing ominous. Though I guess it’s kind of like that second one. ”

“He didn’t get the girl,” Eve reminded him. “Kiera stayed with the other guy.”

“And if you don’t want to get back together with me, that’s okay,” he assured her. “I mean it—I’m not doing this to get you back. I’m doing it because I love you, and it’s the right thing to do, no matter what.”

Eve drew in a sharp breath when he said he loved her. Her eyes searched his—for what, he didn’t know.

“I also said that without hope or agenda,” he said, hoping he got the wording from the Love Actually scene right. Olivia made them all watch that movie at their Christmas party for the last three years. Though he’d never admit it to her, he’d started to look forward to it almost as much as It’s a Wonderful Life .

For a second, it looked like she would say something. But then she pressed her lips together, like she wanted to keep the words trapped inside. Eyes glistening with unshed tears, she finally pulled her hand out from under his and motioned for him to continue.

Slipping a hand into the inside pocket of his jacket, he pinched the small object there between forefinger and thumb. The pocket’s silk lining brushed against his skin like water as he withdrew his hand. Not saying a word, he placed the surprise on the table between them.

She stared at the new ring, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“I found your emerald, and I took it to a jeweler I know. I told him what you do for work, and he said even after what happened with your dad’s ring, a bezel setting is still best.” Platinum surrounded the stone on all four sides, holding the emerald securely in place. “The prongs in a more traditional solitaire setting could easily get caught and pry away while you’re working, and the last thing I wanted was for you to lose the stone again. As long as you have a jeweler look at it every now and then, they can fix the setting if it starts to wear away.”

“Jonathan...” Whatever it was she wanted to say, she couldn’t seem to find the words. Her gaze stayed glued to the ring on the table.

“He asked me about a thousand questions about you, your personality, your style—everything. Since you hate the only piece of jewelry I’ve seen you wear, we had to do a lot of guess work on the design.”

He’d almost called off the idea right there in the shop, afraid he’d make the already disastrous situation even worse. But the idea of her putting the stone back in the clunky yellow gold ring made it worth the chance. He couldn’t let her keep suffering like that.

When she still didn’t say anything, he plowed forward, his nerves forcing him to fill the silence. “If you don’t love it, the jeweler I used is happy to work with you to make a new design. His name is Theo, and he’s easy to work with. I think you’d really like him.”

Still nothing out of her, and he was starting to fear he’d fucked up extra big this time.

“Or I can have Theo take the stone out and give it to you. You can put it back in the old ring or whatever you want.” He was fucking babbling now, and he knew it. But the words wouldn’t stop coming. “If I overstepped here, I’m really sorry. I know how much I fucked up locking you out of that room, and I didn’t want you to have to wait any more to get it back. I probably should’ve given you the stone as soon as I found it, but I wanted you to have a ring that made you happy every time you saw it, instead of one that made you sad. You can?—”

“Where was it?” she asked, finally looking up at him.

Oh, thank fuck. He had no idea what had been about to come out of his mouth, but he felt certain it would’ve haunted him for the rest of his days. “The emerald?” At her nod, he told her, “Under a tile by the tub. I had Theo take all the mortar off. I didn’t want to damage the stone.”

“But how—” Her voice caught in her throat, and she took a long sip of her coffee as she composed herself. “How did you find it? I don’t understand how this is happening right now.”

“Lainey showed me how to remove tile. She even loaned me all the safety gear I needed.” He shrugged. “Once I got the hang of it, it was just a matter of finding the right tile.” Every muscle in his body had ached by the time he caught a glint of green sticking out of dried mortar. His hamstrings and shoulders still fucking hurt, two days later.

She stared at him with wide eyes, her lips forming a small O.

“What?” he asked, trying not to show how much her reaction was starting to freak him out. This wasn’t going at all how he’d imagined it in his head—not the perfect scenario where she threw herself into his arms, nor the one where she cursed him out again and disappeared from his life forever.

Still looking thunderstruck, Eve finally managed to say, “You ripped up the bathroom on your own?”

Finally understanding, he had no choice but to look indignant. “I’ll have you know, I’m perfectly capable of doing that stuff.”

She hid a smile. Very poorly. “That stuff?”

“You know.” He waved a hand vaguely, as if that somehow explained everything. “All that Mr. Fix-it, HGTV crap.”

“Mr. Fix-it, HGTV crap,” she repeated, no longer trying to hide her amusement. “Out of curiosity, before you removed those tiles, when’s the last time you held a hammer?”

