Real Men Knit

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Real Men Knit Page 7

by Kwana Jackson


  Jesse pulled out his phone and stared. He thought of calling one of his brothers but quickly changed his mind. He wasn’t in the mood for more conversation with or confrontation from any of them at the moment. Better to quit while he was—Jesse paused, stuck on what to think. “Ahead” was not a word he’d use for what he was. Idling, maybe? At the starting gate. Damian had gone back to his place downtown and Noah to his in Brooklyn. Lucas was on call tonight at the firehouse so he’d be staying there. The silence in the shop, despite the cars roaring outside, the people, the music, still felt overwhelming.

  He glanced at the loft again as a vision of a young Kerry came to his mind. So many times in the past he’d longed for this type of quiet. He guessed she did too. To be alone but not quite lonely. He’d often find her up there in the loft having beaten him to just the place he was going to go and hide out. She’d be quietly sitting in the corner, her back against the large wardrobe, knitting without a sound as if she had somehow sprouted there in that very spot. Like a girl-shaped bush with big round eyes behind her even bigger glasses and her multiple braids twisted in opposite directions.

  She’d give him an annoyed look but never much more. Then she’d move over and quietly make space for him to sit and knit beside her, as if he was some puppy or a cat that didn’t need much by way of acknowledgment, only space to just be. Those were the good days, the peaceful days. The other days he’d bound up, still get that same look from Kerry and, though he knew she’d not say a word, he’d put his fingers to his lips and give a “shh” gesture as he’d hide out behind the cupboard until the shock of his report card had worn off and Mama Joy had turned her ranting down to a low roar.

  Like their first meeting. He hadn’t expected her to be up there when he was running from his brothers, but there she was. He thought he was getting out of the way of a sure beatdown at the hands of Damian over messing with his stuff when, in the end, after tripping over Kerry and falling on top of her, he’d ended up getting the smackdown not from his brother but from her. Then, after, another from Mama Joy for causing such a ruckus. It was amazing Kerry ever let him near her after that. He had thought for sure with the way she’d whirled on him she either A) was scared of him or B) just flat-out hated him. But he guessed in the end he was someone she moderately tolerated. And by the way she always hung around the shop and was never really out like the other girls in the neighborhood, he suspected she also chose that place as her refuge from the outside world.

  That’s what it had been like with Kerry all these years. She was there seeking refuge and, in some ways, being a source of refuge even if she didn’t know it. He guessed he should feel relief over the fact that with Mama Joy’s passing, Kerry wasn’t just abruptly leaving too. Honestly, until that morning and the real possibility of the shop closing, he hadn’t gotten his head around it. But if he was honest with himself, the thought of her leaving scared him. Scared him, but at the same time, brought on no small measure of guilt.

  Was Damian right? Was he just using Kerry? Jesse shook his head and stalked off toward the back stairs. He couldn’t think like that. Kerry was no longer that little girl from the upstairs loft who he’d used for cover and safe passage. She’d made her decision freely without any coercion from him. Besides, judging by the way she had handled herself today, she was definitely no longer a young woman he could just shush and easily move along from.

  No, she was grown. Well and fully grown. He could tell that by the way she felt and fit in his arms earlier that morning. A feeling that was too perfect and one he knew he could not act on. Still, it was altogether surprising and definitely not unwelcome.

  But no, he couldn’t think about it. Shouldn’t think about Kerry in that way. Number one, they were close, way too close. Close in that way where Kerry could look at him and see straight to the heart of him as only a person with way too many years under her belt could. She knew his strengths, but worse, she knew his weaknesses. Which, of course, was a clear reason why she’d more than likely never consider him. But on top of that, there was reason number two. Kerry was a woman way too good for the likes of him. He knew it, and more than likely, she knew it. Why even waste the time, risk the potential heartache, when the outcome was inevitable? Jesse had already disappointed one—no, two women in his life. He wouldn’t screw up by getting entangled with Kerry and adding her to his list. She’d be one of those whom he wouldn’t be able to forget.

  Better to stay on his p’s and q’s and finally do something worth making Mama Joy proud and not wind up on the receiving end of disappointment in Kerry’s big brown gaze.

  Suddenly the shop’s front doorbell rang, followed by three firm but—he could tell—feminine raps. Jesse frowned, looking up at the window. Though it wasn’t yet dark, it was well past seven, and the closed sign was still on the shop door anyway. He let out a groan. It was probably more food from some of the neighborhood women. How much did they think he could eat? But his lights were on upstairs, as well as the back light, so there was no way he could get out of not accepting it by pretending he wasn’t there. Besides, they were just being nice. Going in and acting rude would not fly. He would be haunted, if not by Mama Joy then by all the neighborhood talk, enough to make him feel as if she’d come from the grave. Jesse started back down the stairs, his mind fighting to get into business mode and focus on all he needed to attend to and discuss with Kerry come the morning.

  He’d get right down to things, showing her and his brothers just how serious he really was. There were questions about timing, how long she thought inventorying and cataloging everything would take. Maybe they’d close the shop for three or four weeks while they got it all together and then have a grand reopening in Mama Joy’s honor, though it would be better if they could cut that time even more.

