by Jacie Floyd
After playing a few rounds of pool, they began to drift home. By ten o’clock, Jillian was alone again in the empty house. She cleaned the kitchen and straightened the family room, but some of the evening’s conversations replayed in her head.
She’d invited her friends over to disperse the grief that blanketed the house, but somehow, their company had made it worse.
Jillian couldn’t sleep.
Despite the cold front that had moved in, she donned the pink down coat she’d worn in high school, poured Bailey’s-laced hot chocolate into an insulated mug, and grabbed a blanket to take out on the deck. Maybe the diamond-bright stars and platter-sized harvest moon would calm her thoughts.
As she settled into a recliner, the thunk of a car door drew her attention. A truck had parked next to her car. A shadowy form she’d recognize anywhere loomed between the two vehicles. Reaching into the house, she switched on the exterior lights, then hurried down the steps.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded from the end of the walk.
Liam’s shoulders moved in a helpless shrug. “I couldn’t stay away.”
Those four words warmed her up more than a whole pot of hot chocolate. “Tonight stirred up a lot of memories, huh?”
“Too many.” He waved his hand in a vague gesture between the two of them and then out toward the greater world. “You. Me. Your dad. Tyler. I’m usually better at keeping them walled off.” His hand smoothed across the hood of the bright blue Nissan 350Z she’d had in high school. “And now, seeing this, I’m floored. How did I miss it earlier?”
“Surrounded by six or eight other vehicles, it’s not so noticeable.”
“Where did you find it?”
“In the fourth garage bay. Dad kept it like I left it twelve years ago. He probably drove it to the dealership for general maintenance every so often, but it was right here where I left it.” When she’d needed to go to Mick’s on Friday, she entered the garage expecting several cars to choose from, but finding her beloved Zee reduced her to tears. Small unexpected details like that kept whacking her upside the head.
Liam’s face lit up like a kid’s at Christmas. “Let’s get in.”
Danger! Danger! a cautious little voice inside her head whispered.
The car represented too many intimacies to ward off in a vulnerable moment, but Liam opened the door on the driver’s side. He adjusted the seat for his long legs. Gripping her mug, she reluctantly climbed in and leaned against the door, as far away from him as the small space allowed.
Her graduation tassel dangled from the rearview mirror, and one of Ziggy’s leashes curled on the floorboard. A silver charm bracelet Liam had given her as a graduation gift lay tarnished in the cupholder. After their final encounter, she’d jerked it off on the way home and abandoned it there. Prickles at the base of her neck reminded her that resentments lived on from that night. “Being here in Sunnyside is like living in a time warp.”
“Then the Zee’s your time machine. Man, this takes me back.” He leaned against the headrest and turned to look at her in the dim light. “I may have fallen in love with you because of this car.”
His words squeezed her heart, but she scoffed and sipped her cocoa, knowing better than to take them seriously. “You thought I was the bomb-dot-com when Daddy gave it to me on sixteenth birthday. You and half the guys in town.”
“And the other half fell for you, because, uh, your chest, uhm.” His lips twitched. “Your body exploded with curves that year.”
“But you only cared about the car.” They both knew that wasn’t true. He’d been all about her body, too.
“How could I help it? Just look at this baby.” He flashed the lights off and on. “It was all yours, and you didn’t have to pay for it, or share it with anyone. Perpetually full gas tank. You let me drive it wherever we went. Heady stuff for a kid from the wrong side of town.”
“This is Sunnyside.” Without thinking, she tapped the side of his head with the heel of her hand, like she was trying to knock some sense into him. “There is no wrong side.”
He grabbed her cold hand and rubbed it between her palms. “Tell that to those of us who lived there.”
She rolled her eyes and pulled her hand away. “I shouldn’t have to.” His lack of finances had always been a sore spot for him, not for her. As far as she was concerned, her dad was a king in a very small kingdom. No one else in town could match his wealth, and she went out of her way to keep her friends from feeling inferior.
