Guilt added warmth to her invitation. “Do you have time for lunch?”
Ernie’s was doing a booming lunchtime business, but they lucked out and arrived just as a booth was being vacated. Lurene waved at them but didn’t come out from behind the counter. Buddy Holly was declaring his love for Peggy Sue, and the scent of onion rings, beef and chili floated on the air. Jessie glanced around, waved to her high-school math teacher and noted, with considerable satisfaction, that the glass-domed cake trays that held the desserts she’d brought in the day before were almost empty.
She slid into the booth opposite Dana and reached for one of the menus tucked between the chrome napkin dispenser and the wall. She’d been surprised when Dana suggested Ernie’s. Somehow Dana McKinnon, former almost-Miss-America, didn’t seem like an Ernie’s kind of girl, but she settled back against the turquoise cushion of the booth and opened the shiny red menu as if she was perfectly at home here. And when the waitress showed up to take their order, Dana surprised her again by ordering a cheeseburger with the works, rather than the salad with no dressing Jessie had expected.
“If you tell me that you’re one of those people who never have to watch what they eat, I’m going to have to hurt you,” Jessie commented after the waitress walked away.
Dana looked startled and then smiled, her blue eyes holding an unexpected glint of mischief. “StairMaster,” she said, reaching for one of the twisty bread sticks the waitress had brought them. “I’m a slave to the Stair-Master. I’ll pay for this lunch with an extra twenty minutes of torture every day for the next week.”
“That’s good, because I’d hate to have to commit violence in front of all these witnesses.”
Suggesting lunch had been an impulse, and Jessie had immediately wondered if she would regret it. Though she’d known Dana for five years, they’d never really spent any time together, not just the two of them. Wouldn’t it be ironic if, just as she was starting to think she’d let jealousy blind her to the other woman’s good qualities, she discovered that she really didn’t like her?
But that wasn’t the case. Dana turned out to be surprisingly easy to talk to. They shared a love of old movies. Dana didn’t share Jessie’s fondness for Bogart films, but you couldn’t have everything, and she did like Preston Sturges films and musicals. They laughed over scenes they’d both enjoyed, and Dana proved to have an amazing memory for lyrics. When the lunch-hour frenzy began to taper off, Lurene wandered over and leaned against the end of the booth, and the conversation switched to the possibility of an outlet mall being built just outside the city limits and what it might mean to the local businesses.
Lunch out with the girls, Jessie found herself thinking at one point. Lunch out with friends. Lurene was already a good friend, and, though the idea still amazed her, she was starting to think that she and Dana might get there. Had she really been so shallow that she’d let jealousy completely blind her to the kind of person Dana really was? She almost wanted to apologize to the other woman, but what could she say? Gee, sorry I thought you were a shallow ice princess? Not exactly the way to further a new friendship. Best to just move on from here.
They’d finished their hamburgers and were waiting for the check when Jessie’s attention was caught by the couple sitting at a table near the front window. They looked to be in their twenties, both wearing blue jeans and heavy sweaters that looked enough alike to make her wonder if they’d been chosen deliberately to emphasize their couple-ness. But the majority of her attention was for the infant sitting in a high chair pulled up to the table, clutching a spoon in one tiny fist, waving it aimlessly in the air.
Looking at that bright, smiling little face, Jessie felt her heart melting in her chest. Next year she would be the one trying to juggle feeding herself and a baby at the same time. She wouldn’t be able to leave the house without loading herself down with diaper bags and car seats—all the paraphernalia that came with having a child.
“Cute kid,” Dana commented, following the direction of her gaze.
“Adorable.” Jessie struggled to keep her smile from turning goofy. Maybe she wasn’t entirely successful.
“Are you and Matt thinking about having a family?” Dana asked casually.
Jessie dragged her attention away from the family. For just a moment she was tempted to blurt out that they’d made it past the thinking stage, but she wanted to share the news with Matt first. Then she would take out a full-page ad in the newspaper. She nodded.
