by Edie Sommers
“I’m fine,” I said, wracking my brain for something, anything to make him stay.
“Wanna watch TV?” he asked.
“I lost the remote a week ago.”
Jack strode across the room, turned my TV on, and stood with one hand on his hip, flipping channels until he nodded. “This all right?”
An old western played onscreen. No matter what the show, I wouldn’t stay awake long enough to watch much. “That works.”
More tender than I ever thought the bear of a man could be, Jack lifted me again, fluffed my pillow, and laid me back down, pulling the blanket over me.
Tired. So, so, tired. Did I feel a gentle kiss on my forehead before drifting off to sleep?
2
This could go so, so wrong. I paced back and forth through the kitchen, wringing my hands. What if they said no? What then? They’d been so incredible to me while I recovered from the flu. The least I could do was make them dinner and try to pay them back.
Lasagna baked in the oven, spicy tomato sauce scenting the room. A bottle of a nearly-out-of-my-budget wine chilled in the Tupperware bowl I’d pressed into service as an ice bucket.
I’d set the table for three.
Every time a car passed the house I raced to the window. Magoo lifted his head from the back of the couch and glared, as if to say, “Would you calm down already?”
Finally, a door slammed, and I made it to the front door before Andy got out of his Mustang. Jack’s truck pulled up a moment later. I checked myself in the mirror, glowering at a stray strand of hair, and tucked it behind my ear when it wouldn’t behave.
Smoothing my hands down my skirt suit, I made a kissy face, checking my lipstick. Pound, pound, pound went my heart.
Hand on the doorknob, practiced speech in my head, I opened the door.
Another car pulled in behind Jack’s truck. I stood frozen on the porch. Two women got out. The snow might be nearly melted, but the day still needed a jacket, not the skin-tight, peekaboo club wear melted onto their skin.
Jack smiled. “Well, hey, darlin’!” He wrapped an arm around a stunning redhead with too many curves and too few clothes.
Andy waved at the other woman, a cute, petite blonde, not nearly so open with his greeting. The redhead saw me, wrapped her arms around Jack, and planted a kiss on his lips about fifteen levels above chaste.
Territory marked.
I retreated into the house and put away the extra place settings.
“Glad to see you survived,” my bestie said, plopping down on the other side of the break room table. She reached into her lunch bag and pulled out a sandwich.
“No need,” I said, pushing a bright yellow plastic container across the table. The cheery color belied my solemn mood.
Darlene lifted the lid and inhaled. “Oh! Lasagna!” She narrowed her eyes. “What do you need? I’ve already promised my firstborn to someone else.”
“Nothing! Can’t I bring my bestie lunch?” Why did she have to be so suspicious—and know me so well? I dove fork-first into my second helping. I’d made enough to feed me and Darlene both for a week.
She tucked into her serving, moaning entirely too sexually around her forkful. “You know, I bet I could make food like this.”
“First you’d have to learn to cook.” I stared at the Tupperware I’d stuck in the microwave and permanently stained tomato sauce red. “Save room. I made pie.”
“Pie too!” She clutched imaginary pearls. “You’re not trying to get into my pants, are you?”
My mouth fell open. “What? No!”
She dropped her voice low. “Okay, something’s obviously bothering you, and I won’t pry…”
I huffed a strand of hair away from my mouth. “Of course you’ll pry.”
“You bet your ass I will. But first, food.”
I should’ve known she’d question me. It wasn’t like I’d never brought her food before. Just nothing this elaborate. Hmmm… Maybe I should. I mean, she’d been there for me often enough, and hadn’t had a date show up and take her away from me when I’d planned something special.
Not fair. The guys hadn’t known about my surprise and had lives of their own to lead. Lives that didn’t involve me. Or rather, only involved me as a spectator on the sidelines.
Unlike Andy and Jack, Darlene and I had gone through a dry spell lately, date-wise. My fortunes didn’t look to be changing soon.
Darlene draped a napkin over her shoulder, our own private language for, I’ve got a shoulder for you to cry on. “So, what happened?”
