by Cindy Miles
Jace’s smile was, well, so real. So genuinely happy to have made me happy, that it all but lit up the darkened park. “The guy I towed was Cady’s mayor. We had a long chat on the way home. Said if I ever wanted a certain movie…”
I hugged him again. “I know this sounds silly,” I said against his neck. “We’ve only just met. But this means the world to me.” I brushed my lips across his, and he just stared. “I’ll never forget it for as long as I live.”
We both lay on our stomachs after that, then on our sides, and watched as Captain Gregg’s gruffness won the heart of the infuriating Mrs. Muir. It was a perfect night, with a sky like a blanket of pitch dazzled by stars; a favorite old black and white movie, and a guy who had completely taken me by surprise. He’d packed strawberry sodas and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, slices of apple, and we finished every bite. And when Jace reached for my hand, I looked at him, and the movie cast shadows and lights across his face and made his eyes shine; it was that simple, slight touch, with fingers barely hanging on, and me watching Jace watch the movie, engrossed, that made me pause. Made me consider. Made me wonder.
All very, very dangerous actions for me.
But for now, we were both young, smiling, and that led to laughing, and we finished watching the movie in the park. For now, I was carefree. And I’d never felt so light in all of my life.
When we pulled onto my lane later that night, Jace walked me to my door, and I turned and leaned against it, looked up at him.
“Thank you for tonight,” I said, and I felt my heart racing in my chest. “That was literally the best date of my life.”
Jace stood there with his eyes on mine, then he reached up and pulled my knit hat off. “If someone would’ve told me I’d be lying on a blanket in an open air park in the dead of January watching an old black and white movie with a five-foot eleven inch girl from Lafayette,” he said, smiling, “I’d have thought they’d lost their damn mind.” His eyes moved over me then. “I have to admit, though,” he added in that sexy drawl, “that was the best date I’ve ever had, too.”
“And why would you have thought they’d lost their damn minds?” I inquired.
He shrugged. “I’d made up my mind when I left the ranch to pursue a college degree that I was way too old to be horsin’ around with so much money. This was it for me, Memory. I made up my mind to work in law enforcement and particularly the Rangers, and when I do something”—he sighed, smiled, threaded our fingers together—“well, I don’t do it half-ass. I go all the way, one hundred percent and I don’t stop until I’ve succeeded. Until I’ve won.”
It was hard not to just stare at him. So different from the guys I’d been interested in before. And since I only knew my male friends on a male friend level, I guess I’d never noticed such profoundness in any of them. But Jace…
“Well, I think that’s about the most insightful thing I’ve ever heard a man say before, Jace Beaumont. It says a lot about your character, and I like that.”
He grinned, and his hands slipped to my waist. “Well, I don’t want to come on too strong, too fast,” he said softly. “But I was wrong about you at first, Memory Thibodeaux. I was so quick to judge.” He cocked his head back and studied me. “I saw something in you that day you stopped to help old Jasper onto the ball field. It was selfless. And it was noble.” He smiled, and shook his head. “And I knew then you’d gotten me. I couldn’t stop thinking about you after that.”
“Hallelujah for that,” I said with a grin, and rose up on my tip-toes to look him square in the eyes. “I kind of suffered from the same affliction.”
Jace laughed then, that soft yet utterly male laugh, and then lowered his mouth to mine. “I like your hair like this,” he said against my lips. “All crazy waves and natural.” He kissed me, slow, long, and his hands slipped around my waist, my lower back, and his body crowded mine, and I didn’t want it to stop.
But it did. And he did. This was new territory for me, so I let him set the pace.
“Crazy gorgeous, just like you,” he whispered, swept my lips again, then pulled back to look at me. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ms. Thibodeaux.”
My voice was a little shaky. “Not if I see you first, Mr. Beaumont.”
After I tossed and turned for what seemed like the entire night, my alarm woke me at seven in the morning. I knew what it was, keeping me awake and frustrated and rolling around my bed like some lunatic. Before I could ponder it further, my phone rang. It was Claire.
“Up for some coffee?” she said.
“Sure,” I answered.
“Good. Get your ass up and let me in.” She giggled.