“We’re planning on it.”
“That’s nice.” Dana’s smile took on a wistful edge. “I used to think I’d like to have children, but it didn’t work out that way.”
“You’re not too old to start now,” Jessie said, startled to realize that she felt comfortable enough to say anything at all. “There’s a lot of time left on your biological clock. And Reilly would make a wonderful father.”
My God, I’m actually urging her to have Reilly’s baby. Jessie looked away, a little shaken by the realization that the idea didn’t bother her. So I’m bothered by the fact that I’m not bothered. What’s wrong with this picture?
“You and Reilly should…um…talk about it,” she muttered uncomfortably and could have fallen on the waitress’s neck with relief when she arrived with the check.
Jessie slid the pie out of the oven and carried it over to the cast-iron trivet waiting on the counter. She stepped back and smiled. Perfect. The meringue towered over the chocolate filling, graceful dips and swirls tinted a delicate tan from the oven’s heat. Chocolate meringue was one of Matt’s favorites. She had a brisket cooking at a low temperature in the second oven, smothered with mushrooms and thinly sliced onions, and two potatoes scrubbed and ready to go into the oven the pie had just come out of. Some broccoli, steamed and then stir-fried with a little olive oil and a lot of garlic, and they would have what she thought of as a classic “guy” meal.
Matt had spent the last fifteen years traveling all over the world, eating exotic foods—he swore he’d actually eaten grubs once, she remembered with a shudder—but at heart he was a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy. He loved whatever she put in front of him, but give him a slab of beef and a baked potato and he was content, which was why she’d decided on plain comfort foods for tonight instead of going with her first impulse, which had been for something more elaborate involving shellfish, exotic and highly expensive ingredients, and every pan in the cupboard.
She glanced at the clock. Matt’s schedule was flexible, but he made it a point to call her if he was going to be at Gabe’s much past five o’clock. It was five-fifteen now, and he hadn’t called, so he would be home soon. If she put the potatoes in now, that would give him time to shower and change clothes and relax for a few minutes before dinner was ready. They usually ate in the kitchen, but she’d set the dining-room table, using her grandmother’s china and silver. He was sure to ask her what the special occasion was, arching one brow in that way that always made her want to jump his bones.
Her plan was to draw out the suspense, to enjoy his curiosity and savor the anticipation as long as possible, but she knew herself well enough to know that there was a distinct possibility she was going to throw herself at him before he was halfway through the front door and blurt out the news that they were going to have a baby. Well, either way was good, she decided, smiling so hard that it made her face hurt.
The mellow chime of the doorbell made her jump. She wasn’t expecting anyone, which meant it was probably someone selling either discount coupons for a local dry cleaner or the one true path to eternal salvation. She wasn’t in the market for either one, but, tonight, she was feeling mellow enough that she didn’t mind listening to either sales pitch.
“Reilly!” Her smile widened from polite to delighted.
“Hey.” He returned her quick hug as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him. “Hope you don’t mind me dropping by. I’m doing a remodel a couple of blocks away, and they keep changing their minds on everything, so I was just
over there trying to get them to commit to one thing or another before my foreman lands in jail for homicide.”
“You know you’re always welcome.” Jessie squeezed his hand between hers for a moment, warm affection in her voice. “You want a cup of coffee?”
“Sounds great.” Reilly followed her into the kitchen, shrugging out of his jacket. “Weather report says rain tonight, but, from the way the temperature dropped this afternoon, I’m thinking snow.”
“Sure.” Jessie shot him an amused look as she poured coffee into a mug featuring a row of puffins marching around it. “And then we’ll know hell really has frozen over.”
“We get snow now and again.” Reilly took the mug from her, cupping his hands around it to absorb the heat.
“I’ve lived in this town twenty years, and I’ve seen snow once. And even then, it was barely enough to deserve the name.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Reilly muttered. “It really is cold out there.”