“Just because the divide didn’t affect the Sunnyside Princess, that doesn’t mean it didn’t exist.”
“In your head, sure. But I thought you were as good as anyone. Smarter, nicer, and better-looking.”
“You forget Zach.” In the dim light, his smile conquered a twist of regret. “He ran the table in all three categories.”
“Zach’s wonderful, always has been, but he had issues, too. Especially after Tyler’s death.” The defining event of their senior year. It knocked all of them for a loop.
“Yeah, well.” Echoes of that terrible night slipped between them, like an uninvited obnoxious guest begging for attention. Liam stared into the night. “None of us came away unscathed. It’s to Zach’s credit that he became a better person than before. If only I could claim that.”
Jillian settled her hand on his arm. “You can’t blame Tyler’s death for what happened to you later.”
“You’re right. That’s on me.” His heavy sigh fogged the windshield. “Psych 101. Everything from a person’s past effects their present and future. It’s up to the individual to choose what that effect is.” A ghost of a smile twisted his lips. “Some would say I chose poorly.”
“Some would say recognizing that fact is a sign of growth.”
Shaking his head, he ended the subject. His palm traced across the dashboard like a man stroking a lover’s smooth skin. She shivered, remembering that touch.
“We had a lot of fun in this car.” His mischievous grin reminded her of the boy he’d been. “Want to take it for a spin, stop at the Dairy Bar on the way to a make-out session at Schaefer’s lake? Or we can skip the milkshakes and go straight to the lake.”
She laughed, squashing the rush of temptation. “It’s too cold for the lake.”
“That never stopped us before. I can adjust enough clothes to get the job done without removing a thing. Unsnap this. Unbuckle that. Slip inside there. Remember?”
She remembered too well. Finishing her hot chocolate, she did her best to resist the memories and pretend the warmth swirling through her was due to the drink, not the silky heat of his words. “Imagine Jimbo’s surprise if he got a call about kids making out at the lake and discovered us going at it in the bucket seats.”
“Awkward.” He turned toward her and draped his arm along the back of her seat. “But it wouldn’t be the first time the police got a call about us.”
Hiding her face behind her hands, her cheeks flamed. “Oh, Lord. That old goat Sheriff Thompson got an eyeful that time he shined his giant flashlight into the car.”
“Anybody would have known it was us. There was no mistaking this car.”
“I never dreamed he’d agree to keep the incident from my father, but as far as I know, he never told him.”
“What makes you think he didn’t?”
She stopped to consider. “Dad never mentioned it to me. Never grounded me or took my car keys away.”
Liam smirked. “His princess wasn’t the one he blamed. He ripped me a new one in a conversation I hoped to never repeat.”
“Oh, God, I didn’t know. What did he say?”
“I wasn’t supposed to drive your car again for three months, and I was supposed to keep my hands to myself in the future. Or else.”
“Or else what?”
“The threats were vague, but I knew if I crossed him, he would make my life more difficult than it already was.”
A small gasp escaped her. That was a side of her father she’d never seen. “I
remember when you wouldn’t drive the car for a while that summer, but I don’t remember you keeping your hands to yourself.”
“I didn’t want to upset your dad, so I followed his command about the car and made sure we didn’t get caught parking a second time, but the promise to keep my hands off you lasted about a day and a half. That was the best I could do.”
“Rampaging hormones at work. You weren’t that particular.”
Flaring with heat, his eyes bored into her. “I was very particular.”
Slowly, oh, so slowly, he leaned across the console, closing the space between them. Her breath caught in her throat. Instinct urged her to flee, but she’d retreated as far as she could and her desire to stay and see the moment through took precedence.
Stroking his fingers through the hair at her temple, he pushed the length over her shoulder and trailed kisses along her jaw. “You were the one I wanted. The one I want now, God help me, I didn’t know how much. Small town or big city, you were always the one.”
Jillian thought to object. They both knew there were times that wasn’t true. But he was here now, and God help her, she wanted him, too. If only for the moment.