I hurried from my bed and threw open the front door and Claire, dressed in a gray sweater dress, black boots, and a plum knit hat, walked inside. “Morning!” she called as she headed straight for the kitchen and pulled out the bag of coffee beans and the grinder. I just let her go, busy little bee that she was, and hopped up onto the kitchen counter. I sighed.
Claire glanced over at me as she pulsed the beans. She stopped, lifting a brow. “Okay, spill it. I can see it on your face. Something’s up.”
“I think I’m crazy, Peeshwank,” I started.
She finished pouring the ground beans into the filter and filled the coffee pot with water. “You’re in lust with Jace the Tow Truck Guy.” She glanced at me. “Am I right?”
“Worse,” I admitted.
She stopped and looked at me, eyes wide as saucers. “You like him? As in…want to keep seeing him?”
I nodded and quickly told Claire about the date we’d just had.
Her eyes went all glassy and dreamy. “Oh my god, that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” she said in a whispery voice. “Old movie in the park.” She eyed me curiously. “So…what’s the problem?”
I shrugged. “I…want Jace. Want him to do more than kiss me. Which is really, really odd, come to think of it.” I crossed my legs. “I mean, usually it’s the guy who seems to have ten pairs of hands, all of them on me. Never, ever have I been with a guy who just…walked away.” Again, to clarify: Not because I thought I was all that. It’s just men—college-aged guys to be specific—had a one-track mind.
Claire giggled. “You silly goose. You obviously have struck gold! Hit the jackpot even!” She poked me in the ribs, and I squealed. “You have found the only mature guy at Winston who doesn’t think with his weiner!” She shook her skinny little arms above her head and did a little victory dance. “Woohoo! Jackpot!”
“Does this make me…trashy?” I asked. “Honest to god, Claire. I couldn’t sleep a wink last night. Rolled all over the damn place.”
She laughed as the coffee brewed, and grasped my hands in hers. “You could never be that, Memory Catherine Thibodeaux,” she said sweetly. “But take my advice: Take this slow with Jace. Don’t rush into anything. He may just be the one.”
I laughed and sighed. “This is the most fucked up conversation I’ve ever had,” I admitted. “Who’d have ever thought I’d meet someone so…like Jace?”
Claire’s eyes held mine, full of sincerity. “I’d say you were one lucky girl,” she said. “But he’s just as lucky to have stumbled onto you, my friend.”
Claire’s words stuck with me the rest of the day. The One? That was too deep. I couldn’t even consider The One. Unless it was The One Right Now. Yeah, that made it better. My tension eased, and the nervous inside jitters I’d had earlier eased, too.
Over the next two days, Jace and I were both busy with school and work. As soon as he finished classes he’d head straight to the garage. And me? I’d make a bee-line for my workshop, where I had four orders waiting on me. Staying busy was good, because it somewhat eased my mind about what I’d be facing on Wednesday when my dad came home. I wasn’t looking forward to it. At all.
As a matter of fact, I’d thought of lying to him about the whole damn thing.
The damn thing being my MRI results and the decision I’d made in his absence. Maybe I
was growing weary of keeping so much inside of me. None of my friends knew. Now Jace. But somehow, I managed to get a grip on it, push it back down, stuff it into some dark corner of my mind so I could function from day to day. It was becoming more difficult, though. It was taking a toll on me, yet I made sure it didn’t show. My friends? At school we were seniors, in our last semester and the thrill of accomplishment rushed through me, all the time, and whenever we were together, I allowed that rush to shine through. We were crazy. Fun.
After the movie in the park, Jace’s presence became a balm. He didn’t know it. Hell, maybe I didn’t, either. Not on a conscious level, anyway. All I knew was that I liked having him near me. He’d pull up into my drive after his shift was over, or he’d ring the cowbell at my workshop to alert me of his presence, and my insides would instantly go all gooey inside. At times I’d catch myself going a little breathless, just at the anticipation of seeing him. How crazy was that? When I’d be sitting on the porch steps waiting on him to arrive, or he’d surprise me when I was working on my orders, the very sight of him would make my skin flush. I’d literally feel the heat wash over me. And I’d turn and watch him doggedly make his way toward me with that sexy swagger and my face would stretch into a smile I couldn’t stop if I tried. And the way he’d walk right up to me and, in one fluid move, step into a slow, long kiss? Each time my rubbery knees seemed to get worse and worse. More rubbery. Even when he texted me, I’d see his face appear on my screen, those soulful eyes staring at me, and I’d feel a rush of giddy inside of me. Whatever the hell giddy was. And the oddest thing of all? It had only been a couple of weeks. I’d lost count of it now, but the time spent with Jace seemed like a natural passage of time. Like I’d known him way longer than I actually had. How normal was that, I wondered? Since I’d never experienced anything like it before, I had no freaking clue.
