Forever Moore (Moore Family Book 1) Read online

  Having him here and helping (though I hate to admit it) has been a blast. He hasn’t brought up “us” again. While I have noticed a few longing glances, there has been nothing physical between us. We have just been hanging out like two old friends. I so desperately want to let go of my reservations and give into this, give into us. But I am still terrified of all the “what if’s”.

  I am not one hundred-precent certain what happened between him and Scott. After I saw Jax, and then saw Scott’s matching face, I realized they must have gotten into some sort of fight. I have never known them to come to physical blows before, and I tried to ask Scott about it, but he blew me off… just like Jax had at the shop. Later, when talking with Letty, she mentioned them getting into a fight at the bar. She wasn’t sure about all the specifics, but she had overheard my name a bit and Scott calling Jax a coward. While I don’t have all the details, I don’t doubt that Jax being here at the shop is a result of that physical encounter between them.

  Still… While I have definitely noticed a difference in Jax’s behavior (he seems so determined to prove to me that this is what he wants) I can’t help but fear… what if he leaves and doesn’t come back again? What if he leaves and never contacts me? What if he leaves and I am too broken to move on? What if all of this joy is temporary, and after a while, he is bored with me? What if I don’t deserve this happiness? With all of these doubts and insecurities swimming in my brain, it is hard to even think straight.

  “Hey, Jax?” Looking up from his laptop, he raises an eyebrow and offers a questioning stare. A glimmer of hope twinkles in his eyes. “Would you mind watching the shop for a bit? I need to go over to Robbie’s?”

  “Sure thing,” he replies, lowering his gaze back down to the computer. “If you need me to close up, let me know.”

  “Okay, that would be great.” My chest tightens at the sight. I wish I could go back to last week and give into what he wants, what I want. But it just isn’t meant to be… The sooner we can both accept that, the better off we both are. Quickly I rush out of the shop, avoiding any more of the awkward exchange. Working with Jax all day and then hanging out with him at home—while it has been strictly platonic—it is hard to maintain my composure with him around me all of the time. I just need a break, and Robbie’s is the perfect opportunity to do so.

  ∞∞∞

  Robbie’s back office is nothing like mine. The bookshop is clean, well-organized, and feels homey with plants and pictures. Robbie’s is the exact opposite. It is bland and minimalistic. It isn’t messy—fortunately, he is a neat freak. But it has an old metal desk that is cold and rusty, and the chair is hard steel that conforms to your butt. I think it used to be an old tractor seat or something. The only artwork he has is the stereotypical garage pin-up magazine with half-naked chicks on it. But at least these ones are done tastefully in a 50’s retro style with awesome hotrods like our grandpa used to have.

  After a couple of hours of going through Robbie’s books and ensuring everything is in order for the month’s end, I look up when I hear a knock at the entryway.

  “How’s it looking, sis?” Robbie inquires, his large frame fills the doorway. He has his jumpsuit half off and tied around the waist, while his white undershirt is covered in grease and other automotive fluids.

  Cocking my head to the right, I raise an eyebrow at him. “Everything is great. With everyone coming in and getting their winter tires done, you should have enough profit to easily hire more help. Especially someone to manage your office full time.”

  Crossing his arms, Robbie jibes, “I am not interested, so drop it.”

  “Robbie, this is ridiculous. You need someone to help you manage all this back-office stuff full time. Especially, if you plan on opening another location,” I fume. The tension in my head builds to an ache, knowing that we are about to have this same argument again (for what seems like the hundredth time).

  “I don’t like the idea of some stranger coming in here messin’ with my business. Things are going smoothly. No point in fixin’ something that ain't broken,” Robbie replies, his tone as sharp as a razor blade.

  Narrowing my eyes, I stare at him. “Just because it isn’t broken, doesn’t mean that it is efficient,” I retort, knowing this argument is not going anywhere.

  Robbie’s shoulders lower, shrugging half-heartedly. “Look, I like everything how it is. I don’t want to change it. I am not even sure I want to open another shop. I can’t be in two places at once, and I don’t like the idea of leaving one shop unattended.”