“Should we do this?” he whispered, giving her the option.
“For old time’s sake?”
“We never had a farewell kiss.”
Their lips met, and her brain exploded. Shards of desire propelled through her body, settling in the girly bits deprived of his touch for so long. With his fingers entwined in her hair, she moaned. Their tongues rubbed together, igniting a dangerous combination of memory and longing that sent her hands burrowing beneath his jacket, pulling up his shirt to touch, really touch, for the first time in a long time, his rippling muscles. The smallest adjustment would make it possible for her to slip her fingers inside his waistband and reach the prize that awaited her.
He tasted just as she remembered. Warm, welcoming, male, and delicious.
His body felt the same, but different. Harder, bigger, with more muscle, and more control.
He pulled her toward him. As their mouths continued to feast on one another, the gearshift knob bit into her hip. His elbow bumped the steering wheel.
Breathing hard, she pulled back, appalled to realize she had been this close to stripping off her panties to straddle him and have sex in her car. It wouldn’t have been the first time, but still. He’d always had the ability to make her lose her mind, but she was not going to let that happen again. “This changes nothing, you know. I’m still mad at you.”
“I figured, but I appreciate the momentary reprieve.”
“You broke my heart, betrayed my trust.” She needed to say the words aloud, reminding herself as much as him. “You won’t get a second chance to hurt me.”
“Plus, I carry a lot of baggage these days. No woman with even half a brain would get involved with me. I can’t offer anything that you would want.” He paused to give her his sexiest grin. “Except for head banging sex and mind-blowing orgasms, of course.”
That incentive made no difference to her. Broken heart trumped amazing sex any day. Probably. Damn it. “They weren’t really that special, as I recall.”
“They weren’t? They were the best I could do at the time.” His exaggerated frown shifted into a confident grin. “It’s good to know I’ve upped my game since then.”
Her heart skipped a beat. Better body and improved skill? Was that possible? Did it matter? “Got in a lot of practice since I last saw you?”
Up went the eyebrow. “Haven’t you? I’ve heard chefs get around.”
“I’ve had my share of, um, experiences. Hot sex. Amazing sex. Sex on too many kitchen islands to count.” Okay, she was lying through her teeth. Her dalliances had been very limited. Some had been good. Most disappointing. Only once on a kitchen island. And none of them as satisfying as even the most ordinary evening she’d ever spent with him.
But maybe it was her fault. Maybe she was the one whose skills hadn’t improved.
“Does the health department know about that?” As he straightened his shirt and coat, Jillian got a flash of abs. “Now I’m sorry I ate at Le Dish.”
“You never know what goes on behind the scenes. Ever thought about Lenore’s diner after hours?”
He rubbed his fists into his eyes. “Oh God, I’d rather not.”
Now that the warmth of the hot chocolate and the heat of their kiss was dimming, the frigid cold seeped into her toes. She opened her car door instead of snuggling up to him again. “I need to go in.”
Without hesitation, he got out on the driver side. “My cue to leave.”
“Thanks for stopping by.”
“Anytime.”
They turned in opposite directions. “Liam?”
He turned to look at her, broad-shouldered, loose-limbed, brooding, and familiar. He carried pain inside him. Some that she’d instilled, some self-inflicted. Some not of his or her making. There was one thing that had always bothered her. That she felt genuinely bad about.
“I was sorry to hear about Caleb’s death.” Caleb, the older brother he’d always looked up to. The soldier who’d fallen in Afghanistan not long after she’d left Sunnyside. “I was in Paris when Dad told me what had happened.” She’d known how devastated he’d be about the loss. Even thousands of miles apart, Liam’s pain had knifed through her like it had been her own. “I couldn’t get back in time for the funeral, but I should have reached out to you.”
“It wouldn’t have changed anything.” His eyes darkened in the moonlight, bleak with despair.
