by Jane Anthony
Jameson didn't see me standing there at first. Good Lord, he cleaned up nice. His button-down shirt was rolled up his wiry forearms just enough to see a few bold colors peeking out beneath the black cotton. It followed the contours of his broad chest and fell past his slim waist.
Much like the shirt, his dark jeans fit as if they were made for him. I was never one to swoon over dudes in nice clothes, but even dressed up Jameson still had a ruggedness to him. He was chiseled and strong and walked with a ‘take no shit’ swagger that I ate up with a spoon. I wiggled my fingers in a curt wave, and he smiled when he saw me standing there waiting for him.
“Hey, friend,” he said, coming over to where I stood. “Where’s AJ?”
“He’s inside having a drink at the bar.”
Out of AJ's watchful eye, he placed his palm up on the wall next to my head and leaned close to my ear. The masculine scent of oil and spice assaulted my senses making my knees weak. “Are you trying to kill me or what?” The low baritone of his voice vibrated against my ear and the butterflies returned with a vengeance.
“What do you mean?”
“This dress, those shoes ... how can I be expected to keep my hands off you when you look so fucking hot?” His forehead fell to mine and his fingertips grazed across my collarbone, lightly scratching the skin there. My body trembled, knowing all too well how skilled he was with those calloused fingers.
Our eyes met. The heat radiating between us was enough to melt the restaurant and everyone inside.
“I suppose it’s an exercise in futility then, isn’t it?” I replied.
He placed a kiss on my cheek and took a step back. “Shall we?” I linked my arm inside his waiting elbow.
AJ was leaned against the bar holding a draft beer when Jameson and I found him. “Hey man,” he said greeting Jameson before turning back toward me. “The girl said it should only be a few more minutes.”
The guys talked shop, and a nice man let me have his seat. I was thankful because while my fuck-me pumps were hot, my feet were already starting to hurt.
“Morello, party of three?” the hostess, an amazon-size redhead with legs for days, called above the noise of the bar. AJ raised his hand and left his empty glass on the wooden bar top as we followed her over to our booth. AJ slid in on one side and Jameson sat opposite him. I wasn’t quite sure what the smart move was. I thought what the hell? and picked the seat next to Jameson.
When the waitress came by to take our order, AJ and Jameson ripped on me when they ordered beer and I ordered soda, but it was all in good fun. We ate and laughed and stayed long after our dishes had been cleared away.
The night wore on, and the waitress came by with a fresh beer AJ hadn't ordered. “Looks like you have a fan over there,” she said, pointing at a slutty looking blonde at the bar.
AJ looked at her, then back at us with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Hold my calls,” he joked, getting up from the table and strutting over to the girl, beer in hand. She twirled her over bleached hair and touched his bicep, laughing dramatically at whatever it was he said to her.
“I’m pretty sure we lost AJ,” Jameson said, amused.
“I think you’re right. He always did love the dirty chicks.”
Jameson chuckled and inched a little closer, threading our fingers together under the table. “Never cared for them much myself.”
Distortion came from the corner of the bar area as the band started to get ready to play their set. “Hey, everyone, we’re Second Hand Flannel!” the singer shouted, and the opening chords to a Pearl Jam song started.
“Of course, they’d be alt rock,” I grumbled and made a face. I was a self-imposed musical snob, and, sadly, the Seattle scene did not make the cut. My soul was much older than that and preferred its music raunchier and much less whiny.
Jameson snorted at my blatant distaste for the band. “You’re terrible, you know that?”
“You say terrible, I say righteous and kickass!” I stuck out my tongue and winked.
I behaved myself for the next half hour, taking great pains not to point out the dude singing was actually reading the song lyrics off his iPhone while standing on the stage. AJ and his girl du jour were locked in conversation in the corner of the bar. She’d draped herself over him like a cheap suit, but he looked so happy that it made me happy by default.
Jameson's glass sat empty in front of him. Our tab was long since cashed out and the waitress was nowhere in sight. “I'm going to go up for another beer. You want another Coke?”