Jonathan made a show of straightening his tie, belatedly realizing that probably did nothing to help his case. “That’s completely irrelevant.”

Laughing, she shoved her chair back, hurrying around the table to fling her arms around his neck. “Thank you,” she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. “For understanding, for finding it, for the ring—all of it. Thank you so much.”

Don’t kiss her. Don’t touch her. Don’t fucking do anything to ruin this. The warning flashed red in his mind, and yet he couldn’t help breathing deeply as her sweet lavender scent surrounded him. It felt like gripping a tiger’s tail. As long as his tenuous control lasted, he’d be fine.

As soon as it slipped, he was well and truly fucked.

“So, you like the new ring?” he asked, trying to distract them both before the tiger broke free. “Veritas?”

In answer, Eve planted her hands on his shoulders, pushing away just enough so she could look him in the eye. “I love it. I love how much thought you put into it. I love that you found my emerald yourself instead of paying someone else to do it.” Plopping down onto his lap, she moved her hands up to cup his face. “I love that you took the time to understand why I was so upset at you, and you’re genuinely trying to do things differently now. I love that you talked to Nell and made an appointment with a grief counselor.”

Picking up the ring, he slid the delicate platinum band onto the ring finger of her right hand. The light pouring through the coffee shop windows illuminated the emerald, making it look almost magical. The small diamond accents on either side of the large stone shimmered. “That’s a lot of love.”

“Yes, it is.” Leaning forward, she pressed a soft kiss against his lips. “I love that you love me.” Another kiss, lasting a little longer this time. “But more than anything, I love you , Jonathan. The last week has been complete fucking torture without you.”

They both leaned forward at the same time, their mouths colliding with just enough force to hurt. In seconds, they became a tangle of lips and tongues and hands, holding onto each other for dear life as lust and relief crashed over them, combining to make him feel almost lightheaded.

Her tiny whimpers made him regret the choice of Bean There, Drank That for their reunion. If they had just stayed down the street, they could be up to her second-floor room at the inn in under a minute.

The barista coughed loudly, breaking the spell that had temporarily consumed them. “Sorry,” Jonathan said, setting Eve on her feet as he stood. Her flushed skin and swollen lips almost dragged him right back under her spell, damn the consequences. But he forced himself to throw a twenty on the table for the poor kid’s trouble, and the two practically ran outside, both laughing as soon as the door closed behind them.

“Oh my God, did you see her face?” Eve said, leaning her forehead against his chest as she continued to laugh. “I bet we’re permanently banned. They’re gonna put our pictures up behind the register and everything.”

Jonathan couldn’t have kept the grin off his face if his life depended on it. “Worth it,” he said, slipping his fingers into her silky hair. He pulled her back so he could look into her eyes as he said this next part. “I know I fucked up, and I’m so sorry. But I’m sure it won’t be the last time. I’m going to fuck up again. It’s inevitable.”

“So will I,” she said, eyes full of warmth. “We’re only human.”

“Exactly.” He pressed soft kisses against her forehead, the tip of her nose, and finally her lips. Christ, he loved kissing her. He loved it so fucking much. “As long as we’re honest with each other, and we’re both willing to talk about it whenever there’s a problem, we’ll get through it.”

One corner of her lips tilted up. “No more control freak stuff? ”

He grinned. “I’m not going to make promises I can’t keep,” he said, laughing when she groaned dramatically. “Christ, can you imagine how crazy I’ll be if you ever get pregnant?”

Her breath came out in a little gasp. “Pregnant?”

“You said you always pictured yourself as a mom.” He thumbed her lower lip. “And I saw how much you loved playing with my niece and nephews. If that’s something you still want?—”

“Of course I do.” The words came out of her in a rush as wonder filled her eyes. “But do you want to be a dad? Veritas?”

He grinned as her excitement washed over him. “It’s not something I really considered before, to be honest. I never thought I’d be in a real relationship, so I assumed it just wasn’t in the cards for me. But having a baby with you? Abso-fucking-lutely I want that.”

Laughing, she flung her arms around his neck. “God, you make a good point though. You’re going to be a horrifying control monster if I’m carrying your child.”

“Probably,” he admitted. “At least at first. But I promise to try not to, and I’ll always keep trying until I get this right. I love you, Evie. I’d do anything in the world for you.”

Her smile was absolutely fucking radiant. “I love you, too.”

“As long as that part stays true, we’ll be able to figure the rest out.”

They’d do it together.