by Isabel North
“Let’s pretend for a moment that velociraptors are real—”
“They’re real.”
“If there are any, they’re not hungry. I’ve been here for two days.”
“They could have been watching you. Biding their time.” Lila’s pupils shrank. “Now I scared myself.”
Jenny took Lila to the small terraced area at the back of the building. Lila left Jenny and ran back to her car, returning with a two-cup carrier of iced lattes, and a folded picnic blanket under her arm. “One more thing,” she said, and clattered off on her high heels.
Jenny flattened a patch of the long grass and spread out the blanket. Sitting cross-legged, she opened up the first-aid kit she kept in her backpack, and cleaned her scratched-up arms with a medicated wipe.
Lila returned, walking with a deliberate catwalk strut as she held out a large metal A-frame sign like a ring girl at a boxing match. Jenny, who had been applying a bandage to a sluggishly oozing scratch, froze.
“What is that?” she said.
“You like it?” Lila dumped the sign, kicked it open with a practiced move, and stepped to one side.
Jenny scrambled over to kneel in front of it. “I love it.”
Finley Landscaping, the sign proclaimed in bold turquoise script against a sunny yellow background. Below was an email address, Jenny’s cell number, and right at the bottom, Ronnie’s Pots & Plants.
Jenny put a fist to her mouth. “I love it,” she said again. “I love you. This is awesome!”
“It was a rush job, but I know a guy. If you don’t like the colors, we can get it redone.”
“It’s perfect. Lila. Thank you!”
Lila scuttled back when Jenny jumped up and went to hug her. “You are sweating like nobody’s business, and this blouse is silk.” But her smile was wide, her eyes dancing.
They sprawled on the picnic blanket and settled in to eat lunch.
Lila’s was a salad with about four pasta noodles and an olive in it.
Jenny’s was a PB&J and an apple.
Tomorrow, she might get crazy and add a cookie. Or twelve. She was burning calories like a lumberjack on this job. At this rate, she could eat an entire box of Megan’s muffins for lunch, and still lose weight.
Lila had kicked off her stilettos, untucked her blouse, and lay on her stomach. She sucked noisily on the straw stuck in her skinny iced latte. Her ankles were crossed in the air, her chin was in her hand, and she was staring at Jenny.
Jenny, crunching her apple, stared back.
This had been going on for some time.
Eventually, Jenny couldn’t take it anymore. She finished her apple, tossed the core into the brambles for the velociraptors, and said, “What?”
Lila reached the bottom of her latte and drew out the gurgling drain noise as long as she could. She propped her chin in both hands. “Something’s going on with you.”
“A lot’s going on with me.”
Lila’s eyes narrowed as she assessed Jenny. “Did you go to the gym without me again?”
“No. I promised it was a one-time thing, and I keep my promises. Besides, I don’t need to go to the gym. I think I’ve lost five pounds already.”
“The way you’re sweating, I wouldn’t get too excited. It’s probably water weight.” Lila slapped at a fly. “I definitely prefer the gym. Air conditioning. And prettier surroundings.”
“This will be pretty when I’m done.”
“But since you’re designing this as a garden for the enjoyment of toddlers to seniors and everyone in between, it’s not going to have the kind of pretty I’m talking about. As in, hot men lifting weights. What’s going on? I sense something…different.”
Jenny hesitated.
Lila sat up. “Tell me.”
“I kissed Derek. I kissed him a lot.”
“What? When? Was it good? Forget that, of course it was good. Is he a face holder? He is, isn’t he? Tender cheek cupping, am I right? Does he play with your hair?”
“He does everything. That’s all I’m willing to share.”
“Hell no, it is not. I’m your best friend. Your best friend who brings you refreshing mineral mists and cool new business signs.” She shook Jenny’s empty latte cup at her. “And ice-cold caffeinated beverages. Details. Gimme.”
“Nice try.”
Lila sighed. “Hit me with the highlights, then.”
“He came over to discuss the bill for fixing my car and we ended up…fooling around.” Jenny remembered the feel of Derek shuddering in climax beneath her, and bit her lip.
