by Dee Tenorio
Cass decided Amanda was the most fun she’d had since she got pregnant.
The auburn-haired landscaper held a sweating glass of lemonade in one hand and the bottom curve of her swollen belly in the other. She said she had come along with her father and brother to “oversee” the installation of a sprinkler system in Amanda’s front yard, but really Cass was more interested in the goings-on between Amanda and Cole that had everyone in town talking nonstop.
That tended to happen when the guy who was known for never having more than a date or two with the same woman started telling everyone he knew that you were his girlfriend.
Also happened when you were “The Girl on the Cover”.
Just thinking about it made Amanda want to roll her eyes.
“You have six brothers who will turn themselves inside out to do anything you could ever possibly need, without blackmail I might add, but you’re turning yourself inside out all alone because you want to learn how to do everything on your own.”
“It sounds dumb when you put it like that,” Amanda answered, tightening a joint in the PVC pipes. Satisfied with the fit, she leaned back on her hands in the late August sunshine. All around her, the grass had been torn up in a specific grid pattern, pipes filling the three-inch-wide furrows, exactly as Eddie Bishop—Cass’s father—had directed. The older man was currently connecting that piping to the timer system he’d set up next to the front porch. Silently. Thoroughly ignoring his children.
“Most things sound dumb when Cassie says ’em,” Hayne Bishop chimed in from his spot a few feet away, proving again why his father had developed selective hearing. His black hair was a little long, with a nice wave, and his hazel eyes gleamed with unholy joy at messing with his sister.
“Maybe it would make a little more sense to me, jackass, if you’d ever been interested in doing anything for me like her brothers do for her.” Cass rubbed her belly, her smile extra visible despite the huge black sunglasses on her face and the ridiculously wide sunhat on her head.
“Hey, I cooked for your ungrateful ass for years,” Hayne argued. “And you ate like three moose getting ready for hibernation.”
“Moose don’t hibernate, moron.”
Amanda put her head down, determined not to laugh. The siblings had spent the last two days of this sprinkler project arguing over anything from the right grid of sprinklers to use for the shape of her cottage to the color of the cape on a cartoon character. They could probably argue over the taste of oxygen if they put their minds to it.
“Cole came up with the idea of bartering for lessons to things,” Amanda interjected before she learned way too much about moose. “It’s worked out really well.”
“Tell me about it—Burke’s so in love with his new POS he almost doesn’t come home at night.”
“I heard he’s been staying late because he eats at the garage before he goes home now,” Hayne added. “Something about making sure he gets enough of a serving, since you’re eating for six these days.”
“I’m only having one kid, Hayne.”
“Who said anything about the kid?”
Amanda decided to ignore the clump of dirt that flew from the wheelbarrow to the man with the shovel. The swearing and spitting was a little harder to tune out, but she figured if Eddie could do it, so could she.
”Who else are you bartering with?” Cass took a sip of her lemonade as if she hadn’t just clobbered her brother in the mouth. Cass had set up this particular trade for Amanda because her father had wanted a deal for his wife at the Suite Shoppe after Cass told him about Amanda and Cole’s deal with Burke. Eddie hadn’t been comfortable asking her himself, which made Amanda want to give him the discount just for being cute. In the end, they’d settled on installing a sprinkler to her yard for his end of the trade—provided Eddie taught her how to use it—and she’d give Lola her employee discount for a year. Most of the other barters, she was pleased to say, she’d arranged on her own, which made them even sweeter.
“A couple of people, actually. Burke kind of recommended a few people who might be interested in trading some work. Jess Gartner, Hal Lewis from off Birch Street, Old Ben, the Whittakers—”
Cass choked on her drink. “Please tell me no one suckered you into teaching Miranda to cook.”
Amanda smiled back, knowing too well why Cass was laughing. “Actually, the lessons are coming along nicely.” Only two small fires and one melted kitchen tile.
Cass straightened. “You’re kidding!”
She wasn’t. The last two months had been full in ways Amanda almost couldn’t believe, and most of that came from these bartering sessions. She’d learned to change a tire correctly, keep track of her car’s fluids and understand the signals it would give her if anything went wrong. She now knew the basics of how an engine worked, and Burke was starting her on the finer points of understanding a carburetor.
Hal Lewis, God bless him, had helped her finally fix the various plumbing leaks throughout her house and taught her what to do if they gave her any more problems, all for the easy trade of a few pies. Jess Gartner, a retired repairman Burke knew, had been willing to trade some basic home repair lessons for embroidering touch-ups on his late wife’s couch pillows. Which meant changing fuses no longer had her worried about electrocution.
The most fun had been teaching Miranda Whittaker to make delicious—and safe—fried chicken. Miranda’s husband, Josh, a firefighter at the local engine house, came to Amanda’s house to help her set up fire and carbon monoxide sensors in every room. He’d just about had kittens when he found all the loose and occasionally ancient wiring in her house. It had required more than a few trips on his part to get it all fixed to his specifications, and she’d taken nearly a notebook full of notes on the off chance he’d missed something she’d have to fix herself. Not that he minded terribly, since each visit meant more cooking lessons for his wife.