  “Robbie,” I sigh, “you’ve got to learn to trust people. I can help you find someone. I still have contacts from school who I could reach out to. Friends of mine, people I know and trust.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Robbie pivots to walk away but hesitates. Turning back, he forms a slow smile across his grease-covered face. “I noticed that Jax is still around.”

  “Yea.” Robbie doesn’t want to talk about hiring someone, and I definitely do not want to talk about this.

  Robbie’s face softens as he enters the room and takes a seat on an old torn vinyl chair. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything, the accident, mom and dad, even Jax.”

  I nod in reply, afraid to speak, and knowing that I will not be able to stop the waterworks once they start.

  “You know Scott has told me about Jax taking vacation time to stay here, and how he has been helping around the shop. I’ve even taken a glance at the shop's Facebook and I’m impressed. I am considering having him come over here and help me a bit. I could use some extra business.”

  I snort in laughter. Robbie has business coming out of his ears. He can’t handle anymore without hiring help and expanding.

  “Ha, knew that one would get ya.”

  “Did he tell you about whatever fight they had?” I ask, curious if Scott confided in Robbie.

  He shrugs his shoulders. “Yea, he told me that he needed to beat some sense into that dumbass,” Robbie says (with no ill will towards Jax). The amusement I see in his expression makes me think if Scott hadn’t done it, he would have. Robbie ponders for a moment; his expression becomes more serious. “Scott also told me why Jax is still around. I know it isn’t really any of my business, but why are you pushing him away?”

  “Seriously, mister ‘all-work-no-play’ Robbie? You, the guy who has made no time or room for a relationship in your life, wonder why I am not risking everything for a chance with Jax? The guy, who had to have his ass kicked by my brother?” It is my turn to look sullen and cross my arms. Out of all of my brothers, Robbie is the last one I ever imagined who would pry into my love, or lack of love, life.

  “Scott did what was necessary. He loves Jax, but he was being a pussy and needed some sense beaten into him before he made a grave mistake. And I… well, I’ve never had anyone worth making that time for. You and Jax are different. I understand why you pushed him away before. He needed to go out and live that dream of his. But now, you are pushing him away for different reasons entirely. And unfortunately, I don’t think you are doing it in his, or your, best interest.”

  Defeated, I drop my shoulders and let the tears start to fall. “I can’t, Robbie.”

  “Can’t or won't?” Robbie challenges.

  “Both,” I admit in surrender, lowering my face into my hands as the tears begin to fall. Moments later, I feel Robbie’s warm comforting embrace behind me.

  “Talk to me, Tilly, please. Why are you denying yourself this?” I can hear the concern laced in Robbie’s tone.

  “I am terrified of all the ways this can go wrong, and I’m not sure I will be able to come back from that…” I pause, thinking about how much I want to share with Robbie. We have never really had many heart-to-hearts growing up. “It also feels wrong.”

  “Wrong? Because of that shit Jake said? I thought we already talked about how that was bullshit and Jake is a dumbass?”

  “No, it isn’t that. I know Jax isn’t my brother by blood or legally.�
� My parents only took guardianship of him. He was never formally adopted by our family. I take a deep breath, hoping that it will help loosen the tight knot in my chest. “It’s just… I can’t. He is only here because of mom and dad… and they are only gone because…” I struggle to get the words out. “It is all my fault, Robbie. How can I be with Jax knowing the only reason he is with me, is because… because I killed my parents?”

  “Fuck, seriously, Tilly?” Robbie squeezes me tighter. “Is this what has been going through your mind? Do you actually blame yourself for mom and dad?”

  I shrug, not wanting to say much more. My stomach twists and turns. I feel a giant lump in the back of my throat, causing it to burn—the emotional dam is about to break.