And all this without having had sex? I couldn’t imagine the epic eruption that would follow once that occurred.
When and if it occurred.
It’s been little more than a week since you first laid eyes on him, you nasty thing. Take a breath. A step back. The longer you wait, Memory, the sweeter it’ll be.
I flipped my inner voice a supremely poignant bird. I mean, after all, Jace and I had met in January and it was now almost February. I actually laughed out loud at both of my stupid selves as they argued with each other.
The night before my dad was due home, I was busy on a weld. Actually, several of them, as I’d designed small iron cups to catch the wind and turn the windmill I was working on, and so it was tedious, to say the least. Suddenly, I felt hot. Like a flash, all over my body. I shut down the welder and leaned against the sawhorse, and I couldn’t stand it anymore so I stepped outside and let the air cool my damp skin. I’d taken off my welding jacket, dropped it to the ground and, even with a tank on, I was still hot. Then the headache began. A slow knot, digging into the cap of my skull, and it came upon me so fast that I sat down on a cinder block beside the shop, leaned forward and squeezed my head between my hands. The pain grew; flashes started behind my eyelids. Nausea caught me off guard.
“Hey, hey,” Jace’s voice said beside me. When had he shown up? His hand went to my back, and I barely cracked my eyes to see he was crouched beside me. “Memory, what’s wrong?”
“Migraine,” I muttered, and rocked forward, pressing my skull. “Bad company. Sorry.”
In the very next second I went airborne, and Jace held me snuggly against him as he carried me…somewhere. The headache had taken such a hold on me, I thought I’d pass out.
Then we were inside, and Jace was laying me gently onto the sofa, and I instantly flipped onto my side and shoved my head into the pillows. He was gone for a moment, and when he returned a cold damp cloth was laid across the back of my neck.
“I’m right here,” he said softly, and in such a voice that it wasn’t intrusive, it wasn’t resounding. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Oh, hell. I needed my medicine! I hadn’t had to take any to fight off headaches or nausea in days. Now, of all times? I couldn’t send Jace after it. It was hidden, under my bed, along with the trial meds. “I’ll be okay,” I muttered. “It’ll pass.”
But it wouldn’t. Not for a while. This was no side effect of medicine. This was my brain, fucking itself up. I had to get to my room, and I had to do it alone. I steadied my breathing, willed myself not to lose it in front of him. He couldn’t know. No way. Not now.
Slowly, I pushed myself up. I knew the expression on my face probably looked like some rubber faced doll, but I forced myself to look as normal as possible. “I’m going to get out of these jeans,” I said. Pain seared behind my eyes. “Be right back.”
“I can help you, Memory,” Jace said.
“No, I’m okay,” I insisted, and before he could argue further I made it to my room. I knelt at my bed and hurriedly fished out nausea and migraine meds from my stash of Secret Drugs that helped settle the nasty side effects of The Miraculous Experimental Drugs. Grabbing a pair of boxers, I made it to the bathroom, changed, splashed water on my face, and swallowed the pills down. When I stumbled out of the bathroom, Jace was there.
“Memory, Jesus,” he muttered softly, then picked me up again. “Sofa or bed?” he asked.
“Sofa,” I said, and he lifted me and carried me there, laid me back down, and I resumed the awkward position of cramming my head into the arm of the sofa and throw pillows.
“I know this looks stupid,” I said, my voice muffled. “But it helps.”
Jace’s hand went to my hip and just rested there. “Then that’s what you should do.” I felt his body shift beside me, and his voice was as close as he could get to my ear. “I’m here if you need me. Rest.” A blanket was pulled over me. And finally, I fell asleep.