I shook my head and went in search of the ladies’ room. There was a line. Of course. Maybe I was a horrible voice for my gender, but it always amazed me how long girls took in the bathroom. I mean, how long does it possibly take to pee and wash your hands?
The line moved as slow as peeling linoleum, but I finally made it inside and did my business before I burst used Coca-Cola all over the walls. After washing my hands, I slipped out of the ladies’ room and was bumped by someone trying to go in. I stumbled on my too high heels and fell into another trashy looking blonde loitering in the hallway. The place was filled with them. "Excuse you," said the girl in what I'm sure was the bitchiest tone she could muster.
Righting myself, I turned to apologize, but words escaped me when I saw who she was with. Jameson's back was against the wall, and his arms were around Miss White Trash USA. "Excuse me," was the only thing my stunned brain could come up with to say.
I moved as fast as my heels would let me go. The place was packed, and I suddenly felt like I was going to suffocate from the confinement. I flew toward AJ and found him in the same spot with his girl. "AJ, I'm tired and this band sucks, give me the keys." I shoved my hand out, and he looked down at it confused.
Jameson was caught up in the thick horde of people standing around like cattle. Being able to sneak through crowds was one of the few times being little had an advantage. "Look, you can catch a ride with Jameson. Just give me the keys and let me go."
He fished them out of his pocket and dropped them in my hand. “I’ll see you at home.”
"Thanks," I shouted, as I made a beeline for the door.
My heels clacked along the concrete on my way to the truck. Jameson burst through the doors into the parking lot right behind me. “Jillian, wait! Stop running from me.”
“It’s okay, Jameson. We’re cool. We never talked about being exclusive or anything, and I’m sure it’s nice to be able to have a girl you don’t have to hide, so no hard feelings on my part,” I said, trying to sound apathetic as I opened the door and jumped in the seat. “Make sure AJ gets home safe. I don’t want him catching the clap from Linda Lovelace in there.” I slammed the door shut before he could say anything else and hit the lock.
“Jillian, c’mon!” He tried the door handle, but I turned the key and threw the truck in reverse, almost running over his feet as I skidded out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell. I peeked in my rearview mirror and saw him walking back into the bar.
“Don’t cry, don’t you dare cry,” I said to myself. I cranked up the volume on the radio and tried to concentrate on anything else besides his hands on her skanky back. I was gone for, what, twenty minutes max, and he’d already found someone else? That shit has to be a record or something.
I peeled into the driveway praying there was beer in the fridge and cursing the fact that I had to see that jerk again on Monday. What we were doing wasn’t technically dating, but I couldn’t believe he would actually pick up someone else right under my nose.
Storming into the house, I kicked off my shoes taking my aggression out on them. They bounced off the wall and landed in a pile next to my sneakers. I wasn’t even as angry with Jameson as I was at my own naïvety. All his sweet talk was nothing but that — just talk, but I fell for it.
I ran upstairs and stripped off my dress before I even got to my room. A few hours ago, it was the nicest thing I owned, but now, I just wanted to light the damn thing on fire. My dad’s old Dio tee was mor
e my speed. I threw it on and went back downstairs to check out the beer situation. There were three left. I could work with that. I grabbed all of them, then parked myself on the couch hoping some mindless television would help relax me.
The sound of the front door woke me up. I was somewhere between awake and asleep and couldn’t decipher if the heavy footsteps I heard were real or a dream. The blaring television became abruptly quiet. My eyes fluttered open, and I saw my brother tiptoeing toward the stairs. “AJ?”
He turned to face me. “Hey, Jill, I’m sorry I woke you. I didn’t think you’d be on the couch.”
I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. It was daylight out. “Are you just getting home? What time is it?”
AJ looked at his watch. “It’s about nine a.m.”
A sleepy smile curled along my lips. “Well, the bars close at two, so I guess this means you scored.”
