by Cindy Miles
Which, I was.
But not in the sense everyone assumed.
Brax, on that same note, had had a fairly decent reputation himself at one time. As a man-slut. And I could tell he was looking at me as if he knew me.
He didn’t.
But I simply grinned at Brax Jenkins. “I can see that,” I finally answered. I moved my gaze over the others, and while not unfriendly, they all seemed, I don’t know. Unsure, maybe? Kane studied me quietly, his eyes dark and smoky and unreadable. Harper, dressed in jeans and a sweater, with her straight blonde hair pulled into a smooth ponytail, nodded politely. She leaned into Kane, and I quickly assessed her.
I’d always thought she was such an uptight, self-righteous richy-rich goody-goody. But after her past had caught up with her—right in Winston’s quad in front of God and everybody, no less—it made me reconsider her. Made me compare her life to mine. I didn’t know everything there was to know about Harper Belle, but I’d learned a couple of things that day. One—you truly never know what tragedies might occur in others’ lives. And two—Harper Belle and myself had more in common with secret pasts than even I wanted to admit. We both hid things from everyone. Things we wanted kept under wraps. Totally secret.
“Hey, Memory,” Olivia then said. A genuine smile took over her face. “How’re classes going? This is your last semester, right?”
I nodded, surprised she even remembered that about me. “Almost there,” I answered. “Finally.”
“All right, I’m gettin’ tired,” Jasper announced.
I glanced at him, and he cocked his brow. “Do you have just as much trouble exiting an event as you do entering one?” The sly smile on his weathered old face almost made me laugh out loud. Made me forget that, overall, people had an opinion about me. One I’d egged on with all of my college shenanigans, so I couldn’t complain about it. Still, I pushed the unwanted feeling aside.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” I answered, and held out my arm.
Jasper took it and spared Jace the vaguest of glances. “Scram, son.”
I gave a non-committal shrug to Jace, who returned it, and allowed Jasper to set the pace to the parking lot. “See you all later,” I said to Brax and the others.
“See you around, Memory,” Olivia answered.
“Eyes on the road, Jasper,” Jace called to him.
When I chanced a peek over my shoulder at Jace, he no longer watched us. His back was turned, talking to Brax and Olivia.
“That’s a tough crowd back there,” Jasper said as we slowly ambled to his truck. “Close-knit group of kids is all.” He winked at me. “Lookin’ after each other.”
“Yeah, I get that,” I admitted. Suddenly, that familiar, unwanted throbbing began in my temples. Slight at first, it seemed to grow in intensity with each step. Literally came out of nowhere. I’d been fine in the stands. By the time we reached Jasper’s pick-up, I was fighting to keep a smile on my face and the nausea at bay. Damn stupid medicine. Damn stupid…everything.
Those aged, clear blue eyes studied me closely. “You okay, darlin’?”
I fixed the best knickertwister to my face that I could muster. “You mean other than being twenty dollars poorer?” I laughed softly. “No, I’m fine.” I sniffed the air. “Allergies. Gives me a terrible headache.” I was pretty sure nothing that would cause allergies was blooming in January, but it was the best I could come up with.
Those blue eyes narrowed. “Wanna ride home?”
Just then, Crisco, Sugar, and the others came racing across the parking lot. “Come on, Mem!” Claire hollered. We were supposed to be heading to Rucker’s, but my head was telling me Awe Hell No.
I lifted a brow at Jasper. “I hardly know you,” I said.
“Well, if you can’t trust a goddamned Texas Ranger, who can you trust?” Jasper said. “I might walk a little stiff but my drivin’s perfect and so’s my eyesight. Reflexes still ain’t bad, either.” He inclined his old, gray head to the passenger side. “Git in, girl. I’ll take you home.”
I smiled at that, and nodded. “Let me tell my friends I’ve got a ride,” I said. I moved as gently as I could toward my friends. Each step caused a shot of pain through my left eye. “Hey,” I called to Crisco. Sugar leaned over him in the back seat of the Cutlass.
“Come on, slow-poke,” Sugar said. “We got drinks with our names on it.”
“I’m gonna pass this time, guys,” I said. The throbbing increased. I felt it from my scalp clear to the ends of my hair.