I blinked my eyes open to find a room pitch dark—except for the shaft of moonlight that managed to squeeze between a crack in the drapes and fall across the living room floor. A silhouette sat beside me, on the floor and next to the sofa. Head bowed. Knees up, arms resting atop them. Captain Gregg was right beside him. The moment I stirred, both of their heads lifted.
“Hey,” Jace said, and his quiet voice broke the stillness in the air. His hand moved to my arm, and his caress was gentle. Comforting. “You gonna make it?”
My insides stilled at his words. They’re just words, Memory. He doesn’t know.
“I am, thanks to you,” I said. “And I see you’ve made a friend.” The pressure was still there, a slight throb to let me know it wasn’t leaving for good, but the pain had dissipated. The nausea was gone. Thank god I hadn’t ralphed all over the place.
Still on the floor, he scooted closer to me, and he smoothed my hair with his hand. “Does that happen often?” Captain Gregg moved over, laid his head on his paws, and silently watched us.
Lord Jesus, forgive me. “No, I think the arc flash caused it. I’ve been at it since around three o’clock.”
He rubbed the back of my head, strong fingers working against my skull and it really felt nice, and he was quiet for a moment. “Yeah well, be careful from now on. That didn’t look like too much fun.”
“Ten-four, chief,” I said, and gave a little salute. I turned on my side because in my sleep I’d rolled to my back, and I ruffled his hair. “You didn’t have to stay here with me, you know.”
His laugh was soft, comical. “Yeah. Right. You’re rolling all over the place like you got rabies and I’m just going to walk out the door and leave you to it?” He shook his head. “Sorry, Ms. Thibodeaux. Not happening. But I do need to head on home.”
“What time is it?” I asked. It was so dark, but it was when the headache had hit.
“Two thirty in the morning,” Jace offered.
“Oh my god! I’m sorry,” I said, and pushed myself up. “Jace, you didn’t have to stay so late.” I stood and tugged his arm and he rose, too, his height towering over mine, so it seemed. Another thing I wasn’t used to. “Go. Get some rest. Or,”
I suddenly thought. “Stay here.”
The living room was dark, but my eyes had adjusted to the beam of moonlight streaming in, and I could see Jace’s face, cut into shadowy planes and arcs. He smiled, and his lips curved up just right, and he pulled me against him, his arms around my waist.
“That is a tempting offer,” he murmured against my ear. Then, he looked at me. “And I know we’re both adults but, well.” He sighed. “I’m not trying to be noble, Memory. I’m not. I…want to be with you. But it can’t be here. In your father’s house.” He grinned and lifted my hands to his lips. “That’s probably the corniest thing you’ve ever heard. But I am the way I am.”
Could it be possible to fall for someone so quickly? And over just a few profound words and actions? No, it couldn’t be. This was the Cupcake Phase. Right? When everything was fresh and new and delicious and gooey and cute and He Couldn’t Do Anything Wrong because Everything He Did Was Absolutely Adorable. I’d wade it out. See how things went beyond Cupcake.
But I grinned. My heart squeezed a little. And I locked my arms around his neck, pressed my lips to his throat, and gave him a little nibble. “Not corny, not at all. Definitely a first, though,” I said softly against his skin. A little rough. A little salty. “I’m adding it to the things that I really, really like about you, Mr. Beaumont.”
He laughed lightly, and I felt his chest rumble against mine, and then he looked at me. “I know your dad is coming home, today, technically,” he said, and kissed my jaw. “So I’ll see you soon.”
“Do…you want to meet him?” I hesitantly asked. “I know that’s usually reserved for—”
“Absolutely,” he interrupted. “I do.” He kissed my nose. “Feel better.”
I somehow managed to fall back asleep after Jace left, and my alarm woke me at seven thirty. I hurried through a shower, chores, and made it to class just in time. Usually the day dragged by, but today? When faced with something I absolutely dreaded doing? Like a bolt of lightning, my last class was over, and by the time I pulled down the lane, and I saw my dad’s pick-up, my stomach seized. Jesus Christ Almighty, I don’t want to do this.