“Wow.” Lila pointed at Jenny’s arms. “You’ve got goosebumps even though it’s hot enough I can hear my sunscreen hissing into vapor as we speak. It must have been something.”
“It was.”
“And out of nowhere. What made him decide to stop giving you the polite-but-distant treatment?”
Jenny rubbed the back of her neck and slid Lila a glance.
“Uh-oh. I know that look. What did you do? Did you jump him?”
Jenny took a deep breath. “Remember about six months ago when Derek drove us back from Kurt’s?”
“Yes.” Lila tensed. “You slept with him!”
“No! Well, kind of.”
Lila looked like she was going to burst. She waved her hands incoherently.
“I slept with him in that he was there overnight. In my bed. With me. We had pizza, he carried me up to bed, and I guess I kinda—” she rolled her eyes at herself, “—I snuggled him a bit. Next thing I know, it’s morning, and he’s still there, and it’s perfect.”
“You had sex with him.”
“I did something stupid.”
“You didn’t have sex with him?”
“I panicked. I pretended that I thought he was Gabe because Gabe and I were having a secret affair, and Derek got…mad.”
“Why would you even do that?”
“I told you, I panicked! I wasn’t ready! It seemed like a great idea! Then my car broke down, and Kate made a comment about Nora being pregnant. Derek thought I was pregnant, which was hella flattering, let me tell you. Point is, I couldn’t pretend to be seeing Gabe anymore. Derek fixed my car, came over about the bill, and we ended up on the floor.”
“The floor? He’s an animal. Way better than tender cheek cupping. You lucky thing.”
Jenny was almost sure that she was the one responsible for them ending up on the floor, but there had been so much wild heaving and thrashing it was hard to be certain.
“Lila.” She dropped her voice low. “He’s going to have sex with me.”
“You. Lucky. Thing.” Lila turned serious. “You do feel lucky, don’t you? I know I talk a lot of shit, but Jenny, Derek wanting you is irrelevant if you don’t—”
“I do. I want him.” She heaved a sigh. “Oh God, I want him. I just don’t know how to do it.”
“Again? Okay. When a man and a woman love each other very much—”
“Funny, except I don’t need the birds and the bees talk, what with having had my own little bee. I have a bee! I have a daughter. How do you have sex with a child in the house?”
Lila shrugged. “How complicated can it be? Parents do it all the time.”
“Derek isn’t a parent. I’m the parent. I don’t want to be a bad mother, having trysts with my lover with my child a couple of rooms down. It feels skeevy.”
“Don’t do it at your house, then. It’s not the only option. And yes, you’re a mother. You’re a woman, too, Jenny. If you were taking random guys home on a Saturday night I’d be all, ‘Hey, lady, take better care of my goddaughter and protect her home environment’. But we’re not talking about random guys. It’s one guy. It’s Derek. Kate knows him. You trust him. Whatever you’re doing with him, it isn’t casual.”
“It’s casual. It has to be casual. The only possible way we can have anything is if I keep it casual.”
Lila’s eyelids flickered and she smoothly corrected, “Whatever you’re doing, it’s no big thing, i
t’s just fun.”
No big thing? Right. Derek had kissed her, and Jenny’s whole world had changed.
Now he knew that all he had to do was remove his shirt, unbutton his jeans, and she was helpless.
He’d told her he was going to push. He’d told her she could go ahead and fight. He wasn’t going to stop.
She didn’t want him to. Ever.
The fact of it was, Derek Tate had already seduced her. They might not have had sex yet, but it was a matter of opportunity, nothing else. Her stomach twisted, low. This was happening.
She was going to do it.
But she was going to keep it casual. On her terms. Derek could take it or leave it.
She really hoped he took her.
It.
She really hoped he took it.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Derek closed the hood of the Tahoe he’d been working on and headed to the office to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. He was halfway across the workshop before he registered the stranger standing by the open bay doors, looking around with interest.
Changing direction, Derek strolled over to the visitor with a smile. “Can I help you?”