“Well, Auntie Darlene—” I batted my eyelashes and donned by best Southern belle voice, guaranteed to make her spew iced tea. “I’d planned to invite my neighbors over last night.”
She cocked one brow.
Heat seared my cheeks. “To thank them for taking care of me while I was sick.”
“They took care of you?”
Rats. I hadn’t told her yet. “You know, checked on me, that sort of thing.” Fed me soup and burgers… I still felt Jack’s strong arms around me, the gentle might-have-been-a-kiss on my brow—which I refused to believe was him checking for fever—and the feeling of Andy’s fingertip against my face as he brushed back my hair.
“Oh. The cute neighbors you’d give up prominently-placed teeth to date?” Darlene mumbled, eyes trained on something across the room.
I began to turn. Darlene grabbed my wrist and snatched the ridiculous napkin off her shoulder. “Don’t! She’ll see you!”
Only one “she” at work got Darlene’s full attention: Brenda from accounting. I sighed. “You’ve been pining over her how long now? Why don’t you get over there and talk to her?”
Darlene raised one hand and studied her fingernails. “Oh, about the same length of time you’ve been love-sick over the twins next door. And how often do you talk to them? I mean, truly talk to them. Let them know you’re interested.”
Sweet teas on the porch, or beer and wine, the occasional hotdog supper or game of frisbee. Chatting and laughing well into the night. We’d waited in line for an hour together to see the latest Star Wars movie, sharing a ginormous tub of popcorn. I’d gone with them to the Fourth of July parade on Main Street. Bowling. Running. Friend stuff. Nothing more. Those could have been dates except for no hugging, no kissing, and not on Saturday night.
I’d spoken to them on a regular basis since handing over my security deposit and saying, “I’ll take it,” when I’d first moved in.
I’d ogled my landlords ever since. Never once had I let them know I wanted to be more than friends.
“Touché,” I told her. “Touché.”
Winter gave way to spring, the blonde and redhead stopped coming over in favor of a rainbow-haired vixen for Jack and a woman in long skirts and raven curls for Andy.
No one for me.
The three of us still hung out, shared meals, sat on the couch watching movies.
I sat on the porch on a relatively pleasant day, tax forms in hand, and a perma-headache setting in behind my strained eyes. IRAs? 401K? Interest income? Did the hand-me-down furniture from my aunt count as gifts? Where had I put my last bank statement?
A familiar Mustang pulled into the driveway. My pen slipped in my suddenly sweaty hand.
Andy bounded up the steps a few moments later and stood there, rocking back on his heels, not saying anything. He and Jack might be twins, but fraternal and very different. Andy appeared almost delicate next to his eleven-minutes-older, larger brother. Both had gorgeous chocolate-brown hair, and nearly-black eyes so intense that one focused gaze caused paralysis and the inability to speak. Unless I was feverish.
“How have you been?” Andy asked, studying his toes.
“Fine.” My chance for a few moments alone with him. I finally got my chance. Please don’t let me blow it. My heart somersaulted in my chest. Judging by the hard thudding, it landed flat on its ass. “I wanted to thank you and Jack again for taking care of me while I was sick. I don’t know what I’d hav
e done without you.” Suffered muchly and nearly died, possibly.
The object of many a longing waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, it’s nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing. I could count on one hand the number of people I know who’d have stepped in.”
He raised his eyes and met my gaze. “You need better people in your life then.”
I grabbed the porch swing to keep from toppling over. Was that an offer?
Andy nodded to the papers in my hand. “What are you doing?”
I blew out a breath and scrubbed a hand through my hair. Uh. Way to go, Cassandra! Now I looked a mess. “Pure evil. My taxes. To say it’s not going well is a massive understatement.”
The stiff set of his shoulders relaxed. “Oh? Need some help? I’m told I’m pretty good at that sort of thing.”
“It’s the student loans, my 401K, and my health savings plan giving me fits.” Among other things.
“Mind if I take a look?”
“N… No? I mean, no. Here.” I shoved the forms at him so hard and fast he laughed.
“Can I sit down?” he asked.
What? Oh. “Sure.” I uncurled my legs and dropped them to the floor, giving him room to sit next to me.
