Off Limits Collection

by Jane Anthony

  “Hey, Jill, good to see you again.” The sound of my name rolling off his tongue resonated in my ear as he wrapped his arms around my back. His body was solid against mine, and he smelled like soap and manliness. A rich, clean, spicy fragrance I couldn't pinpoint but didn't want to stop inhaling. As I pulled away from our quick embrace, I took another quick hit, resisting the urge to run my hands down his glorious chest.

  “I came back to town a while ago to get some stuff in order. I remembered your pops had this old garage and thought I’d bring the Mustang in for an oil change. It’s long past due.”

  The mention of my dad sent a pang into my heart. Jameson Tate must not read the obituaries very often. I went back over to the percolator and poured AJ a fresh hot cup, black, just as he liked it. Gross. I loved coffee, but I generally dumped enough cream and sugar in it to make it stand up on its own. “How do you like your coffee, Jame?”

  “Oh, light and sweet thanks.” When he smiled at me again, a little dimple appeared on the side of his mouth. I had an overwhelming desire to run over and lick it but concentrated on fixing his coffee instead.

  “That’s a hot ride you got there,” I said, watching the dark and light swirls dance in the coffee cup before handing it over. Our fingers grazed as he took the cup from my hand, sending shockwaves of electricity up my arm and down into my midsection.

  We had stood for a few beats before AJ cut in. “I gotta get back to work, dude. It was good seeing you, though. You should come by the house one day and hang out.”

  Jameson blew on his hot coffee and took a sip. Never in my life did I ever wish to be a Styrofoam cup more than I did the second his lips touched that one. “You guys still live out back?”

  “Yeah, we’re still there. Set something up with Jill. I’ll see ya later, man.” AJ turned, slapping the door open with his hand and letting it slam shut behind him like usual.

  The silence between us was awkward. Making small talk with regular people was hard enough, but Jameson was like a cross between an Abercrombie model and a contractor. There is nothing sexier than a hot dude with dirty hands. “Your car shouldn’t take that long, so you’re welcome to have a seat and hang out,” I said, making my way back to my desk.

  Jameson sprawled out wide legged on the couch and sipped his coffee quietly. The clacking of the keyboard was the only sound that filled the room. “So,” he said, after a while. “How’s the old man? I’m shocked he’s not here.”

  A feeling of dread came over me. I always hated this part. Morello and Son’s Restoration was a well-known establishment in this town, and everyone knew my father. It wasn’t uncommon for me to run into someone who would ask about my dad and what he was up to. There was no life insurance, so we weren’t left with anything when he died. He was quickly cremated, and we had a small ceremony at the church.

  “He died last year,” I said flatly, unable to come up with an ounce of compassion. Whenever I told people my parents were dead, they always responded with that 'aww, poor you' head cocked puppy dog eyed look that made me want to throw a few punches. I didn't need anyone's patronizing sympathy.

  Jameson's face showed none of that. The only look he offered up was shock. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, Jillian. I didn’t know.”

  God, I’m such a bitch sometimes. It was unfair to blow him off like that. It was a simple question, one any old friend would ask. There was a time when Jameson spent a lot of time at our house, and he got to know my dad well. They both had a love of cars, and he and my dad bonded over that similarity, something AJ had no interest in discussing with him. I put my hand up to silence his apologies. “It’s fine, Jame, I know. Don’t worry about it.”

  “It all makes sense now,” Jameson said to himself, rubbing his chin.

  I looked up from the desk. “What makes sense?”

  “AJ being the head mechanic, you running the office. You guys are all alone here, aren’t you?”

  I shrugged in response. It was just the way it was. This last year felt like an eternity, and I couldn’t imagine a time when we weren’t chained to this place like cogs in a dying machine.

  Jameson rose from the couch and tossed his empty cup into the trash nearby. I watched from behind the desk as he walked out the front door and sat on the curb, his black and gray plaid covered forearms resting on his bent knees. He looked around. First to one side, then the other, and then eventually just rested his head in his hands as if contemplating his next move. He stood, kicked the dirt, and disappeared through the bay doors.