  “Tilly,” Robbie says. Taking my face into his hands, he forces me to look right into his amber eyes—eyes that match mine. “Listen to me, okay? Because I never want to repeat this conversation again. You are not responsible for the accident. Mom and dad are not dead because of anything you did. The only reason they are dead is because some fucknuts didn’t have enough common sense to call for a ride home. It is his fault he was drinking and driving, it was his fault he ran the red light, and it was his fault that mom and dad are dead and that you were injured. None of that, and I mean—None. Of. It. Is. Your. Fault. Do you understand me?”

  I try to catch my breath, now labored from crying so hard. Robbie’s face is nothing but a blur through my sticky eyelashes. I want to believe Robbie, but it hurts so much. “We only went to the convention because I didn’t want to go alone. We only left when we did because I—”

  “Stop. It. Tilly.” Robbie raises his voice, not in anger but in concern. “I don’t know much about fate, and you know I am not really religious, but there was nothing you could have done to prevent what happened. It could have happened here in town. We both know Jake has been called to enough tragic drunk driving scenes.” Robbie pulls me closer. I nuzzle into his chest, wiping my tears and snot on his stained shirt, which still reeks of gasoline. “Mom and dad would never want you to carry this burden. Fuck, mom probably would have slapped you upside the head for thinking like that. You need to let this guilt go, Tilly, and move on. It isn’t fair to you or Jax.”

  I sniffle, thinking about Robbie’s words for a moment. “Still, when he leaves—”

  “Come on. He is still here, Tilly.” I look up at Robbie. Grabbing some tissues, he helps wipe my face. “But if any of those ‘what if’ scenarios you got going through that little head of yours come true, your brothers will be here to help put back together the broken pieces and kick his ass… again.” Robbie smiles at me and I can’t help but laugh.

  “Thank you, Robbie.” Feeling as though a thousand-pound weight has lifted from my chest, I can actually take a full breath.

  “No worries, kid. It is what big brothers do.” Robbie thinks for a second. “But let’s not mention this to the others. I don’t need them knowing that I am wise, and then coming to me for advice and shit. This…” He gestures between us. “…is only for you and me, get it? Those dumbasses can fend for themselves.”

  Chapter 15

  Jackson

  Tilly never returns to the shop. I wait around after closing, worried because I haven’t heard from her. Shortly before I was about to call her and check in, Robbie sends me a quick text saying Tilly was just wrapping up and is on her way back home. Relieved, I quickly make my way back as well.

  However, when I get home, Tilly still isn’t here. I decide to try and whip up a quick dinner of pan-seared pork chops and roasted brussels sprouts—hopefully, she is over that ridiculous fear she has of them. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s way better than doing takeout. Noticing it has been over an hour since Robbie said Tilly was on her way, I start to get worried again—partially out of the sheer dread that something has happened to her, and partially out of concern that she is still avoiding me. We have been able to work with each other this week pretty decently, as long as we skirted around any deep conversations. Basically all we have talked about is the shop and food, and nothing more.

  It has been nearly impossible to have her physically close to me all week, and at the same time have her so emotionally distant. This isn’t the same sort of reticence as when I first arrived and her grief had consumed her. No, this emotional distance is cold and unsettling. Grabbing my phone, I decide to say fuck it and give her a call, which goes right to voicemail after two rings. Pissed, I am about to dial Robbie when I hear the front door open. Rushing to the living room, I am finally able to breathe a huge sigh of relief upon seeing Tilly hanging up her coat. That sensation of peace is quickly replaced by anger, as I remember how she didn’t check in at all today and then how she (obviously) must have rejected my call just now.

  I prepare to start grilling her about her behavior when she turns and looks at me. Her eyes are puffy and bloodshot. I can see streaks of dried tears staining her cheeks. My anger instinctually dissipates and I rush to Tilly, taking her into my arms. I don’t care about the distance she has put between us. No force on this earth could stop me from trying to comfort her. “Tilly, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

  She sniffles and wipes her face. “Sorry, I had a bit of a rough day today.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I offer, hoping she will open up to me like she has always done in the past.

  “Umm… maybe in a little bit. I am going to go upstairs and freshen up.” Tilly pulls out of my embrace, making her way up towards her bedroom.