“It might have.” If she’d returned for the funeral, seen him then, comforted him, provided the support and connection he needed, they might have put their problems behind them. When she hadn’t been able to make that happen, the chance had passed them by, never to be reclaimed.
“He would have still been dead, it would still have been the worst summer of my life, and you would still have been mad about Leah and having sex in front of the whole town.”
“It wasn’t the whole town. But sometimes a friend’s comfort and support makes a difference during a difficult time.” He’d been there for her when her mother died. She hadn’t returned the favor when he needed one. The regret still gnawed at her, and there was no way to change it. Maybe mentioning it had been a mistake.
She headed up the back steps; he climbed into his truck. She flicked the light when she got inside. His headlights flashed from the end of the drive. Old habits died hard. Her heart warmed at the familiar ritual.
Chapter Seven
Alerted by the ding of a FaceTime request, Jillian grinned ear-to-ear at the sudden appearance of Lance’s image on her laptop screen. Honestly, she’d welcome any break from reviewing her father’s complicated financial statements and reliving the memory of Liam’s visit from the night before. “Good morning! This is a happy surprise. How’s it going with you, roomie?”
Her best friend frowned at the chipper greeting. Seated at his office desk, his tie was askew, and his hair stood on end—like he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly. So unlike his usual buttoned-down, razor-sharp bean-counter demeanor. “Have you seen the news?”
The abrupt question confused her. She reached for her cup of coffee. “The Sunnyside news?”
“Lord, no. The real news. You know, New York. CNBC. The NY Times.”
“How would I see any of that?” Visiting Sunnyside was like living on the dark side of the moon where a change to the trash pick-up schedule warranted a banner headline.
That something newsworthy was happening in New York City was par for the course. Any time of day, the Big Apple generated more news than it had time to report. At the moment, though, she couldn’t see how anything happening there could have anything to do with her here.
The picture on the screen jumped, but not before she got a clear view of him rolling his basset-hound brown eyes. “You subscribe to it online. There are apps. You could be keeping track on your computer, iPad, or phone. Techno
logy, Jillian, have you heard of it?”
“I have, smartass, but I’ve been busy. What’s up?” His onscreen grimace prompted a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She grabbed her iPad to pull up a newspaper. “Is it something bad? It’s bad, isn’t it? Are you okay? Is it Kaylie? Has there been another terrorist attack?”
“It’s nothing like that. Kaylie’s fine. I’m fine. No new terrorist attacks that I’m aware of.” He held out his hands in a calm-down gesture. “Don’t freak out, but Aaron Wyland has been indicted for fraud, money laundering, and a shitload of other building slash construction related charges.”
The sensation of falling was so clear and strong, she suspected her father’s expensive ergonomically-correct chair had collapsed beneath her. But no. Its soft leather and sleek construction continued to support her as if her plans and dreams hadn’t been dashed to the ground. Her thoughts ran in disjointed circles. “The owner and CEO of Wyland Construction? That Aaron Wyland? The construction company that’s building my restaurant? How did this happen? What does this mean? They had such a great reputation!”
“I know! I’ve had feelers out all morning digging for information. Apparently, when the walls started coming down around them, they came down with a vengeance. The word on the street is that they’ve been being investigated for months.”
Her fingers tapped the keypad, searching for news. “What will happen now? Not to be too self-centered—this is terrible for Aaron’s employees and all of his clients—but how will this affect me and my restaurant?”
“Not in a good way, I’m afraid. Wyland’s been arrested, his assets seized, and construction has been halted on all projects.”
“No! They have my money. I can’t afford a delay. How long will they be shut down? Days? Weeks?”
“Months or years.” Worse news was conveyed in the shake of his head. “Maybe permanently.”
Banging her forehead against the desk seemed appropriate but probably wouldn’t make the situation any better. Couldn’t be worse, right? But she didn’t need another headache. Rubbing her fingers against her temples, she struggled to pull it together. “Okay. Now, what? What recourse do I have? Should I see about getting a flight out today or tomorrow?”