They all looked at me. I shrugged. “I’ve got a splitting headache. Bentley, are you still okay picking me up in the morning for class?”
“Absolutely,” he said.
“Man, Memory,” Claire said. “Are you sure? I’ve got some BC Powders.”
I shook my head. “No, thanks, Peeshwank.” I inclined my head to Jasper. “I’ve got a ride home, and I’ll just sleep it off.”
I waved and walked back, with Claire promising to check on me later.
Jasper was waiting on me with the engine running. My freaking head was now close to bursting open.
Quickly, I climbed in. “Take a right out of campus,” I instructed. I couldn’t help but press my thumbs into my temples. It didn’t really help. I felt like leaning forward, putting my head between my knees and squeezing. I resisted. I didn’t want to freak Jasper out.
In the side-view mirror I watched my friends pile into the Cutlass. Bentley started his truck up and they were all pulling out. Then, inadvertently, my gaze searched for Jace Beaumont.
His truck was nowhere in sight.
“So, gal,” Jasper asked as we crept through campus, heading for the exit. “You sweet on my god-grandson, or what?”
I wasn’t exactly sure yet how to take old Jasper. Was he in protective mode, like Brax and the Brax Jenkins Fan Club? Had he sensed their reaction to me?
Did I really put off such a negative image?
Couldn’t blame Jasper for asking, that’s for sure. From what I saw at the game, he and Jace were pretty close. And, he had a keen sense. He was once a Texas Ranger, after all.
With the throbbing in my head pushing against my skull, I focused on answering. Making sure he couldn’t tell that I might very well pass out in his truck.
“Well,” I said. My voice sounded a little shaky, and I cleared my throat. “He is a handsome devil. But I don’t know him, Jasper. We just met last night.”
“Oh?” the old guy said. He cut a glance at me. “How’s that?”
Hoping it was inconspicuous, I drew in a deep inhale. Let it out slowly. “My Jeep broke down last night. I called for a tow, and Jace appeared.” I pasted a grin to my face. “Like a knight in shining armor. Um, make a right out of the college and it’s about five minutes past the city limits. Look for the mailbox with the big metal windcatcher.”
Jasper nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. The sun had dropped to a late wintry dusk, and shadows stretched long from the massive hardwood trees lining Killian’s city drive. “Jeep¸ you say? Any idea what’s wrong with it?” he asked.
It struck me as funny that Jasper had let the whole sweet on my god-grandson thing go so quickly. I was glad he did. “I’ve no idea. My dad keeps up with it but he’s out of town on a job right now.” I gave a soft laugh. “He’s tried his best to get me to buy a newer model, but I just can’t seem to part with the old girl.”
“Uh, huh,” Jasper noted. “I know the feelin’. Got an old Chevy myself. So, how long have you lived here in Killian?” He chuckled. “I’d wager not too long. Not with that accent.”
My laugh was light. “Going on six years now.”
“Uh, huh.”
Luck was with me as Jasper passed all three traffic lights on a green. My head felt like a pumpkin. I wanted to smash it with something. Anything to relieve the pressure.
“You look…pained.”
I glanced at Jasper and sighed. “Headaches suck.”
“That they do, girly. I’ve had a few myself.”
; I hoped they’d never been anything like the ones I’d started having. “The next driveway on the right is mine.”
He slowed and turned down my lane, and as we ambled down toward the house, I glanced at Jasper. Those wise old eyes inspected everything. I figured there wasn’t too much that could get by the old guy.
“Well, what the hell are those things?” he asked, pointing to one of my windcatchers. There were several around the house, two by the barn. One by the mailbox. A couple mounted on top of the barn and the workshop. They were my designs, each one unique.
Again, I pasted on a smile. The headache was bad. The nausea was barely staying away. “My handiwork. I like to make clanging windy things. Make a pretty decent coin doing it, too.”
Jasper pulled close to the porch and put the truck in park. “You weld, girl?”
I gave a soft laugh. “Sure do. Brazing. My daddy taught me.” I glanced out at all the windcatchers. Some taller than others. All meant to whirl and clang with the breeze. “I don’t think he ever thought I’d fill the yard with weird metal art.”