The best part of trading with the Whittakers was their twin daughters. In a lot of ways, they reminded her of the younger twins when they were little. Only unlike Steven and Peter, the adorable little redheads could find trouble like bloodhounds. They had offered all their father’s cleaning and organizing skills for anything Amanda might want if she could get their mama to make a pie that wasn’t black. Or crunchy. Her ears always throbbed for a solid hour after visiting, from their shrieks of glee as they played in the backyard, kitchen, living room and the hall at top volume and top speed. But Amanda’s sides were always sore from laughing by the time she’d made her way home.
Someday, she’d always promised herself. Someday, she’d have a family of her own. Her house would be full of those kinds of shrieks of happiness. It was so tempting, when she spent time with Cole, to wonder if someday wasn’t as far away as she’d once believed…
“Miranda was kind of upset when we didn’t have anything else to trade. She’s finally doing well, so I told her I’d just keep working with her. She says if I think of anything else that needs fixing here at the house, she can make Josh teach me how to do it.”
Cass cracked up. “She will too. That woman has a way of getting folks to do anything she wants, so you just watch out with that one.”
“Actually,” Amanda added, trying her best not to grin, “Burke was so impressed after hearing from Josh that he asked me to give you a few lessons too.”
“Bastard,” Cass replied dryly, but there was a smile on her face. “If I’ve told him once, I’ve told him a thousand times, I’m not about to do the barefoot-and-pregnant-in-the-kitchen thing—I don’t care how funny he thinks it would be.”
“He probably thinks it’d be a frickin’ miracle,” Hayne interjected as he tapped her shoulder to get her off the wheelbarrow. The siblings gave each other a hard time, but Amanda could see the affection in it. Especially when Hayne took her hand to steady her as she got to her feet. Cass’s presence was purely for conversation rather than any expectation she’d be doing physical work. And though she’d griped about Hayne never doing much fo
r her, between her brother and her father, she’d really only been allowed to get her own lemonade. From the looks of it, she loved every second of the pampering too.
Amanda didn’t want to wonder too much about what her own situation would be if she ever had kids. Her brothers would probably lose their minds trying to cushion her from the pressure of the atmosphere. Lemonade pouring would likely be on a list of things deemed too dangerous for incubating females.
“Can I help it if my baby likes pizza, Hayne? It just means he’s got good taste, like his mommy.” She rubbed her belly, her face brightening as she opened her mouth to say something else.
“No,” Hayne growled, cutting her off neatly. “None of us are interested in hearing you complain about having heartburn up to your eyeballs, thank you very much. Why don’t you eat that salad Sally packed up?”
“Because it’s disgusting.” Even with the huge sunglasses and the giant brimmed hat obscuring Cass’s face, Amanda could see her scrunched expression. “Whoever heard of mixing pine nuts and vegetables into Jell-O?”
“Too bad. If that crap is supposed to be healthy for me, it should be healthy for your evil spawn.”
Cass pouted, but her brother just rolled his eyes and pushed the wheelbarrow over to the other side of the lawn to start filling the canals now that the pipes were in place.
“Have you tried Alfredo pizza?” Amanda asked, getting up and dusting off her butt. “The cream sauce is supposed to be better for heartburn, and they put veggies on it if you want. I can call in an order—I’m hungry now too.”
Cass’s jaw dropped, and Hayne froze.
“What?” Amanda asked, wondering if she’d done something wrong. It looked like it, the way Hayne sighed.
“Oh, nothing. You just gave her the excuse she needs to get off the diet Burke has planned out.” He went back to his shoveling. “Might as well go in there and order—the girl is a pizza addict.”
“It’s only an addiction if you can’t stop something. I don’t want to stop. There’s a difference.” Cass hooked her arm around Amanda’s and pulled her toward the house. “He’s just cranky because Sally’s on a health kick, and he hasn’t had grease in three months. His poor little soul is shriveling, isn’t it, Hayney?”
“At least my waistline doesn’t require me to butter up so I can get into my house,” her brother called without looking up from his shoveling.
Cass stopped tugging Amanda to snap, “Oh my God, that happened one time! One!”
“You two are insane.” Amanda laughed, using their linked arms to pull Cass to the porch. “You know that, right?”
“Oh, like you don’t have your own issues, Miss Ran-Away-From-Home-Like-It-Was-On-Fire. I seem to remember something about you and your brothers starting a food fight at last year’s Fourth of July Jubilee.”
“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it. Brothers have it coming most of the time.” Amanda opened the door to the house and held it for her guest.
“Especially mine.” Cass dropped her giant hat on the porch and lifted her sunglasses to the top of her head as she entered, waiting politely until Amanda could lead her into the kitchen. Once there, she settled into the wooden chair at the kitchenette table and sighed. She relaxed quietly while Amanda made the call for food, making sure to request more than enough for the men outside as well. If there was anything left over, she was sure Cole would eat it with her over a movie or something.
He face warmed at the thought of that. They spent most evenings together now. They had since he’d all but dragged her out of the Suite Shoppe all those weeks ago. Sometimes they got together for dinner and she told him all about her latest barter. Or they played on the game system he insisted she had to have for late-night online games. Or they pretended to watch one of his endless supply of cult classics, when really they were both just waiting to pounce on each other.