He looked at the carpet and scratched his head uncomfortably. “Yeah, well, what can I say? The ladies love me.”
“Gross. Come sit by me.” I yawned. He obeyed, coming to sit on the couch next to me. My legs curled up and my head rested on his shoulder. I missed the old AJ so much and I loved being able to catch this glimpse of him, short lived as it might be. “How’d Jameson do? Did Spray Tan Barbie have a sister?”
The deep rumble of his laugh vibrated in his chest. “No, Jameson left shortly after you did.”
I sat up straight. “He did? Alone?”
“Yeah. Said he was ready to call it a night. Asked if I wanted a ride but Morgan had already offered to give me one.”
“I bet she did,” I said, snorting at my own lame joke. AJ just rolled his eyes and stood up.
“Glad to see you amuse yourself. I’m going to bed.”
“All right, Fabio. Try not to get accosted by the ladies on your way up the stairs,” I called after him. He dropped his face into his hand quick and ran up the stairs to go to sleep.
Jameson went home alone. Well, that’s interesting. My palms reached toward the ceiling, stretching my sore muscles as I got off the couch. Knowing he didn’t go home with the bathroom skank made me feel better, but I was still angry with the way everything went down last night. I needed to be smarter about things. This was a good thing actually. It’s better I found out before I got too attached. Now, I didn’t have to worry about AJ finding out anymore. I’d gotten it completely out of my system. At least, that was what I told myself as I walked into the kitchen in pursuit of a morning coffee.
JAMESON
I sat in my car at Morello and Son’s on Monday morning watching the clock. It was ten after eight, and she hadn’t arrived yet. I had to talk to her. I wanted to go to her house after I left R&B’s on Saturday, but I didn’t want to risk AJ coming home and catching me there. That wouldn’t have been good at all. If I had her number, I could have called her, but I wanted to talk to her face to face. The girl had the worst possible timing.
My gaze rolled toward the clock again. 8:20. Shit. She wasn’t coming, was she? One hand raked through my hair while the other flicked at the stations on the radio. I messed this up. How could Jillian think I’d screw around with that piece of bar trash when I had her? There was no comparison between her and that chick she saw me with. She was a ten.
8:30. Dammit! My fist came down on the steering wheel. I was annoyed she didn’t come early today and angry with myself for not having tried to talk to her sooner. I got out of the car and paced around in the parking lot in a vain attempt to stop stalking the clock. She would get there when she got there, and I’d talk to her. That was all there was to it. I kicked the gravel and sat on the trunk of the car.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the time again. 8:45. The office was opening in fifteen minutes; she should be coming any second. I jumped off my car and walked over to the front door of the shop. Keys tinkled and gravel crunched and my heart started hammering in my chest. “You missed our date,” I said as she came around the corner.
“The fuck I did.” She stood there glaring daggers at me, her arms crossed over her chest. “That ship has sailed, pretty boy.”
“I’m sorry. It was a bad joke.” I put my hands up in surrender. “Listen to me, Jillian. Saturday night was a case of bad timing, that’s all.”
“You don’t need to explain yourself to me, friend. We had a little fun, but it’s over now. Let’s move on and go about our lives, m’kay?”
“Fuck that noise. That’s bullshit and you know it.” She flinched but held onto her resolve. She was a tough bitch. It was one of my favorite things about her. “I went to the bathroom looking for you. When I got there, your clumsy ass ricocheted off a fat chick and pushed that girl into me. That’s it.”
“Oh, yeah? How convenient! Can you explain why your arms were around her when I found you?” She pursed her lips and quirked her brow.
“I grabbed the girl just before she hit the ground. It was a reflex, nothing more. You stormed away so fast you didn’t even have time to see the girl’s boyfriend come up and grab her away from me. I almost got my ass kicked, I swear.”
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “I admit it’s a plausible story, but why don’t we just cut to the part where this eventually goes sour.” She volleyed her finger back and forth between the two of us. “You know as well as I do that this can’t last. Especially now that the business is doing so well. We can’t risk AJ finding out about us and going ballistic. I need you in the shop more than I need you in my bed.”