The man was wearing a dark suit, had an enormous camera in one hand and a tablet in a leather case in the other. He shifted when Derek spoke, and stepped sideways into a puddle of rainbow-streaked oily water. He raised his dress shoe and examined the sole, lip curling in disgust. “No. Thank you.”
Derek folded his arms over his chest as the man slung the camera strap around his neck and flipped the tablet screen toward him with a practiced move. He typed something on it with spider-like speed.
“Derek!” Another man, short and stocky, with thinning silver hair, came in behind the first and strode over to join them.
“Marshall,” Derek said, shaking hands. “Wasn’t expecting a visit.” He looked from Marshall to the man and back. His jaw tightened. “How are you doing?”
“Good, thanks. Yes. Good. You?”
“Confused.” Derek sent a pointed look at the stranger.
“Ah. Right. Derek, this is Jim Lassiter. My realtor. We’re here for him to get an idea of the place, take photos, assess the market value and all that.”
Burke, close by, was listening. Dani was throwing interested glances their way. Annoyed, Derek said, “Shall we discuss this in my office?” It didn’t sound even remotely like a polite suggestion.
Marshall’s eyes widened at Derek’s command, but he said, “Sure, sure,” and followed after Derek.
The realtor’s camera flashed behind them. Derek flinched. It took all he had not to spin around and snatch it off the little weasel.
Once in the office, he gestured the men to the couch he and his employees used on breaks. They sat. Derek didn’t, choosing to perch instead on the edge of Harry’s battered old desk.
He blinked again when the camera flashed as Lassiter took a shot of the view through the large window that looked out into the workshop. “Cut it out,” he said.
“I do need to take photos,” Lassiter said mildly.
“Not right now, you don’t,” Derek told him.
Lassiter set the camera down on his lap, folded his hands, and smiled.
Derek turned to his landlord. “Marshall, you can’t show up without calling ahead first. It’s my place of business. Until today, my employees didn’t know their jobs are at risk. I haven’t decided how to deal with it yet, and you’re forcing my hand. This is not cool.”
Marshall’s ruddy cheeks darkened, contrasting with his neat silver beard. He fidgeted like a chastened preschooler. “I didn’t think it would be a problem. It’s just to value the property. I haven’t seen it since Dad died, can you believe? Lassiter here’s going to be managing the sale, and he hasn’t seen it at all.”
“I get that. You still should have called ahead to agree a mutually convenient time.”
“I didn’t think you’d mind. Again, sorry.” He cleared his throat. “How are things progressing with the bank?”
“I’m working on a loan. It’s looking good. Doable, if we keep to what we agreed.”
Marshall nodded and settled back into the couch. “Of course.”
Lassiter scooched to the edge and angled his upper body toward his client in an attempt to block Derek as he said in a low voice, “I wasn’t aware you had already reached an agreement with a buyer.”
“Nothing formal,” Marshall said cheerfully.
“Perhaps we should make it formal,” Derek said.
“Perhaps we should hold on that until I’ve had a chance to appraise the property,” Lassiter put in.
“If you think that’s best,” Marshall said. Derek was about to object when Marshall continued, “But my preference is for Derek to have it. I want Rawlings’ Auto Repairs to stay on-site.”
Lassiter shifted even further to the edge of the couch. Another inch and he’d fall off. “I wouldn’t advise being too hasty. This building has the potential to sell well, Marshall. Very well. After a bit of work, that is.”
“Can’t put a price on legacy, though. Eh, Derek?” Marshall braced his hands on his thighs and heaved up, obliging Lassiter to also rise and get out of his way, or be jostled off the couch. “As we’re here already, d’you mind if we go ahead and get it done?”
Derek did mind. He minded a lot, but if he said no, they’d be back again another day.
The prospect did not fill him with joy.
“What’s going on, boss?” Burke asked later when Derek, drinking his water, stood keeping an eye on Lassiter as the twitchy little creep poked around, sneering at everything. From the cars they were working on to the puddles on the floor.
Derek swallowed and recapped the bottle. “I’m thinking of buying the garage.”