  With these thoughts, for the first time, Jesse felt like a little bit of a weight was starting to be lifted from his chest and he could actually focus on something positive instead of the overwhelming abyss of dread that had consumed him since Mama Joy suddenly passed away. True to his form, he’d been filling his time and his mind with all the wrong things: sleeping late, picking up bartending jobs, then leaving with a bottle and drinking heavily on his way home, women, more drinking and, hey, more women. But with this go at the shop, maybe Mama Joy would be proud of him working to turn things around. Not running, but facing life head-on for once.

  Jesse went to the door and looked out, focusing his gaze. Opening it, he tried to keep his mind on neutral as he took in Erika Taylor, his sometimes bedmate for the last couple of weeks and at most a convenient distraction. Still, he felt a familiar heat begin to rise as his eyes scanned her body. She was wearing black strappy high-heeled sandals and a barely there little black dress that just made it to the top of her mahogany-colored thighs and dipped low in the front, showing off her full breasts. It being early evening, he couldn’t tell if this was an outfit she’d worn all day or something she’d put on to come over to see him. Since he didn’t quite know what she did for a living, he couldn’t make an assumption either way. She flipped her head, and her wavy hair cascaded over one eye to perfectly highlight how expertly she’d worked her makeup. Her full red lips broke into a wide smile as she held up a large bottle of wine and waved it at him.

  Erika looked past him and into the empty shop and then back at him, her smile brightening when she saw he was alone. “I was guessing that you probably had a long day and could use a little bit of company.” Her words came out as more of a statement than a question.

  Jesse looked at her as his mind whirled over all the business he had just told himself he had to get done. There were notes he wanted to get to, plans to write. “Thanks, Erika, but it has been a long day; yesterday was long too. I’m kind of exhausted.”

  Erika’s expression fell, and a bit of her bravado went with it. “Yeah, I’m really sorry I didn’t make it to your mom’s funeral. I figured I didn’t really know her like that, so it
wasn’t quite my place.”

  He looked at her, surprised that she would even consider it, since even though they had been sleeping together for a while, they hadn’t gotten as far as meeting people in their usual day-to-day. Their hookups thus far had been at her place and at motels up in the Bronx. She seemed fine with it. But now, with the look in her eyes and the way she’d looked around the shop, Jesse wondered just how fine she was. “It’s okay,” he said. “It was more of a family thing.”

  Erika twisted her lips and tightened her grip around the bottle. Shit, even he could admit that was cold. He sighed. “Come on in. You know what, it’s been a long day but, um, you’re right, I could use some company.”

  Erika looked up at him and smiled again, the brightness coming back into her eyes. She shimmied past him and he caught sight of what little there was to the back of her dress. Her behind was perfectly shaped, just like the bottle she was holding. Jesse looked around the shop once again and more than anything wanted to block it all from his mind.

  He quickly closed the shop door behind Erika and made sure that the closed sign was still flipped. He put his hand on the small of her back and ushered her through. Past the cash register, the baskets of needles, and the displays of yarn. Past the farmhouse table and all the remnants of Mama Joy’s world. He led her up the stairs toward his own room, snagging a couple of glasses and a takeout menu along the way. “You hungry?” he asked close to her ear as she went up the stairs before him.

  Erika turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck. Pulling him in close to her full lips, she gave him a sexy smile. “That all depends,” she said, her voice low and husky. “What are you offering?”

  6

  If Jesse wasn’t up yesterday, then he probably was still in bed this morning too. Kerry knew his patterns, but she guessed sometime today they would have to have a talk about store hours and whether it was fine for her to be opening the shop, but in the meanwhile, with time of the essence, she didn’t have any of it to waste. If they wanted the shop back up and running quickly, they needed to get a move on. There was no time to wait on a sleeping beauty like Jesse Strong to arise at ten-ish or whenever he felt like it. By this time Mama Joy was usually up and almost ready to greet customers, if not already chatting with a few passing neighbors.

  Making her way into the shop, this time Kerry quickly disabled the alarm, not wanting a repeat of the scare she’d had the day before. But then she turned and ended up in shock anyway over the state that Jesse had left things in both the work area and the kitchen.

  Kerry felt her jaw clench tight as she tried her best not to out-and-out howl over the mess. Dammit, couldn’t he at least take out the trash? she thought while heading toward the coffeepot. Today was recycling day, not Kerry clean up and put out the recycling day. Yep, she was going to have to have a serious sit-down with him about her job description, because rinsing his empty beer bottles was definitely not going to be a part of it. Hell, she was doing them a favor, and him most of all.

  She found herself stewing over all of this and then some as she rinsed. Shaking a bottle over the sink, she looked up toward the stairs and expelled air in a hard blast out of her nostrils. What did he and his brothers get up to after she’d left anyway? She knew they were distraught, sure, but this was not the way to start things off.

  But then the image of the four of them sitting around drinking, all wishing they were together under different circumstances, pulled her up short. She let out a sigh as guilt grabbed her. She could empty a few beer bottles without complaint just this once if it was what they needed. At least they were bonding, and that was something. She hated to think of Jesse staying alone in the house upstairs without Mama Joy’s laughter to fill the empty spaces.

