Sunsets at Seaside(62)

Jessica’s apartment was dark, but Jamie heard the faintest music playing inside. He knocked lightly on the door, and a few minutes later the door opened a crack. Jessica was looking down, and he couldn’t see her face.

“Hey, sorry I’m so late.”

She opened the door, eyes trained on the floor. Jamie followed her in and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

“How are you feeling?”

She shrugged.

“Babe, why aren’t you talking to me? Are you that sick?” He turned her in his arms, and his stomach plunged. Her eyes were swollen and red, her nose was bright pink, and her lower lip was trembling.

“Jess? What happened?” He pulled her against his chest.

She fisted her hands in his shirt, and her body trembled. He realized she was still crying. He gathered her in his arms and carried her to the couch, and held her, safely enveloped against him, as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Jessie, what can I do? What happened?”

She shook her head, and he stroked her back, hoping to soothe whatever ache she had.

“Did something happen to your father? A friend?”

Again she shook her head.

Jessica sucked in a jagged lungful of air and lifted her head from his tear-soaked shirt. The minute their eyes met, she burst into tears again.

“Shh. Whatever it is, it’s okay. I’ll take care of it. We’ll get through it together.” He stroked her back, while his own chest tightened with worry. He surveyed the apartment for clues about what was going on. Her cello was propped against the wall in the corner; her laptop and phone were on the table. The small kitchen was tidy, and he had a clear view into the bedroom, and other than the bed being rumpled, everything was in its place. The sounds of her sniffling and the feel of her trembling against him made his gut clench tight.

“Jess, please tell me why you’re upset.”

She pushed away from his chest again.

Jamie wiped her tears with his thumbs.

“It’s okay. Whatever it is, I’ll take care of it.”

“I’m…sorry.” A lone tear accompanied her whisper.

“Jessie, don’t be sorry. It’s okay to cry. I just want to help fix whatever’s wrong.”

She nodded and wiped her eyes. “I’m afraid to tell you, but I want to.”

“Tell me what? You can tell me anything.” He searched her eyes and saw so much worry and sadness that he couldn’t imagine what was causing her so much pain.

“I’ll tell you, but you have to promise me to be one hundred percent honest, even if it’ll hurt me.”

He cupped her beautiful cheek, his chest tight and his heart in his throat. He wished he knew what was going on. He had nothing to hide from her, and to think she was this upset over something about him knocked the wind out of him.

“I promise. I’ll always be honest with you. Always.”

She shifted her body so she could sit up straighter and inhaled deeply. She pressed her lips together and nodded, as if she were nodding to herself, telling herself she was okay. Her eyes fell to his chest again.

He was ready to crawl out of his skin with worry.

“Baby, please,” he whispered.

“Tonight, after the concert was over and you were helping Vera…” She drew in another uneven breath. He felt her fingers grip his shirt. “Mark said…”

His body flashed hot. His muscles constricted. Mark? Mark caused this? He clenched his jaw to keep from raising his voice.

“What did Mark say to you?”

She swallowed hard but held his stare. “He said that…” Her breath hitched and she swallowed again, then gripped his shirt—and chest—tighter. Her jaw began to tremble again.

“He said that you’re just playing around with me and that you can have any woman you want. That I’m no different from any other woman you’ve been with and if I don’t want to be responsible for the demise of your career, I should back off.”

She spoke so fast it took him a minute to process what she’d said. Breathing harder as understanding dawned on him, he was powerless against the rage that filled his veins. His hands fisted and his biceps flexed. Without a word, he lifted Jessica off of him and set her on the couch.

“Jamie?” Tears streaked her cheeks as she huddled on the couch, looking small and fragile and so horribly broken it killed him.

Every muscle tensed. Fire seared his veins, but beneath that rage was his love for Jessica, and it battled the anger. He was afraid to touch her, afraid to get too close for fear that his anger toward Mark might move him to act too roughly.

“I’ll be back.” Blinded by anger, he moved for the door. He had to fix this mess, had to get to Mark and beat the life out of him for hurting Jessica—for putting any doubt in her beautiful mind.