“You guessed right.” Lynx reached across the table and high-fived Lily. “Hi, Lil.”
“Hi, Lynx.”
Like the guys, she called him by his last name. He grinned at her, which was damned near impossible not to do given the level of cuteness she contained. She jumped into one of the leather chairs, gave it a spin and her curly dark hair flew. Oh, to be ten again.
Vic pointed at her. “Lil, take it easy on the chair.” He brought his attention back to Lynx. “What’s up?”
“You could have called me. You didn’t have to come in.”
“We got two teenagers and a couple of newborns at home. We’re running from the carnage. I just picked up maxi pads. Kill me now.”
Lily smiled, all giant teeth, and her cuteness doubled. “He made me carry them.”
“I wasn’t gonna do it,” Vic said.
Jillian swung around the doorframe and her doe-eyed gaze landed on Vic’s feet then slowly worked its way up the small mountain of him. Lynx nearly laughed. The guy’s size alone scared the hell out of people.
“Sorry to interrupt.”
Lynx waved her in. “This is Vic and Lily. Vic and Lily, meet my friend Jillian.”
“Hi.”
Vic slid Lynx a sideways glance. No doubt his mind had gone to the gutter.
Lily scrambled out of her seat. “Have you been here before?”
“No.”
“Great! I’ll give you a tour.”
“I’d love a tour,” Jillian said. A guy had to love a woman who indulged a little girl in her silly endeavor.
Ten more days.
Apparently Lily was the resident hostess with the mostest, because she latched on to Jillian’s arm, dragged her to the door and pulled it closed as they left.
In typical Vic style, he waggled his eyebrows. “Finally? You’re getting laid? Thank you.”
“She’s a friend from yoga. Her house got broken into last night.”
Lynx’s cell phone rang and he checked the screen. “Hang on. This is Mike.” He hit the speaker button. “Hey. Thanks for calling me back. Vic is here.”
“Is this about the car?”
Vic grunted. “Ix-nay on that, Mike. Haven’t gotten there yet.”
“What car?”
“Yours,” Vic said. “It’s a crapper. Mike wants you to get rid of it.”
Now, that was offensive. He’d had that car ten years. It was a good, reliable car with low mileage, and he had no intention of getting rid of it. Change was not an addict’s friend.
Mike cleared his throat. “We have a Mercedes in the garage. It’s supposed to be Vic’s, but he hates it.”
“I don’t hate it. I like my truck.”
“So you’re giving it to me?”
“If you want it,” Mike said. “Otherwise, go lease yourself something. I don’t care. Just get rid of the piece of shit you’re driving.”
“I like my car.”
Vic rolled his eyes. “But you can’t be sportin’ clients around in that. You could use some new work clothes too.”
Now it was bad clothes? “Until five months ago I was on a government salary. Forgive me if my suits aren’t Armani.”
Vic held his hands up. “Only an observation. And it wouldn’t hurt to get laid.”
Through the phone, Mike laughed. Now I’m screwed. Give Vic a responsive audience and he’d go into a stand-up routine.
“You gotta give yourself some slack on this one-year thing,” Vic said. “Call it a done deal and go bang someone. The redhead would be a good choice.”
Lynx poked his finger. “I’ve got a plan here. I’m in recovery. I’m focusing. Don’t give me any shit.”
“You’re allowed to have fun. You’re not supposed to make any major changes either. Five months ago you blew that out of the water by leaving your State Department job and moving halfway across the country. I’d call that a major fucking change.”
“The stress of that job was killing me. I made the change to better my quality of life.”
“Exactly why you should get a new car, some good clothes and get laid.”
Through the phone, Mike sighed. “Am I needed for this conversation?”
“No,” Vic said.
“Yes,” Lynx said. “I didn’t call you about the car. I didn’t even know about the car.”
“What, then?”
“A friend of mine had a break-in last night. She lives alone. Can we get a security system installed for her today?”
Hesitation. “You realize its Sunday and I have to pay someone double time?”
Lynx had been ready for that one. “Take it out of my budget.”
Vic whistled. “I taught you well, Boy Scout.”
More silence and then, “I’ll see if I can find you someone, but on an eighty-degree day in March, don’t count on it. I’m out.”
Lynx disconnected. Damned freakish weather was screwing him. “I guess I’ll wait for a call back.”
“I guess you will.” Vic spun the chair Lily had vacated and sat. “Tell me about this redhead.”
Not a chance. Vic would harangue him endlessly about whether or not he got laid. Forget it. Nothing doing. Lynx shook his head.
“Come on. I won’t bug you about it.” Vic held up two fingers and grinned. “Scout’s honor.”
The issue at hand was whether or not to believe someone known to keep a file of his friends’ colossal fuckups. This guy was a terrorist at heart. If he got dirt on someone, he never let up. “What’s to tell? We take a yoga class together. She asked for my help.”
“But you like her?”
“Sure. Why not? If I was in the market, I’d ask her out.”
“It’s time for you to be in the market.”