Next to me. Close enough to reach out and touch. Close enough to…
“Ah! Here’s the problem.” He ticked off marks on the paper. “You put your deductions here” —he pointed to a spot on the troublesome form— “instead of here.”
I watched in amazement as the man managed to make tax preparation far too sexy. He handed the forms back twenty minutes later. “There you go. Looks like you’re getting a pretty decent refund.”
Refund? “For real?” I stared at the papers. Before Andy showed up I’d owed the IRS a small fortune.
“For real,” he said.
We sat on the swing, staring at each other. Words wouldn’t come. I couldn’t have looked away if I’d tried. The splash of freckles across his nose just might become my new favorite thing.
My heart raced. I looked down at his hands. How I’d love him to stroke my hair like he’d done a few weeks ago.
He bit his lip, glanced down, then raised his dark, dark eyes once more. “Look, Cassie, I’ve been meaning to ask…”
A horn blasted and we jerked apart. Thumping music shook the pickup truck now parked behind Andy’s Mustang. Jack jumped out of the truck. “Hey, Andy. You better get a move on. The gir—” Jack bit off his words when he saw me. He glanced from me to Andy. “We got someplace we gotta be.”
Girls. He’d been about to say girls. Here I was doing taxes on a Friday night. Of course my hot neighbors would have dates.
The mood broken, I waved my tax forms and quietly said, “Thanks. Have a good night.” I fled into the house to console myself with Magoo’s company and Rocky Road ice cream.
Krunk, krunk, krunk, krunk, krunk. Wrrrrrrrr… Click, click, click. I switched the car off and banged my head against the steering wheel. I was so not going to make it to work on time. My boss would have my ass if I came in late on a Monday.
I turned the key again.
Silence. I rolled my eyes heavenward. Was there a god of ancient cars up there laughing at me?
“What seems to be the problem?”
“Eeeee!” I jumped, smashing my head against the open car door. Ow! That hurt! Clutching my chest with one hand, I rubbed my goose-bumped noggin and took in the sight now standing by the door, arms stretched out to rest on the roof of my Mazda. The black cotton of a T-shirt pulled tight across glorious pecs.
Which meant…
One good upward lunge would put me between Jack’s arms. His biceps bulged.
“Nnngggg, nnnggg nnnggg…” I swallowed a mouthful of drool. Oh, dear lord! Those abs! On full display in the tight T-shirt. My day wasn’t going so awful if the first sign of spring happened to be a magnificent body no longer hidden by heavy winter clothes.
One side of Jack’s mouth quirked up in a smirk. He knew the effect he had on me, damn it! He had enough women mooning over him; he didn’t need to add me to their ranks.
I couldn’t help myself, I shifted in my seat, putting me a few inches closer. His smirk grew. Okay, so call me Little Miss Indiscreet.
“Pop the…” He paused for a good ten seconds and grinned. “… hood.” Jerk.
My anger disappeared when he got down to business, firm butt on display as he leaned under the hood. I wanted to touch. God, how I wanted to touch.
“Seems to be your battery. The auto parts store opens at ten.”
I yanked my purse out of the car. Lip balm, keys, gum packs, and a million other things spilled to the ground. “Damn it!” I squatted down and began shoving escaped items back into the bag. Jack crouched down next to me, picking change and hairpins off the ground.
With great effort I wrenched my attention away from him and checked my cell phone. Seven-thirty. “I can’t wait. I gotta get to work.” I punched in a number I’d hoped not to have to ever use.
“Who you calling?” he asked.
“Ryde. See if anyone is on duty out this way.” One of my coworkers told me of the ride-sharing program, but up until now I’d never had to use it.
He shook his head and covered my hand with his. “No need for that. I can take you to work, pick up the battery, and have your car fixed by this afternoon.”
I nearly squealed. “Really?” Oh, right. Decorum. More softly, I said, “Really? You don’t have to go to so much trouble. I still owe you and your brother for all the TLC during the flu.”
