“So how did you two meet?” Phil asked.
Jesse took a sip of beer, so I answered. “At work. I teach at Central Valley High School.”
Judy raised her eyebrows. “You’re a high school teacher?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Thank you, Veronica,” she said with a smile.
“For what?” I asked, taking a bite of my sandwich.
“For teaching those kids,” she said. “I don’t know how you two deal with kids that age all day.”
I giggled. “They’re entertaining.”
“What do you teach?”
“Senior English.”
She shook her head. “I just don’t know how you do it.”
Jesse grinned. “She’s got a mean teacher voice,” he said almost boastfully. “Which, by the way, is totally hot.”
Jeez. I couldn’t believe he just said that in front of his parents. His mom blushed a little as I blushed a lot.
“Jesse!” I scolded, but his grin just widened. Clearly he was enjoying embarrassing me in front of his parents.
We chatted more about work, and Judy and Phil talked a little about their work. We had comfortable conversation during the meal, and I already felt like I was part of their family.
We all pitched in to clean up after our meal, and then Jesse asked if I wanted to take a walk, as had become our post-dinner tradition.
I agreed, and then the four of us headed out to the patio. We left our shoes on the patio and Jesse led me down the stairs to the beach while his parents sat on the patio to enjoy the cool evening air. I headed right down to the sand, but Jesse stopped and sat on the second to the bottom stair. Then he leaned down and rolled up the bottoms of his jeans. He patted his knee, and I put my foot on his leg. He rolled my jeans up for me, too, first one leg and then the other. Before he let me put my foot down, he held it in his hand for a moment. I thought he was inspecting my pedicure, but then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of my foot. Something about that gesture was intimate and made me feel cherished and loved by him.
He stood and, lacing his fingers through mine, led me down toward the water. Once we got close, we both stopped and just looked out over the ocean. The waters were choppy, but the setting was still peaceful. He threw his arm around my shoulders and I snaked my arm around his waist.
“Your parents are adorable,” I said, leaning into him. Ocean breeze mixed with Jesse was for sure an aphrodisiac.
“They love you,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “But, then, you’re very lovable.”
I stiffened. They loved me. I loved him. He called me “lovable.” Why couldn’t he just say that he loved me, too?
“What’s wrong?” he whispered.
“You can’t say things like that to me,” I said, feeling hurt and frustrated all over again. I pulled out of his arms because being there was too comforting. It was too warm and loving, and it was sending me all the wrong signals after he didn’t say the words. I wasn’t sure why I felt that way, but I couldn’t help it.
“Like what?”
“You can’t call me lovable but not say the words back to me,” I blurted.
Fucking beer. Truth serum, just like vodka. And wine.
He sighed. “Veronica, it’s not because I don’t. Because I do. It’s just…” he trailed off.
It didn’t escape my notice that he’d just admitted that he did love me. He had said, “Because I do.” If he’d have finished that sentence, it would’ve been, “Because I do love you.”
“It’s just what, Jesse?” I asked, my voice venting my frustration as I turned to look up at him.
“I’ve never said it before to a woman.” His voice was flat and he stared out over the water, running a hand through his hair as he refused to meet my eyes.
Understanding dawned on me.
This was difficult for him because it was new territory. He’d spent the last fifteen years avoiding getting close to people, most likely as a direct result of what happened with his sister. He was scared of getting attached. He wasn’t scared of commitment; that was completely different. He was committed to his job, to his woodworking, to the labels in his refrigerator. He’d proven that he could commit.
But he didn’t get attached to people. He’d learned the hard way that anyone could be taken away from him in an instant, so he’d formed a lifestyle that allowed him to make the decision of when to end things.
That was why he chose flavors of the week. That was why he’d never been in a serious relationship. That was why no woman had ever seen his bed. That was why no woman had ever met his parents. That was why he’d never told anybody about his sister.