“Huh,” was all Burke had to say on the matter. Didn’t help that he managed to load it with enough surprise and doubt that he might as well have slapped Derek on the back, doubled over laughing, and demanded to know when, exactly, Derek had won the lottery/inherited a fortune from a heretofore unknown rich relative/robbed a bank.
When the time came for Marshall to leave, his obvious nostalgia went some way to easing Derek’s concern that Marshall would sell the building out from under him.
“You sure you want to sell?” Derek asked, walking him out into the sunny forecourt.
Marshall sighed. “I don’t,” he admitted, “but I have to. The wife wants a pool. If I sell, we’ll have enough for a house with a pool. I hear it gets hot down in Texas.” He laughed.
Derek didn’t join in.
“I am sorry, Derek. It’s one of those things, you know? I want to sell it to you. Don’t you worry about Lassiter. He’ll try and persuade me to go with the highest bidder, but I’m not a bad man, and I’m not as easy to control as he thinks. I’ve got his number. I also mean what I said about legacy. I’ve lived in Emerson all my life. Feels strange to be starting over somewhere new. Unsettling. I’m sixty-eight, for crying out loud. I like the idea of this still being here.”
Derek managed to dredge up a smile.
“Get the loan and the place is yours, son. Unless,” Marshall added, eyes twinkling, “someone offers me millions for it. In which case, you’re out. Ha ha.”
“Ha,” Derek said politely, and breathed a sigh of relief when the men left.
* * * *
“He’s under there.” Burke’s voice boomed overhead, and the floor rang with the sound of his boots walking away.
Hoping it wasn’t Marshall again, back to take another run at ruining his day, Derek angled his head to look out from under the jacked-up Chevy.
His visitor crouched, braced a hand on the concrete floor to stay balanced, and Jenny came into view. The irritation that had been eating away at Derek since his earlier meeting with Marshall vanished. “Hi.”
“Hi.” She leaned her weight into her hand and sent a nervous look under the truck. “Is this safe?” she said. “It doesn’t look safe.”
“It’s safe.”
/>
“It looks as if it’s going to drop on your head.”
“It’s not going to drop on my head. Even if it does drop, the wheels will keep it clear.”
This last bit didn’t seem to reassure her. At all. “Even if it…? Derek, come out.” The hand not braced on the floor landed on his thigh.
Derek took in a deep breath.
Jenny’s fingers dug into the fabric of his jeans and she tugged. “Come out. Right now.”
Amused, he wheeled himself out. “You worrying about me?”
“Yes. I don’t want to see you crushed by a car.”
“Aww.” He sat up, bringing him eye level with her in her crouch. “You care.”
“I don’t want to see anyone crushed by a car. Can you imagine the cost of the therapy?”
Derek kissed her quickly, steadying her when she wobbled. “What can I do for you, baby?”
“Huh?” Jenny was staring at his mouth. “Yes. Um, I’m here to talk. About the pizza.”
Derek stood, pulling her up with him. His gaze moved over her face. “No. You’re here to wriggle out of it.”
“Not true.”
Derek made a soft noise and caught her slender arm, lifting it to examine the long scratches.
“Ignore that,” she said, easing away. “I am waging war on brambles. Don’t worry. Despite how it looks, I’m winning.”
She was wearing cargo pants, work boots, and a dirt-streaked T-shirt. She’d caught the sun—mainly her nose had caught the sun, going by the strip of shiny pink skin down the length of it—and her strawberry blonde hair was tied back. Damp tendrils were escaping the ponytail, and Derek hooked a stray wisp behind her ear.
He let his fingers drift down her neck, and felt her shiver under his touch.
“You should think about wearing long sleeves,” he told her. He tapped her nose. “Maybe a hat.”
Jenny slapped him away. “I did wear a hat, and have you been outside today? I almost had to strip down to my underwear, it was so hot. Long sleeves would kill me.”
“Now I’m thinking about you in nothing but your underwear and work boots.”
She glanced down at her boots with a frown, then grinned at him. “Oh, very sexy.”
“Yes.”