“Face it, McKinnon, you’re a weather wimp.” Jessie gave him a look of friendly disgust. “Anytime the temperature drops below sixty, you start whining.”
“I do not,” he whined, and they both laughed.
Jessie started to pour herself a cup of coffee, remembered that she had to start avoiding caffeine and set the mug down again.
“What?” Reilly cocked his brow, making her realize that she was standing there smiling for no reason.
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “Just something I thought of. So, tell me about these wishy-washy clients.”
Reilly looked as though he might press for a better answer, then shrugged and started talking. Jessie listened with half an ear, catching bits and pieces of changed tile colors, one bathroom that became two, a kitchen that grew and shrank on a more or less daily basis, and a couple who couldn’t understand why adding another hundred square feet to the children’s playroom should cost anything additional. She made the appropriate comments, but her mind was mostly elsewhere.
He was leaning back against the counter, his long legs stretched out in front of him, feet crossed at the ankles, his hands cupped around the mug. It was a familiar pose, one she’d seen both him and Matt take more times than she could remember. His dark blond hair was a little tousled, falling onto his forehead in a thick wave. That was familiar, too. How many times had she wished she had the right to brush that lock of hair back into place, to run her hands through his hair, feel the thickness of it slide between her fingers?
She’d been sixteen when she first realized that her feelings for him were more than friendship, and those feeling had grown and deepened over the years, a constant ache in her heart. And now she was looking at him and feeling…what? She frowned a little, trying to put a name to what she was feeling. Affection, certainly. Love, of course. He was one of her best friends. But the ache wasn’t there. Jessie pressed her hand over her heart, rubbing a little as if searching for that familiar hurt.
When had it gone away? It had been there five years ago, a bright, hard lump in her chest as she’d watched him exchange his vows with Dana. And since then? It was hard to remember. It wasn’t as if she’d ever allowed herself to dwell on her feelings for him. They’d just always been there.
Hadn’t they?
“Hey. Earth to Jessie.” Reilly snapped his fingers in front of her face, making her realize that she’d completely lost track of what he was saying and had been standing there staring at him as if she’d never seen him before.
“Sorry.” She shook herself a little and conjured up a smile. “I didn’t mean to zone out on you.”
“That’s okay. The Carlsons are enough to cause brain fade in anyone.” He sipped his coffee and gave her a curious look. “You looked like you were thinking pretty hard about something.”
Jessie felt a quick little flutter of panic, as if he might somehow be able to guess what had been in her mind just by looking at her. She smiled and shrugged. “Nothing in particular. I had lunch with Dana today,” she added, groping for a change of subject.
“Did you?” Reilly’s expression shifted, something flickering in his eyes, a look of…pain that made her heart clench. Her own confusion was pushed aside. She reached out, setting her hand on his arm.
“What’s wrong?”
Reilly stared down at her hand, feeling something tight and hard in his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched him so easily. Dana used to touch him all the time, a quick, light brush of her hand on his shoulder as she walked by, a barely-there stroke of her fingers against his face. It had been so long that he’d almost forgotten what it felt like. His fingers knotted around the coffee cup, his other hand coming up to cover Jessie’s, pressing her closer.
“We’ve been friends a long time, Reilly. Tell me what’s wrong.”
He brought his eyes up to hers, reading the compassion there. For just an instant he was tempted to do just that, to tell her that he’d destroyed his marriage, but he didn’t want to see that compassion turn to contempt.
“It’s nothing. Nothing I can talk about,” he amended, catching her disbelieving look.
She hesitated, teeth worrying her lower lip. “Look, I know it’s none of my business, and I’m not trying to pry but it’s pretty obvious that you and Dana…that something’s… Blast.” Her breath huffed out in a quick, exasperated sigh. “You just…maybe you need to talk to each other, Reilly. I know it sounds simplistic, but it really is important in a marriage.”
