Lily |18+ [Paraíso, #1]

forty

|J U L I A|

Watching the trees whiz by as the car hurtles down the back road does nothing to calm my nerves. One of Jake's hand is on the steering wheel and the other holds my hand tight. It's an off-handed gesture to him, but I'm damn near hyperventilating from it. His thumb rubs at the webbing between my thumb and forefinger every few seconds, making tingles race up my arm so hard, he could've been shoving my hand straight into an electric socket.

I study him from my peripheral and he seems unbothered, serious even, like he's thinking hard on something. Maybe it's about the argument I had the misfortune of hearing between him and David. Honestly, I couldn't decode it if I wanted to, but I'm pretty sure using your brother's deceased daughter as ammo against him certifies as a major low blow. One that may detonate any shred of sense of family between you and said brother. I didn't catch the whole conversation, just the part where David mentioned Kylie, but something's going on in the Caldwell-Carlisle household, and it's not something pretty.

Regardless of everything, Jake still upholds his grandfather's family values about staying tight-lipped about family issues and secrets. Oh, the secrets. They're piling up so much, I'm starting to get worried it's going to get ugly when I finally come clean about the whole journal fiasco, not to mention the scandalous things I've come across while reading his dad's journal. I've stopped doubting whether the journal belonged to James Caldwell or not. Most of the entries align with everything that happened during that time. Liz's adoption, Philip Carlisle's election into the House of Representatives, my fath-Robert Price's swearing as a judge. . . the list is endless.

And then there are things Jake and I need to walk through. We've got unsolved issues, both from the past and present. Mostly from the past. We still haven't talked about it, but I know we have to. Soon.

I don't notice we've arrived until the car slows to a stop in front of my house. A hand circling my forearm has me turning my head to Jake. He doesn't say anything, which just makes the silence in the car deafening. I don't know what's going through his mind. D.C was as chaotic as it was weird. Starting from the revelation on Jake's mom, right down to Arthur Jennings' strange behavior toward me. Maybe that's just the daddy issues baggage inside of me talking. I'm not used to male, fatherly attention of any kind and the warm, encouraging hugs I got from Arthur over the week made me wish it was real and not the made up fantasy in my head.

Turns out, he really is a prolific vintner, with vineyards scattered across the country and a successful wine distillery under his name too. Verlaine, he'd called it. The name sounded familiar for some damn reason, but I haven't placed it yet. Harper's mother was cordial all through, a stark contrast from the overly friendly person I met the first time. I didn't have time to deconstruct Penelope, didn't have to 'cause I honestly didn't give a shit about her.

Talking about mothers and strange behaviors. . .

My eyes shift to Jake, who still doesn't glance my way. Knowing him, he's working up the nerve to say something.

"About this morning—" he starts, but I cut him off.

"You don't need to explain anything."

Jake's family is as complicated as it is complex. I never fully understood the dynamic between him and his brothers, even when we were young. All I knew was that when it came right down to it, the Carlisle family was a model example of loyalty, no matter the situation. Which is why I can't call out his brother on his bullshit, can't cross that line even if I wanted to.

"I meant what I said about your mom and sister," he clarifies. "I crossed a line and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."

Oh. That. Well, now I feel like an idiot. How stupid to think he'd ever discuss family matters with me.