Page 63 of Loving at 40

“What if I didn’t return to the department?” What was I saying? “Hypothetically speaking,” I jest, but there’s no humor in my voice.

Jenna sits upright, steeling herself, and giving me a glimpse of the woman constantly protecting her children. The fierceness when Rosie held my gun. The strength when Rosie fell from the swing. The shield around her to prevent ever being hurt again. I see it because I recognize it, but I don’t want the deflection used on me.

“You know, Archer, once upon a time, I played these games. I could hang with the best of them. Flirt. Fuck. But I’d never fold for a man. I wanted to be someone’s priority. And I found that. I had someone who put me at the top of his list and didn’t back down, no matter how hard I pushed. Ryan was my person. I want that again. It sounds selfish and maybe a little snotty, but I deserve it. I told you I believe in second chances, but that second time needs to be just as involved as the first, maybe more. I’m not settling for less. I need someone who wants to be home. With me.” She points at herself. “With my girls.”

“Maybe you could be my home.” I stare at her across the table, finding myself surprised at the admission but strangely confident in the truth. She and the girls feel like home, but I can’t tell her that yet. I don’t know how I’ll protect her if I go back to work for the department. I’m also not convinced I’m the man she needs to be home with her. “Because I don’t have one.”

Her mouth slightly falls open before she whispers my name. “You have a home. A family even. They’re waiting for you. They want you to return.”

“That’s Anna’s family. It was Ben’s. I want my own.” I want her and the girls.

While Jenna gapes at me, I retreat into my head. Have I misread everything? Maybe she really meant to keep us in the dark. A little dalliance at the lake, and then she returns to her good life while I slink back into my hole, undercover and unknown. Maybe even unmissed.

Sitting upright, I double tap my hands on the table, brushing off the comment. “Forget I said that. That was stup—” Something knocks into my shoulder, pressing me back in my seat before I jostle forward again.

“What the frack?” Quickly, I stand, spinning in the direction of a person I hadn’t seen near our table. A woman in a form-fitting white dress saunters down the remainder of the short aisle. Her ass is large and sculpted, and her heels clack on the rough flooring of the rooftop. Long, straight, dark hair slightly sways across the middle of her back.

Viviana? It can’t be.

“Are you alright?” Jenna asks, and I spin back to her but just as quickly glance back over my shoulder. The outline of the woman’s curvy hips. Those killer high heels. A lingering scent of overpowering perfume. Everything scrambles in my head like a bad video feed as the woman has disappeared down the staircase leading to the first floor.

Turning back to Jenna, I open my mouth, but her phone buzzes on the table.

“It’s Mila. Let me take this.” She picks up her phone and answers it in a rush. “What’s wrong?”

Holding up a finger for me, she mouths, “I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head to dismiss the apology.

“Okay, put Talia on?” In that momentary lapse, Jenna speaks to me as she stands. “I’m just going to head downstairs and take this. I’ll be right back.”

As Jenna passes me, she brushes a hand on my shoulder, swiping it over my shirt in a soft caress where I’d just been hit. As she walks away, I turn to watch her backside, noting the curve of her form in her tight dress. Her heels click lightly on the rooftop floor as she steps toward the staircase leading downward. As she moves forward, the sound of her softer tapping merges in my ears with the harder pounding of the previous woman stomping off in her heels.

It couldn’t be Vi. Not here. Not now.

I reach for my wine and down the remainder of the glass. This could not be happening. It’s like I conjured Viviana up to push away the possibility of a normal life. I can’t believe I asked Jenna if she could be my home. Of course, she couldn’t be my rock. The thought was ridiculous to voice.

No one will ever love you. You’re a despicable human being.

I’ll be going back to the department. I’ll be heading undercover again.

Glancing over my shoulder one more time where Jenna disappeared, where the other woman did as well, I accept that the concept of a real-life, romantic hope, and being home is a fucking lost cause.

24

[Jenna]

“Talia, what’s wrong, baby?” I say into the phone as I make my way down the stairs.

“When are you coming home?”

I check the time on my phone. “Later, baby. What’s going on?” Why is she even still up? It’s after eight, and she should be in bed.

“Will you come in and see me when you get home?”

“Of course, honey. When I get home, I’ll come in and kiss you good night.” Like I would if I’d gone anywhere with anyone. Because my little worrier worries, I always go to the girls’ room once I get home and press a kiss to their heads, telling them I love them, even if they are sleeping and can’t hear me.

“Are you with Archer?”