When Jasper looked at me, his eyes softened in the fading light. “I like ‘em. Say, you here all alone?”
I opened the door. I needed to get inside. Lay down. Something. “In between my dad’s jobs, I am. He works the oil rigs.”
Old Jasper looked at me and nodded. He didn’t ask about my mother, and for now, I was glad. Maybe his Ranger intuition had kicked in, and if so I was damned glad of it. I didn’t have much more conversation left in me.
“All right, girly,” he said. I liked his voice. Gruff. Scratchy. Like he’d smoked for years until some determined doctor made him quit. “You get in there and take care of that head. I hate the damned things myself.” He winked. “It was good meeting you.”
My smile was genuine, although strained. “You too, Jasper. Thanks for the lift.”
I didn’t stay and watch him pull away from my house. As soon as he turned around, I hurried inside. Captain Gregg was curled up in his usual spot, and lifted his head as I walked in. He didn’t move; but I felt him watching me as I fell onto the sofa, kicked my shoes off, and pulled a pillow over my head as I tucked into a ball. It would ease. It’d go away soon. Jesus God, please, let it…
A knock at the door woke me. The moment my eyes fluttered open, I realized the headache had eased. Not all the way gone, but that agonizing ripping sensation through my skull had disappeared. Thank you, Lord! I’d been told the experimental medicine would kick my ass at first. Damn, the doc wasn’t lying. My ass was appropriately getting kicked. Hard.
Another knock, and I eased off the sofa. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Jasper dropped me off, but it was pitch black inside the house now. Captain Gregg, who had at some point left his usual spot to lie on the floor next to me, rose and trotted to investigate the visitor. The wood plank flooring felt cool beneath my bare feet as I followed him, and when I reached the door I flipped on the porch light and peered out.
Son-of-a—
What was Jace Beaumont doing here again? He was standing there on the porch, his legs braced wide, hands shoved into the pockets of his faded Carhartt jacket. Still hatless, just like I’d seen him at the game. With a steady gaze, he watched me. Waited. My hair was probably standing on end after wallowing all over the couch with a pillow smashed to my skull. Oh, well. I’m the real deal. Take me as I am or not at all.
I opened the door and pushed the screen, and it gave a loud, slow creak. The air outside had grown cooler, and I flashed him a grin. “Find something else in your truck that belongs to me?”
He glanced away and smiled, as if he didn’t want me to see him do it. Then he looked back at me. “Jasper told me you have a Jeep problem.” His warm breath clashed with the cold air and turned into a white puff as he spoke. Exhaled.
I narrowed my gaze. “You already knew that, seeing how you’re the one who had to tow me thirty miles.”
“Thirty one. And I’d assumed you had a mechanic lined up.”
Captain Gregg pushed past me, then past Jace. “You’ll have to excuse Captain Gregg. The older he gets, the less manners he possesses. That and he’s flexing his superiority over you.”
Jace quirked a brow. “Captain Gregg?”
I bent over and pushed my feet into a pair of rubber boots I kept at the front door then quirked a brow. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen The Ghost and Mrs. Muir?” I gave a snort at his dubious look. “1947? Gene Tierney and Rex Harrison? It’s a classic. My absolute favorite of films.” I rose and stepped through the door to stand before him on the porch. I had to look up, but not so much that my neck hurt. “Captain Gregg is this sexy, cranky old ghost of a sea captain who haunts his cliff-side cottage the moment anyone tries to rent it. Especially the beautiful, young and quite opinionated widowed Mrs. Muir.”
Jace lifted a brow. “You don’t look like the classic movies type.”
I gave a sly smile and trotted down the steps. Jace followed. “Well now, looks can be deceiving, you know that right?” I stopped at my Jeep, leaned in and popped the hood.
“Hmm,” he muttered.
I looked at him and cocked my head. In the porch light his eyes appeared to be glossy shards of sea glass. My mouth pulled. “I hear quite a lot of merrymaking in that particular hmmm.”
Jace lifted the hood and propped it open. While he inspected, he kept his eyes averted from mine. “I guess you look more like the Lost Boys type.”
