Homecoming by Holly Jacobs

Author:Holly Jacobs
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ilex Books

BY THE TIME MONDAY ROLLED around, Laura was at her wit’s end.

Seth Keller had kissed her. Not some platonic, hey-we’re-friends sort of kiss, but a full-out plundering that had left her knees weak.

She’d wanted him.

And the guilt that followed that confession ate at her.

She loved Jay. Truly loved him heart and soul. She’d planned to marry him and build a life with him. She’d given birth to his son.

Then she’d kissed Seth Keller.

What kind of woman did that make her?

Seth called, but she’d let the machine pick up. She didn’t know what to say to him.

She was relieved when JT arrived.

She thought she was managing to behave normally, as if she was plain old Laura Watson, mother and teacher, not Laura Watson, woman who went around kissing other men. At least she thought she was managing it until she walked JT to the door after the lesson and the girl asked, “You okay?”

“Why, sure I am,” she replied as brightly as possible.

JT didn’t look as if she believed her. As a matter of fact, her disbelief was evident. “You should probably try to get some sleep when Jamie takes a nap.”

Sleep? What was that? Every time she shut her eyes she dreamed of Jay, or of Seth.

She wasn’t sure which dreams left her feeling more guilty.

“Really, get some sleep,” JT reiterated as the girl’s mother honked her horn.

Laura shut the door and let her happy facade go.

She should call Seth and tell him thank you for everything, but no, thank you. She didn’t need him. She—

The doorbell rang, interrupting her internal conversation.

Laura scanned the counter, but didn’t see any forgotten books. She wondered what JT had left behind as she picked up Jamie from his baby seat and headed to the door. She stopped a moment as she realized how easily she’d managed it. No hesitation. No worry about dropping him or picking him up wrong.

That was progress.

Every day she was feeling more comfortable with the idea of being a mom.

Laura opened the door to find Eli Keller and a woman she’d never met, standing on her porch.

“Great. You’re here.” As if an afterthought, she added, “Hi, Laura. This is my friend, Angelina Tucker.”

“Just Tucker, please.” Tucker was dressed in paint-splattered jeans with holes in the knees, and a sweatshirt that proclaimed, Tucker’s Garage, We Fix ’Em & Paint ’Em Better Than Anyone Else. The sweatshirt’s hood was pulled over her head, but brown curls escaped the sides. The sweatshirt didn’t look nearly warm enough for the bitter cold afternoon.

“Please, come in, before you freeze,” Laura encouraged them.

Eli turned to Tucker. “See, told you that a sweatshirt isn’t a coat, and you were going to freeze.”

“I’m fine,” Tucker said. “My dad would say that Tucker blood is as thick as mud. We don’t get cold. Not like Eli here. She’s always freezing. She says you’re a teacher, too. I think part of teacher’s college curriculum is Worrying 101.”

“Maybe,” Eli said, laughing at her friend. “Hang on a second, Laura, while we get the stuff from the car.

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