“No offense, but you don’t know shit about my life. I have a plan. I’m working it.”
“Wah, wah. I know all about your plan. That’s good. I mean, you’ve been clean all this time. I’m guessing you’ve thought about going back on the junk, but you’ve resisted. You’ve done what you always do. You work the problem until you figure it out. That’s who you are. You get shit done. Why do you think we gave you a job? Well, your government contacts didn’t hurt, but the point is, we know you. I know you.”
None of this was new information. Lynx prided himself on his networking abilities. He knew how politicians worked and understood the gymnastics involved in being awarded government contracts. Still, it never hurt to have those skills recognized. “Where are you headed with this?”
Vic leaned forward. “What will be so different about day three-sixty-five than day three-fifty-five?”
Lynx tapped his fingers against the edge of the table. This had to be a trap. “Huh?”
“Are you gonna have some big epiphany on day three-sixty-five? Some monumental thing that will convince you you’re no longer in recovery?”
“I’ll always be in recovery.”
“That’s my point. When do you start having fun again? You seem settled, you go to meetings, you take care of yourself, you’re mindful of how your behavior affects others. You haven’t just taken moral inventory, you’ve clubbed yourself senseless with it. If you ask me, you’re ready to start living again. And I don’t think it’ll flipping matter if it’s today or ten days from now.”
The conference room door opened and Lily stuck her head in. “Uncle Michael’s office is locked. I can’t finish the tour.”
“Sweet Pea, Uncle Mike doesn’t want anyone touring his office. That’s why it’s locked.”
“Oh. The tour is over, then. Can we leave now?”
Score one for Lily. She had just bailed Lynx out of this psych session. “Yes,” he said. “Please do.”
Vic stood and held his hand for a fist bump. “I’
m just saying.”
“Yeah, I get it. I’ll think about it.”
In ten days.
Chapter Three
Jillian’s house was silent when she and Jack came through the front door. The last time she’d invited a man to her home it had been the oven repairman. What that said about her social life was downright disturbing.
Jack’s cell phone rang. She wrapped her hand around one of the dining table chairs and pulled it out for him.
“Have a seat.”
He slid into the chair and, after talking briefly—a conversation that didn’t sound like she’d be getting a security system—dropped his phone to the table.
With one finger, he spun the phone around and around and around on the polished wood.
“No luck?”
“Mike can’t raise anyone. He talked to a couple of guys, but they’re out with their families. Someone will be here first thing tomorrow.”
With time slipping into late afternoon, this wasn’t a surprise. Still, it meant facing a night alone in her home minus a security system. The police who’d responded to her call had told her the thief had either picked the lock on her back door or had a key. Her mother was the only other person with a key, so she assumed the lock had been picked. For her own safety, she wouldn’t stay there.
Jack continued to play with his phone, his gaze on it as it spun. All day he’d been lapsing into these brief silences. The man was a thinker. A strategizer.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I knew it was a long shot. Thank you for trying. I’m sorry I’ve wasted your entire day. I’ll stay somewhere else tonight.”
“You didn’t waste my day. I didn’t have plans. I was hoping to get this system installed for you. It sucks that you’re being put out of your own house.”
“It’s only one night. Tomorrow, thanks to you, I’ll be back in and will feel safer.”
The phone spinning continued, but he jerked his head toward the cordless on the breakfast bar. “Call whoever you’re gonna call. I’m not leaving until I know you have a place to go.”
She patted his hand and held it to stop the mindless spinning. “I’ll be fine.”
His gaze remained on their stacked hands and the welcoming silence from just minutes ago became charged, a live wire snapping. At least until his fingers twitched. Then twitched again. He slid his hand from beneath hers. Somehow, her simple, meaningless touch sent them beyond the line of comfort.
She didn’t understand. Particularly since she’d spotted him staring at her on numerous occasions. She couldn’t say she minded. Not with his baby face and haunting blue eyes. There couldn’t be a woman alive who would mind this man staring at her.
Just once she’d like to see his eyes twinkle. Jack Lynx was always way too serious. At least in the minimal time she’d spent with him.
She dragged her hand back. “Sorry.”
“No. I...uh...” He scratched his cheek. “I don’t know.”
“I wasn’t—”
“My fault. I don’t want you to think I’m manipulating the situation. That I’m hitting on you when you’re vulnerable.”
Seriously? Where did this guy come from? “I didn’t think that. Thank you, though.” She smiled. “For not hitting on me. I think.”
Finally, he laughed and it transformed his oh so serious face into a tantalizing array of soft angles and bright blue eyes. So handsome when he smiled.
“You’re welcome. What about family?”
“Huh?”
“That you can stay with tonight. Family?”
“My folks live in Evanston, but my dad and I are in a rough spot. I’d just as soon go to a hotel.”
Things were bad enough today, she didn’t need to step into the hot-ass mess of her father having fallen off the wagon. Again. Going there would surely suck her into childhood memories of him tucked into his favorite drunk chair with a bottle of scotch clutched in his greedy hands.
In front of her friends.