“Ha! Of course I am! I love that movie. Total cult classic 80s.” I laughed. I leaned next to him and peered into the cavernous area of the engine, our elbows close. “Leather and lace. Soft and razor-sharp.” I looked at him then, and he cautiously and silently returned the glance. “Maniac fast or sensually slow, I am as diverse in taste as anyone you’re ever going to meet, Jace Beaumont.”
After a moment, his mouth tilted up in one corner and he shook his head. “Do you have an eccentric answer for everything?” He continued exploring the contents under the hood of the Jeep via the porch light. Stuck his arm in. Moved this. Jiggled that.
I turned around and leaned a hip against the Jeep’s frame. “Why yes, I do,” I answered. “Not always right, maybe, but I’ll take interesting over boring any ole day. Besides. I do have a horde of solutions sub-stored deep into my extreme and highly sought-after wit.” I wiggled my brows when he looked at me. “It’s true.”
He gave the place a once-over. “You live here alone?”
I shook my head. “My dad works the oil rigs. He’s on a job in the gulf right now. Why? Are you worried about me?”
Again, he hid a smile and shook his head, then pointed at some place near the engine. “Your belt shredded.” He inclined his head, I stepped back and he slammed the hood. “I’ll bring one by tomorrow and put it on.”
“Really?” I gave him a full knickertwister. “That is awfully kind of you.” I tilted my head, and crossed my arms over my chest. It really was getting chilly out. “How much will it cost me?”
Jace shoved his hands deep into his coat pockets, glanced toward the barn, then back at me. I liked the way his shadowy gruff on his jaw looked darker in the shadows. The way he moved. Confident. Sure of himself. The way he tried to look as though I wasn’t affecting him. “Jasper instructed me to tell you that it’s on the house.”
I rocked back on my heels and grinned. “Oh, he did, huh?”
Captain Gregg came trotting up and plopped his tailless backside down beside me. Jace ducked his head, as though accommodating for his height, and gave a slight smile in return. “He did.” He reached down and scrubbed Captain Gregg between the ears.
I rubbed my chin with my forefinger. “You heard every word I said this morning through the door. Didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Hmm,” I answered. “I’ll take that as a yes. But you deserved it.”
He walked me to the porch. “And why did I deserve it?”
I turned and faced him. “Because you
were a straight-up braying donkey’s ass to me the night before, that’s why. You can’t deny it.”
“I can’t?” he asked. He shifted his weight, stood tall. Confident. Cocky.
I liked it.
“Well, you can,” I continued. “But you’d be lying to yourself again.”
One dark brow lifted. “Again?”
I smiled and trotted up the porch steps, then turned at the screen door. “Yeah. Like how you’re lying to yourself right now. About wanting to ask me out.” I stepped inside, then turned and leaned against the doorjamb. “It’d be a lot easier on the both of us if you just admitted it to yourself now, don’t you think? That you like me?”
He again glanced away, hiding a grin from me. His gaze returned. “Is that so?”
One more knickertwister for good measure. “It sure is. What time tomorrow?”
He didn’t look away, and the amusement pulling at his features didn’t fade. “Four.”
“See you tomorrow at four then, Jace Beaumont.”
He merely smiled. Shook his head. As if he had no clue as to what to say to me. He climbed into his truck and left.
As I watched his tail lights bob down the lane, I claimed a seat on the porch swing instead of going inside. Captain Gregg hopped up beside me and laid his head on my lap. I gave the swing a push with the toe of my rubber boot, and the aging chains creaked. I scratched the fluff of fur between his ears.
“He’s pretty damn cute, don’t you think, Captain Gregg?” I asked.
Captain Gregg gave a heavy sigh in response.
“My thoughts exactly,” I answered.
I just prayed my Side Effects stayed the hell away.
At least, for a while.
Tilting my head back, I rested it against the wooden slats of the swing and watched my breath puff smoky white as I breathed, and stared at the crisp January sky. Velvet black blinking with diamond-like stars, the moment almost felt normal.
Flirting with Jace felt normal, too.
Only normal didn’t seem to coincide with my life anymore.
Really, it never had.