He wrinkled his nose, a gesture that momentarily turned the Adonis into a mischievous boy. Jack’s face was longer than his brother’s, his eyes a slight bit lighter, but he sported the same spattering of light freckles over his nose. “No trouble at all. You’d do the same for me, right?”
Now that he mentioned it… To hide my sudden blush at the image of me seated beside his bed, nursing him back to health, I dug into my purse. “I don’t have cash, but it you call me I can pay on the phone with my credit card.”
Jack shook his head. “Nah. We can settle up later. I get a discount on car parts.”
I worried my lower lip with my teeth. How I hated confessing to being helpless around cars. “I’m not sure what kind of battery I need or anything.” Having an old-fashioned father who’d told me, “Your husband will take care of those sort of things,” I’d never learned the car maintenance he’d taught my brother.
I should have insisted.
He slammed the hood down. “That’s okay. I gotta get my money’s worth for all those years of auto shop at community college, don’t I?”
Images of Jack, grease smears across his brow and tool belt pulling down those well-fitting jeans made my mouth water. Like a magnet, his strong body called to me, for me to mold my flesh to his.
We stood a few feet apart, staring holes in each other. All I had to do was reach out, say something…
I lifted my hand, heart lodged in my throat. Reason screamed at me, No, Cassie, don’t! This is crazy! He’s your neighbor. You like his brother. This could turn so, so awkward.
Jack broke the spell a moment before I could make a total fool of myself. “Well, c’mon, darlin’. We gotta get you to work.”
Work. Riiiiiiiiight. He didn’t open the truck door for me, but I’d never been the kind of girl to expect such behavior. I opened the door myself, reached inside for the “Oh shit” handle, and hoisted myself up into the monster truck he drove.
“Nice form,” he said, climbing behind the wheel.
I flushed, my face in danger of catching fire. Oh. He meant the way I climbed in, not my body.
Maybe. At least I’d taken time to fix my hair, apply makeup, and matched my floral skirt to a simple red top. Monday mornings were generally iffy, fashion-sense-wise.
“How you getting on here in town?” Jack put the truck in gear and pulled out onto the road.
My heart fluttered. Oh, dear God! I was all alone in an enclosed place with a man
I’d fantasized about for months, when normally Jack and Andy were together in my presence. On the third try I managed to reply, “Okay, I reckon.” Why did my mouth choose that moment to go all Southern on me? I sounded like I just stepped off the farm!
Not missing a beat, Jack matched his drawl to mine. “You seem to be a bit of a homebody,” he said, quickly adding, “not that there’s anything wrong with staying home or nothing.”
How would he know? He and Andy never seemed to be home. Or home alone, at any rate.
“I get out some.” His smile fell. Why? “Darlene, a friend from college, also works with me. We hang out some. She’s the reason I moved here when she got me a job where she works.”
“Darlene Russel?”
“Yeah. You know her?”
“I know her. Went to high school with her.” He opened his mouth and then closed it again. He wasn’t smiling. Did he think…
I wasn’t outing my friend to anyone. If he thought I meant more than mere hanging out, so be it. I’d protect the woman from small town homophobes with my life.
He stopped at a stop sign. And sat. And sat.
“What?” I asked, ready to drop my infatuation and defend my friend with my dying breath, if needs be.
A slow smile spread across his face. “You need to tell me where to go.”
Oh. “Take a left here, a right on Evans, then work is four miles, on the right.”
“You work at the old pharma company?”
“Yeah.” I headed off long-stale jokes with, “I don’t deal ‘em, I just make folks pay for them.” Hmm… that hadn’t sounded nearly as good coming out of my mouth as it had in my head. “I work in the accounts receivable department.”
We rode the rest of the way in silence. Finally, he pulled into the employee parking lot, and straight up to the entry door. How’d he know where to go?
“I… uh… know folks who work here,” he said without my asking, face impassive.
Jack, not grinning?
Two women walked by, the spattered lapels of their lab jackets testifying to some chemical mishap. One giggled and waved to Jack. He paused, then raised his hand. The women marched on, heads together and chatting furiously, and I didn’t think they were talking test samples and protocols. “Do you need a ride home?”