  JAMESON

  Driving back through the little town my dad forced me from was bizarre. It was like an instant time warp. The entire place looked exactly the same. The school, the tiny downtown strip where all of the stores were — it seemed like time had stood still. I’d driven by the old yellow garage a few times since I’d been back and wondered if the Morello family still owned it. It had been five years since we spoke, but playing music and hanging out at their place was still one of my fondest memories.

  Mr. Morello was a good guy. He was a hell of a lot better than the old bastard who raised me. An oil change on the Mustang was easy enough to accomplish on my own, but I figured it was worth a few bucks for the trip down memory lane. Seeing AJ working there was a surprise, and from the looks of it, he’d been there a while. Working with old cars and getting my hands dirty was always a passion of mine, and something Mr. Morello and I could talk about for hours, but AJ was different. He was really into music. I guess we all have a way of being sucked into things we never anticipated.

  Seeing Jillian was even more surprising. She was the runt little sister in her dad’s old oversized band tees that insisted on tagging along everywhere we went. AJ never really cared because she didn’t get in the way, and it was cool with me because I kind of thought she was cute. Mr. Morello let AJ and I turn the house’s detached garage into a studio of sorts so we could have a place to hang out anytime we wanted. When someone in the neighborhood was giving away a futon, we threw it in there thinking it would be a great place to bring girls. The only girl who ever actually got to use it, to my knowledge anyway, was Jillian Morello.

  She would sit there for hours, just happy to watch us play and could hang as chill as any boy I knew. She said that when we made it big, she would be our roadie. I laughed at the thought of that because she was just an itty-bitty thing. She couldn’t be more than five feet tall and not even one hundred pounds soaking wet.

  Five years might not have done anything for the town, but it certainly did wonders for Jillian. With her long brown hair and black/brown eyes, she’d always been a pretty girl, but she was definitely no runt. When she got up from that desk, I got excited to see her for completely different reasons. She was tiny in size but not in body, that was for damn sure. Her ass was fierce in those low-rise jeans, and the girl had no trouble filling out a tee shirt. A simple Morello and Son’s tee was tied into a knot at the small of her back, stretching the words across her ample chest. The logo practically leaped toward me in 3D. When she came in for that hug and pressed her voluptuous body against mine, my jeans suddenly felt tight.

  But, Jillian blurting out that her father had died stirred up feelings I didn’t know how to handle. Years had passed since I’d seen the man, but for some reason, I felt an overwhelming sense of loss that Mr. Morello was gone.

  I remember when AJ left school because his mom died. When he returned, he never brought her up again. It was almost as if it never happened. My own mother died when I was just a little kid, although not exactly the same circumstances.

  Cancer is sad; overdosing on prescription pain meds is just pathetic.

  It was just my father and me after that, and he made it known that my presence wasn’t appreciated. I was more of a nuisance to him than anything else. Weeks would go by when he'd pretend I wasn’t there at all. He’d look right through me as if I were a ghost, and then go out without ever saying a word, leaving me home alone to wonder if he’d return. But he always did and alway
s with another girl.

  I use the word ‘girl’ because that’s usually what they were. Young girls, on the brink of becoming women, but not quite there yet. Broken and sad, riddled with daddy issues they hoped my father would be able to fill.

  I was too young to realize the implications of my father’s actions at first. The yelling voices of my parents would echo through the walls of our tiny two-bedroom apartment, but the subject matter was lost on me. My father was a disgusting, disturbed individual.

  So many nights, I stayed up wondering why my mother chose to take her own life instead of just taking me and leaving him, but I’d never have the answer to that question. My only assumption was that she feared I’d grow up just like him and couldn’t bear to live long enough to see it.

  All things aside, I still loved my mother, and I knew how AJ must have been feeling even though he was intent on remaining stoic about the whole thing. We bonded over the unspoken loss we both shared and became friends.

  Until I was forced to leave.

  AJ was standing under my car changing the oil filter as I walked back into the shop. “Hey, man, how’s it going back here?”