  Just then Kerry heard the sound of steps on the back staircase to the residence. She smiled. Good. Sleeping Beauty was finally awake. She rinsed the last bottle and, despite her earlier thoughts, knew she couldn’t let Jesse off that easy and decided to still give him some ribbing for the mess and drinking so heavily with his brothers. “What the hell, Jes? Did you guys have a party over here last night? You could have at least invited me if you were going to leave all this crap for me to clean up,” she said, turning and fully expecting to meet his hazel gaze.

  “Sorry, hon, but it was more like a private party. You know, just for two. I’m afraid you would’ve been a third wheel.”

  Kerry froze as her eyes met dark-brown ones instead of the soft green hue she was expecting. This tall female bottle of sex was definitely not Jesse, and yes, she was right—Kerry knew immediately she would have been a third wheel. Though the woman finished her little speech with a smile, neither showing her teeth nor meeting her eyes, Kerry quickly caught her full meaning.

  “Would you mind adding this to recycling?” the woman said as she pushed an empty liquor bottle toward Kerry. It was ornate and highly decorated with fake crystals and gold overlays to make it seem expensive, but Kerry knew the brand, and it was nothing but overhyped cheap hooch. She felt a frown come on—unbidden, but it came nonetheless—before she caught herself and nodded, cracking the slightest smile.

  “Sure, no problem,” she said, taking the bottle from the woman’s hands, noticing the sparkly tips on the woman’s nails and how they perfectly matched the tips of her toes. How she would soak the rhinestones off her toes was beyond Kerry. Or how she could comfortably fit her feet into a pair of sneakers. It didn’t matter. Those were not feet for sneakers.

  The thought of where those feet had been the night before came to Kerry’s mind and she turned away, quickly rinsing the bottle and dropping it into the recycling bin with a hard clang. The woman behind her chuckled, her laugh both throaty and coy at the same time, and it made Kerry feel like she somehow knew exactly what she’d been thinking about where her toes had been, and the thought pissed her off.

  Why was she still here?

  Shit, Jesse. Late-night-party picker-upper and booty-call cleanup crew were definitely not part of her job description. And would never be. Kerry bent to pick up the recycling and take it out front. Maybe if she left the woman would get the hint.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Kerry said, going to step around the woman, but was surprised when she didn’t immediately move out of the way. Kerry stilled and looked her straight in the eye. Okay, this was cute for a moment, but she no longer had the patience for it. Jesse’s women were his deal. She would not be taking on that baggage. Kerry blinked at her. “Is there anything I can help you with? If not, feel free to follow me out.”

  There, that should surely give her enough of a hint. Too bad if Jesse didn’t give her the formal goodbye she was looking for, but she’d not get coffee, a kiss and a send-off this way. Kerry stepped around her, hoping the hint was caught and the woman would just follow, but then she looked up the stairs just in time to see Jesse barefoot in sweatpants, a shirt in hand as he was making his way down. He stopped, eyes wide when he saw her.

  “You here already, Kerry? I didn’t expect you to show up so early since we’re not officially opened yet.”

  Kerry glared at him. “I gathered. So is this morning’s surprise going to be a thing with you? Because it really shouldn’t be. News flash, this is the time I usually come to work. It’s the time most people start their days and we get ready to open. Maybe you should get used to it—that is, if you’re up to it.”

  Jesse frowned as he pulled the shirt over his head and shoved his arms through the armholes. Kerry shifted her eyes toward the door, trying her best not to stare at his chest like she had yesterday.

  “Of course I’m up to it. Didn’t we get that squared away yesterday? This is me,” he said, his voice full of earnest determination. “Here I am, up and ready to work. I’m all about the business.”

  Kerry cocked her head to the side. “Yeah, my arms are full of how much you are all about the business.”

  Jesse frowned, then se
emed to notice for the first time the trash in her hands. “Okay, I get it. No need for the extra commentary,” he said, taking the bin out of her hands. “I’ll take this trash out and then we can get to work. And don’t worry, things might’ve gotten a little out of hand last night; that won’t happen again. The new me is with you and totally ready to focus.”

  Kerry raised a brow. “Yeah, you’re all about the focus. I can sure see that. Nothing gets past you.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked.

  Kerry shrugged, and at the same time the woman with the legs made her presence known. She sauntered up to Jesse slowly, her hips doing a little separate dance that somehow defied physics. She did that throaty laugh again as she caught sight of Jesse’s shocked expression. Kerry frowned, wondering just how much he had drunk and how soundly he’d been sleeping.

  “Just a one-night thing, huh?” the woman said, and nodded as she bent to fix the strap of her sandal, though Kerry could tell it wasn’t in any way out of place. She looked back up at Jesse. Kerry couldn’t tell if Jesse’s openmouthed expression was over the surprise of seeing the woman still there in the light of day or over the fantastic show of cleavage she was putting on display. She came back up and gave him a little shrug. “It’s no matter, sweetheart. With the work you put in last night, I’d consider it enough for one night and then some.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “We can call ourselves good for—what? A week? Or will it be two days before I’m hearing from you?”

 

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