“And you’re speaking from your vast experience of a whole two months of marriage?” he asked, cocking one brow.
“Almost three,” she corrected, primming her mouth in a way that made him smile despite himself.
“Ah. Well, that extra month certainly takes you well beyond amateur status,” he said, taking hold of a lock of her hair and giving it a quick, teasing little tug.
“I’m due for my professional-married-person badge next week,” she said, and his smile widened.
She looked so serious, but her eyes were laughing. With her hair tumbling on her shoulders and her face flushed from the warmth in the kitchen, she looked really cute. No, actually, she was more than cute. She was pretty. It was odd that he’d never noticed that before. He’d known Jessie most of her life, but he’d never realized how pretty she was.
He brushed his finger across her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin. Without thinking, his hand shifted to cup the back of her neck. He saw Jessie’s eyes widen, endless golden-brown pools. She was so warm, and he’d been cold for so long. So very long.
It happened in slow motion. Jessie saw Reilly’s head lower toward hers, and she knew what was going to happen. She couldn’t pretend. She could have drawn away, could have stopped it, could have obeyed the alarm bell that was ringing somewhere in her head. But she’d spent half a lifetime fantasizing about what his kiss would be like, half a lifetime dreaming about having him touch her, having him look at her as a woman.
His mouth touched hers lightly, tentatively. Her eyes fluttered shut as her brain scrambled to sort out what was happening, what she was feeling. His lips were warm and dry. They felt…pleasant pressed against hers. Comfortable in a way. Pleasant? This was Reilly kissing her. After all these years of dreaming about it, he was finally kissing her. Shouldn’t there be fireworks and sirens? Maybe the earth shaking beneath her feet? She leaned into him just a little, steadying herself with the hand that still rested on his arm. He responded, his head tilting to deepen the kiss ever so slightly. And it was still pleasant, still comfortable. But it wasn’t anything more. Would never be anything more, she realized, feeling a little shock of realization.
She settled back on her heels, breaking off the kiss, her eyes opening to stare up at Reilly. His expression was stunned, as if he was just realizing what he’d done—what they’d done. Jessie opened her mouth to say something, though she didn’t know what, but before she could speak, Reilly’s eyes flickered past her, and she saw the color drain from his face
.
“Maybe I should go out and come back in?” Matt said behind her.
Chapter Seventeen
Jessie jerked away from Reilly’s light hold, spinning around to face her husband. He stood in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, one hand on the edge of the door, the other at his side, fingers knotted around the jacket he must have taken off when he came in the front door.
She’d never truly understood the concept of time freezing until this moment. The three of them stood there like a tableau from a bad melodrama. Matt in the doorway, rigid and silent. Reilly standing by the counter, coffee dripping from his hand, where it had splashed when she pulled away so abruptly. And she could imagine what she must look like, her face flushed, eyes wide and startled, mouth damp from Reilly’s kiss. All they needed now was some dramatic organ music and maybe a little pasteboard sign with the words Caught in the Act painted on it in curlicue script.
“Matt! I…didn’t hear you come in,” Jessie stammered, her brain scrambling to come up with a reasonable explanation for why she’d been kissing Reilly.
“That was pretty obvious.” He sounded so calm that she was almost fooled into thinking everything was going to be all right, that he’d somehow recognized that the kiss hadn’t meant anything. That he’d understand, the way he always seemed to.
But there was no understanding in his eyes or the hard set of his mouth. What there was was anger, swimming up in his eyes, turning them icy blue. She felt her mouth go dry, her heart stuttering with fear. It didn’t mean anything, she wanted to tell him, but she knew the words would seem empty and meaningless.
Reilly stepped into the silence. “Matt, this wasn’t—”
“Wasn’t what it looked like?” Matt finished for him. He arched one dark brow, his mouth twisting in an ugly line. “It looked like you were kissing my wife. You want to tell me what part of that I didn’t understand?”
Loving Jessie Page 27