She’d had enough of that and even now, as an adult, knew to stay away from her parents during her father’s drunk phases. Hot, flashing stabs settled in her shoulders. The never-ending guilt that came with estrangement. Still, by now she understood piling on her own drama regarding her father’s disease did none of them any good.
And yet, she still loved the man. Complicated.
“Isn’t there someone else you can call?”
How pathetic was this? She’d spent all these years slapping on her happy face, letting people think she was a well-adjusted, outgoing and friendly person when the reality was she’d worked hard to isolate herself. To keep the number of friends to a choice few. This was the life she’d built for herself.
Maybe she didn’t love being alone, but loneliness brought the security that came with not risking people disappointing her. “Maybe my friend Mallory.”
“Good. Get on it.”
She pointed at him and circled her finger. “So pushy you are. Who knew?”
He grinned again. Twice so far. How about that?
“Just getting squared away here.”
“Thank you.”
She had to admit, it was nice having someone worry about her. Growing up as the makeshift adult in a house lacking maturity, she’d spent her time worrying about everyone else. She couldn’t blame her mother, who simply wanted to survive and immersed herself into her alcoholic spouse’s world. Years of therapy taught Jillian to stay away. Until her father accepted responsibility for his behavior, she couldn’t be around him.
Harsh, maybe, but she refused to be unhappy because her father couldn’t face his problems.
She grabbed her cell, called Mallory and was informed she could stay there, but the kids had the stomach flu. Thanks but no thanks.
“That didn’t sound good,” Jack said when she hung up.
“Kids have the flu. I’ll go to a hotel.”
Which, of course, would come out of her spending money for the week. There went the budget. It would be a week of lunches from home. No biggie.
“Are you sure you’re okay with that?”
She leaned forward and rested her chin in her hand. “Sure. I’ve been on my own a long time. It’s only one night.”
“Yeah, but after what you went through last night, will you sleep at all?”
Probably not. “You’re a worry wart.”
“I like to think of myself as a fixer. Sometimes that falls into the worrying category.”
“Well, Mr. Fixer, thank you. But go home. I’ll pack a bag and find a hotel. I’m a big girl.”
He drummed his fingers on the table and stared at her for a long minute. That same snapping energy roared back and her head pounded.
“If you wanted, you could stay at my place.”
* * *
What the hell am I doing? He might as well be Superman inviting kryptonite into his bed. Definitely needed his goddamn head examined. But the idea of her in a hotel room? After she’d chased off a burglar last night? No one should be alone after an experience like that.
He’d go with that theory.
“I have a spare room,” he said. “It’s not fancy, but the bed is comfortable. If you’re not alone, maybe you’ll sleep. You could even lock the door.”
She eyed him. “Can you be trusted?”
Not where you’re concerned. “Mostly.”
She laughed. “That’s comforting.”
“All kidding aside, I’d feel better if you weren’t alone.”
She glanced around the room, settled her gaze on the corner desk where she’d said her laptop should be. “It’s an awful feeling. Knowing someone was prowling through my things while I slept. A total violation.”
“I can imagine.”
“I can’t get hung up on
it. If I do, it’ll turn me into a lunatic. I want to feel safe here. I bought this place with my own money. It’s mine. My sanctuary. My place. I can’t let someone take that from me.”
“And you won’t. You’ll get your security system tomorrow and take control again.”
One thing he knew and respected was a person’s ability to seize control. He’d been doing that for months now and had a stack of reasons why he shouldn’t pursue this woman. Plus, he probably had ten years on her. That was a minor point. The biggie, the A-bomb, the one that scared the hell out of him, was that he couldn’t risk swapping one addiction for the other. Jillian had taken up residence in his mind and wouldn’t leave. That alone sent every caution bell in his body clanging. Theoretically, his compulsion to think about her could be a way to satisfy his dependency needs.
Ah, hell. He’d ignore his raging attraction. For another ten days. Maybe a few more to lock in his mental state. Then he could say he’d successfully completed a year of sobriety. He needed to hit that goal. Emotionally as well as physically. After that, who knew what he’d do?
Their gazes locked for a brief second while she thought about it. “And you don’t mind?”
“Do you cook?”
She gawked. “Is that my boarding fee?”
“I don’t want to be too forward.”
“My tush,” she said. “But I guess I can throw together a meal.”
“Excellent. We can stop at the store on the way to my place. God knows I don’t have anything in my fridge.”
Jillian went upstairs to pack a bag while Lynx sat at the dining room table. He surveyed his surroundings. Thick, dark green drapes hung on the front windows and a cream upholstered sofa and two reddish chairs loaded with pillows in various shapes and colors filled the space. Even the greenish print rug under the coffee table accentuated the room. Jillian had made herself a nice, comfortable home.
Maybe she wasn’t as young as she looked. In his experience, most working women in their mid-twenties couldn’t afford to buy their own houses, much less tend to the details of decorating.
Terrific. If Jillian was older than he thought, his stack of reasons to stay away from her had just gotten shorter.
Opposing Forces Page 3