He’d been as good as his word about those steps leading to her bed. He’d said she’d feel made love to before she ever got there and to a degree, she did. Cole kissed her, stroked her, held her, until she was sure she’d melt right out of his arms. Anticipation was a beat in her blood every second of every day, like an unending throb of need. And why was that?
Because the man had yet to let her have her way with him.
And not for lack of her trying. She’d tried. She’d tempted. She’d cajoled. A few times, she’d nearly demanded, but her virginity was disgustingly intact, and no matter how she’d argued that some debauchery was in order, he preferred to go home walking funny, cussing Locke’s name under his breath, and leaving her to stew in her own frustration.
So, she had dates. She had plenty of them, just as promised. Dates with kisses and hand-holding and laughter and fun. Just not sex. Everyone saw them together just about every day. Publicly, they were most definitely a couple. But the private nights, when he’d come over to find out what she’d learned or just to be with her… She still wasn’t sure what to make of those.
Were they playing a game? If so, what were the rules? See who could tempt the other best? For everything she did to tempt him physically, he’d turn it around and tempt her with emotions she was sure he couldn’t possibly feel. What man really saw a miniskirt and thought, this would be a great time to talk to my date about sharing our hopes and dreams?
Just Cole.
Worse, she had yet to win a point. She always got sucked into his distractions, his delays.
To the point where she was starting to wonder if to him…maybe this wasn’t a game.
It was almost as if his day just wasn’t complete if she wasn’t part of it, and she was getting close to the same way. Not a good idea for a girl waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Bottom line, this wasn’t the Cole she knew. This Cole looked at her as if just being with her made him…content. She had no idea what to make of that, because Cole was never content with anything. He always strove to improve whatever he encountered. To make his mark on it.
The only mark he had made on her was the one on her heart because it wanted to let him in. She just couldn’t afford to let it happen. How would she pull herself back together when he said it was over? She hated the niggling voice in the back of her mind, more now than ever. It had gotten quieter over the last couple of months—some days she didn’t hear it at all. But times like now, when she was tempted to believe Cole’s passion for her might be real, it reared its ugly head and twisted her insides until she thought she might be filled with knots.
He’s a commitment-phobe.
He’s only doing what he was told.
You still have no idea what Locke is holding over him…
Most of the time, she could ignore those first two. Lots of people avoided commitment…until they didn’t. And she seriously doubted Locke would tell Cole to turn her into his panting sex slave in training. It was almost to the point where she needed to change her panties every time she heard his voice now. He kissed her—slow, devastating explorations of her lips and neck and ears, his hands learning every inch of her back and hips. And he let her explore him, let her trace the muscles and textures of his chest, arms and hands. But it never went further. The second she made any effort to push past his invisible line…he escaped. Literally set her back and all but ran for the door.
The temptation to try the handcuff trick on his wrist for real was getting overwhelming.
Or maybe that crowbar she’d mentioned to Susie.
Definitely the crowbar.
For two months, she’d been patient. She’d gone along with his crawling pace because being with him made her happy. Too happy. Even when they did nothing but eat together. She could be quiet with him. So quiet and easy that it would be tempting to forget how all of it had come about.
But like a rock in her shoe, she just couldn’t get past it.
What did Locke have that had turned her sometimes-distant friend into an excruciatingly patient lover? She needed to know. Cole wasn’t with her because he wanted to be. Because
he chose to be. The more time she spent with him, the more she fell under the spell of his gaze, his seduction, his caring and his friendship, the sharper that rock became. If she didn’t put an end to this soon, it was going to cut, and she didn’t know if she could survive that kind of wound.
“Uh-oh, what put that look on your face?”
Amanda jolted out of her thoughts, finding herself pinioned by a very curious, sloe-eyed stare from Cass. “What look?”
“The one that went from delirious to miserable in zero-point-three seconds. And don’t try to tell me it had anything to do with pizza either. I know man trouble when I see it.”
Cass probably did. The whole town was well aware of Cass’s unhappy first relationship with Luke Hanson. The guy had left her at the altar with a note claiming he was gay. And that was after years of an on-again, off-again relationship in the first place. In the end, Cass had married Burke, her lifelong best friend, instead. If the rumors were true, that hadn’t been the easiest road to the altar either, though everyone in town knew Burke was possibly the most devoted husband on the planet. Cranky, but devoted.
“Not trouble, exactly,” she admitted. She didn’t know Cass nearly well enough to divulge the whole convoluted mess, but the other woman had a definite understanding of men making her crazy. “Just…frustration, I guess.”
“Cole, huh?” Cass’s eyes glittered with mirth. “I wouldn’t have taken him as a guy big on living with…frustration.”
Amanda leaned on her other hand and smiled. No one would, if they’d only known the slicker, confident, post-high school Cole, who had grown into a masculinity that was rivaled only by his keen intelligence. Women enjoyed talking to him, and since they had started coming his way in college, he enjoyed letting them. She’d hated every single one she had the misfortune to see him with. None of them had looked…frustrated. “Neither had I.”