  “Just about done,” he said, grabbing the greasy rag from his back pocket and wiping his hands on it.

  I looked around the messy shop. All three lifts were full and there were sporadic car parts piled all over. I shoved my hands in my pockets casually. “Looks like you can use a hand.”

  He snorted a laugh in response. “Yeah, well, there are worse things to have than too much work, I guess. There could be none, right?”

  “Jillian told me about your dad. I’m sorry, man. He was a good guy.” AJ looked up from his work for a second, but I saw hurt flash in his eyes. It happened so quickly you could miss it if you weren’t paying attention. “Listen, you need a mechanic and I need a job. What do you say?”

  “I say that if you’re looking for money, you’re barking up the wrong tree. It may be busy around here but the overhead is high. There’s not a lot of money left for anything else.”

  I nodded, letting that thought sink in for a second. They were struggling. “Look, AJ. I’ll do any job you have. You need the floors swept? I’m your man. You need someone to do oil changes all damn day, screw it. I’ll do that too.”

  “I can’t offer you benefits, and I’ll pay you per diem, cash off the table. When there’s work, I’ll call ya, when there’s not, I won’t. Best I can offer.”

  “Deal. When can I start?”

  AJ walked over and hit the button to lower the lift. “Come back after lunch.”

  Chapter Three

  JILLIAN

  I heard the growl of an engine in the shop and watched as AJ pulled Jameson’s car out of the bay. The men stood next to it for few minutes talking, then they shook hands, and Jameson jumped in sped out of the lot. The flicker of hurt I felt when he didn’t even come in to say good-bye was silly. We weren’t friends. I was just his friend’s annoying kid sister who followed him around like a lovesick puppy.

  He was nice eye candy for an hour, but I needed to put on my big girl panties and go about my day. As hard as I tried, however, I could not get that man out of my head. I worked the rest of that morning with the words Jameson Tate burning a hole on my tongue. The way his eyes danced when he saw me come away from the desk, the way his body felt as he squeezed me in that seemingly innocent hug. The office held more than the ghosts of my parents; it now included the memory of Jameson all swirling around in my head like the coffee I’d poured earlier. When lunchtime came, I couldn’t wait to escape and retreat into the comfort of my home for an hour.

  I called back into the garage to let AJ know I was heading out and ask him if he wanted anything. He grumbled something in response that I didn’t understand, and I figured he’d just eat what I brought back.

  Once upon a time, AJ was the funniest guy I knew. He would make me laugh until my sides hurt with just a stupid expression or a quick-witted joke. Now, he was so grumpy all the time that it was best to just stay out of his way.

  Humid heat blasted me in the face as I entered our house. I walked around opening all the windows while leftover pieces of meatloaf twirled in the microwave. The ding called me back to the kitchen. I put one piece on a plate for me and wrapped up another piece on a Kaiser roll for AJ.

  VH1 played music videos during the day, and I couldn’t help but give an appreciative little fist pump when I flipped it on and saw it was Metal Mania day. I finished my food while rocking out to classic metal tunes and prepared dinner for the evening, knowing that I hated having to do it after work. The hour went fast, and I grabbed the sandwich I’d made for AJ and headed back to the shop. Poor guy was probably famished.

  I walked straight through the bay doors instead of the office and was greeted by a fine ass bent under the hood of a 1998 Ford Fiesta. This particular specimen was not sheathed in Carhart coveralls, which AJ insisted on wearing at the shop. “Can I help you with something?” The ass backed up, and two muscular arms slammed the hood down. When the mystery man turned around, I was greeted by the emerald green eyes of Jameson Tate.

  “Jill, what’s up?” I watched as he wiped his dirty hands on a nearby rag and tossed it to the side. Oh, my gosh, he's so ... dirty. He’d ditched the offensive flannel shirt from earlier, and I was not disappointed seeing what he was hiding underneath it.