  “Dinner is ready whenever you are,” I yell after her, in a lame attempt to entice her to come back downstairs again.

  “Ok.” Tilly grants me a weak smile. “I will be down in a few.”

  ∞∞∞

  Sitting at the dinner table the tension is so thick that it is almost suffocating. I want to do something to relieve this uneasy flutter I have in my chest, but I am not sure what to say. I know Tilly well enough, and I understand that she will only tell me what’s wrong if she wants to. But at the same time (clearly) something is on her mind. She has barely touched her dinner, mostly using her fork to roll brussels sprouts around the ceramic dish.

  “Do you not like it?” I attempt to make any level of small talk to break the ice. “I wasn’t sure if you were over that whole Ernest Scared Stupid thing or not.” I motion to the brussels sprouts on her plate.

  “Huh…?” Tilly looks down and notices her practically full plate. “Oh, sorry. It is good. I guess I am just not very hungry.”

  Looking at Tilly, at first, I thought her behavior was as detached as it has been all week. But now as I pay closer attention, I see that she is nervously fidgeting. It is something Tilly has always done when she is embarrassed. Something happened today. I am not sure what, but I can see the gears turning in her head and trying to put all the pieces together.

  “Is everything all right?” Tilly stops playing with her food and sets her fork down. Taking a deep breath and puffing out her chest, she looks up at me. Her amber eyes are ablaze. I am not sure what is fueling the flames exactly, but they are soaring.

  Abruptly, Tilly stands from the table and commences to walk out of the room. There is no way I can let her walk away from me right now. That fire, it is something. It is the most emotion I have seen from her all week. I don’t care if it is from anger or lust. While I hope it is the latter, I just want to feel something from her again.

  My chair screeches as I slide it from the table. Almost instantaneously, I am behind Tilly, grabbing her arm and turning her back to me. “Tilly, wait—” The words are stolen from my mouth as Tilly pulls it down to meet hers.

  “I’m sorry,” she moans repeatedly in between strangled breaths.

  My hands travel down her back, grabbing onto her ass and encouraging her legs to wrap around me. I contemplate carrying her upstairs, but the urgency in her kisses tells me we won't make it that far. If Jake comes home, he will get one hell of a show—but neither of us seem to care too much about that right
now. I rush over to the couch in the living room, kicking my shoes off along the way. A primal urge takes over. Without thinking, I break our kiss to rip open her blouse. Buttons fly everywhere. When Tilly gasps, I worry for a split second that I have crossed the line; but when I see the flicker of hunger in her eyes, I know this is exactly what she needs.

  Not wanting to waste another second overthinking what this might mean, I quickly strip Tilly and myself of our offensive apparel. Glancing down at Tilly’s flushed body, I watch her breasts erratically falling and rising as she pants. Just the sight of her, like this, spirals me off the deep end. Burying my face in her neck, I begin kissing her firmly while giving her little love bites.

  “Jax,” she moans, “that feels so good.” Her hands roam my back, as her nails trace roughly across my skin. This slight tinge of pain only encourages me to be rougher.

  Kissing my way down to her rock-hard nipples, I take one fully in my mouth, sucking as hard as I can. I am instantly rewarded with Tilly running her fingers through my hair and pulling it so tightly that my scalp burns. “Fuck… I need more,” she begs, practically ripping my hair from the root.

  Before she has a moment to register what is happening, I pick her up and toss her down on her belly. Tilly raises her ass in the air, giving me a taunting little shake. Bending over, I punish her cheek with a light nibble. Tilly groans with encouragement. Tracing my finger down to her center, I slip it between her lips to check if she is wet and ready for me—which she is. Typically I would enjoy a bit more foreplay, but Tilly’s body is begging me to fuck her good and proper right now.

  Leaning forward, I grab a handful of Tilly’s hair, tugging her head back slightly so that I can whisper in her ear. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

  Tilly, as best she can, nods in approval. “Yes, please,” she practically begs. It is all I wanted to hear before proceeding.