I moved closer to her calling her bluff. The fact that she didn’t doubt my explanation, and she shouldn’t ‘cause it was true, told me all I needed to know. “You may need me in the shop, but you know you want me in your bed just as badly as I want to be there. Admit it, Jillian. Tell me right now that you don’t lie awake at night thinking about me, and I’ll walk into that shop and pretend anything you want me to pretend. I’ll be your buddy during the day, do my job, and go home at night silently remembering the way your perfume clouds my brain, the way your smile lights up your face, and the way your breathy little moans sound just before you’re about to come. Is that what you want, Jillian? Tell me. What’s it gonna be?”
She looked up at me studying my face. She was trying her best to appear unflappable, but I could see it in her eyes. The fire. I could read it in her body language. The way she squeezed her thighs together when she thought I didn’t notice. She was burning up just as much as I was.
We were mere inches apart. It was now or never. “Perhaps, you need a reminder.” My lips crashed into hers with fury. Her hands came up to my face; I grabbed her ass and pulled her in tighter. It was crazy, AJ would literally be there any minute, but I couldn’t go another whole day without touching her.
“You’re right. I want you more than anything, but I’m scared, Jameson. I’m so scared.” She placed little kisses all over my face then came back to my mouth.
“I’m never ever going to hurt you, Jillian. Look at me.” I pulled away so she could see my face. She looked into my eyes; inside hers was a storm cloud of worry and lust combined. I said it again to make sure she heard what I was trying to say. “I’m never going to hurt you. Understand?” She nodded, and I pressed my lips to her forehead. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” I hugged her tightly then let go before AJ caught us for real.
Chapter Fourteen
JILLIAN
The guy with the ‘57 Corvette was scheduled to drop the car off on Friday mid-morning. Jameson and AJ worked like madmen all week to clear as much time in their schedules as possible to make room for the car in the shop.
Keeping with our routine, I opened the office on Friday at eight. I wasn’t sure if Jameson would be coming or not, but the thought of him sitting there waiting for me made me too antsy to stay home. AJ got home late last night, and I was sure he and Jameson worked the entire time to prepare. I pulled out my chair and a hot pink sticky note was stuck to the seat covered in my fav
orite writing of all time.
There was a young guy with a Ford
He worked with a girl he adored
She was the star of his dreams
Sometimes dirty in themes
Because finding time alone together was hard
I miss you, cutie. Meet me at the pipeline tonight at 8:00.
With a sigh and a smile, I folded the silly poem and shoved it in my pocket. He left me a note, which means he wasn't coming this morning, but at least we’d get to spend some time together tonight. I definitely missed him too and couldn’t wait to see him for more than five minutes in passing.
Around ten o’clock, a beat-up old Corvette sputtered into the lot followed by another car. Probably the guy’s ride home. He was old, about sixty or so. I watched through the window as AJ walked out the bay doors to greet him. They talked out by the car for a long time then he gave AJ the keys and walked toward the office. The door buzzed as he walked in.
“Hello, dear,” said the older man upon entering. He had an English accent and smelled of expensive cologne. “Mr. Morello sent me in to give you my contact information and leave a deposit for the work to be done on my car.”
“Sure, no problem,” I said smiling politely. A few clicks of my mouse, and the customer management software I used graced the screen in front of me. He and I did the usual dance back and forth, me asking questions and him answering them. When all was said and done, Randall Johnson III handed me the fattest deposit check I'd ever seen.
“Surely, you aren’t old enough to be employed here regularly. You look like you should still attend high school,” Mr. Johnson said as he took his receipt.
“Oh, well, thank you, sir. I actually graduated last year.” I clipped a copy of the receipt onto the work order to keep everything together. “Okay, Mr. Johnson, you’re all set. We will be in touch with you when your engine rebuild is complete.”