  The sleeves of his tee had been ripped off and were replaced by tattoos snaking up each sinewy arm. Pectoral muscles peeked out from the large openings. I stupidly held the sandwich, holding back drool, as he stood there with a thumb hooked in each armhole, his fingers threaded together in front of his thick chest. He looked at me and arched an eyebrow before turning slightly to open the car door.

  “You guys need help here. I offered my services,” he said, answering the question I was having trouble finding the voice to ask. He placed his hand on his taut stomach when he said “services,” and I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what other services those hands might be skilled at performing.

  I regained my composure just in time for AJ to saunter in through the bay doors. “I see you took my advice and hired some help. Thanks for sharing the good news, ass,” I chided, tossing him the sandwich I’d made.

  “Sorry, been busy back here.” He tore a piece of the tinfoil off, exposing one side and took a bite. My brother, ladies and gentlemen, the man of many words. As he swallowed his mouthful and headed for the back of the shop, I took that as my cue to walk away, but when I turned toward the office door I felt the sensation of someone at my back. The hair at the nape of my neck stood up, and my skin prickled with goose bumps again, regardless of the early June heat.

  “Thanks, Jill. I promise I won’t let you guys down.” A colorful arm came out from behind and grabbed the handle to the office door, opening it for me. His chest lightly brushed against my back in the process causing my cheeks to flush and other areas of my body to ignite. A stupid smile snuck across my lips as I walked through the door, hoping he didn’t realize how the simplistic move had such an effect on me.

  Back at my desk, I was finding it hard to concentrate on my work for the second time that day. I needed to focus. On one hand, I was thrilled AJ finally broke down and hired some much-needed help, but on the other, I was finding it increasingly difficult to do the simplest tasks with Jameson around. The man turned me into a bumbling idiot, and I’d been in his presence for all of two minutes.

  A wave of heat crested over my skin. Is that from the temperature or something else? I raked a hand through my long hair then twisted it, securing it with a pen that was lying on the desk.

  With one quick tap of the keyboard, the bouncing screensaver disappeared and the monitor sprang to life. Staring back at me was the photo taken of my dad and me the day of my senior prom that I kept as my background. A long red gown clung to my curves with my hair swept up off my shoulders. It seemed like only yesterday. When I came down from my room, his eyes were wet, and he told me I looked beauti
ful.

  Just as beautiful as my mother, he’d said.

  It was the first time I ever believed him.

  Now the memory was all I had.

  An ear-to-ear grin split the dark beard surrounding his lips, his hair was combed back off his forehead. He seemed so happy and healthy in the picture. It was hard to believe that it was the last one we’d ever take together. Had I known, I might have hugged him a little tighter instead of just standing next to him, plastering on the huge fake grin and hoping my date would come soon. I swallowed the lump that was starting to form in my throat and clicked the icon for the billing software we used.

  Drowning in a sea of purchase orders, I paused only to take phone calls and make appointments here and there. The majority of the afternoon flew by. I stood, stretching my arms to the sky with a yawn. My need for coffee was dire. On my way to the percolator, I caught the sight of AJ and Jameson through the window in the office door, a smile brightening AJ’s face. He was actually laughing at something Jameson had said. It had been so long since I’d seen him look legitimately happy; my heart swelled with so many emotions they were hard to contain. Looking at my brother at that moment, I wondered if Jameson’s sudden appearance was less coincidence and more fate. He was meant to be here.

  JAMESON

  It was getting close to closing time when Jillian marched out of the office. Her hair was all twisted up with a pen stuck in it. Like a little pixie about to blast off the ground and fly around the room. “Jameson, we’re celebrating tonight. You’re coming to dinner at our house, six o’clock!” She didn’t ask me, she told me. Who was I to argue when a girl, especially one as cute as her, demanded I come over to her house?

  I had to admit, I was more than a little eager to get to know her better. Being back here, knowing she was inside that office the whole time; it was hard for me not to go in there and just spend all day with her. It also didn’t help matters that I couldn’t stop wondering how easily I could probably throw that tiny girl around in my bed. The guilt I felt working alongside her brother while having these thoughts made for a very weird first day on the job.