Barking Up the Wrong Tree

by Jenn McKinlay

  Zach’s mouth popped open and then he hooted. “Did he just use a Star Wars reference for sex? Dude, you are our people! Come on, chest bump!”

  Without waiting for James, Zach jumped at him and bounced off of his chest. On a scale of manliness, it was a pitiful example, but he liked Zach’s goofiness. Carly sighed in defeat and James grinned. He was getting to her—maybe like a hangnail, but he was getting to her.

  “So, why are you looking for some gland to gland combat?” Zach asked Carly. James snorted and they shared a knuckle bump. “Correct me if I’m wrong but I thought this guy here already serviced your engine.”

  “OMG,” Carly snapped. “We are not—NOT—discussing my sex life and most especially not in front of the person that I was just—”

  “Bone storming,” Sam said.

  “Lust and thrusting,” Jillian offered.

  “Organ grinding,” Gavin said.

  “Roughing up the suspect,” Mac said.

  “Beard-splitting,” Brad offered.

  “Slamming the clam,” Emma said.

  “Yeah.” Zach belly laughed with the rest of them. “All of that.”

  “You know what?” Carly asked. “It’s none of your business. It’s nobody’s business but mine and now I’m going home. Thank you all for nothing.”

  “Aw, don’t go away mad,” Zach said. “We love you. We’re just teasing you.”

  “We’re sorry,” Jillian chimed in. “We just got carried away with the whole euphemism thing. Forgive?”

  Jillian clasped her hands under her chin and made with the big sad eyes and the rest of the crew did the same. When Sam elbowed James, he did, too. Carly glowered at them but it had lost its heat.

  “Fine, you big jerks are forgiven, but I’m still going home,” she said. With a wave, she strode toward the door.

  Jillian rose from her seat to go with her, but James waved her back, indicating she should stay.

  “I got this,” he said.

  The group exchanged a look and he realized they were deciding if he was trustworthy or not. Instead of feeling insulted, he was pleased that they were cautious with their friend.

  “You seem like a nice guy,” Zach said. “So, I’m going to tell you straight-up, don’t get your hopes up with Carly. She’ll break your heart.”

  James paused. He suspected that Carly and Zach had a special relationship and now he wondered how special. “Are you speaking from experience?”

  “No.” Zach shook his shaggy head of blonde hair. “You have to have a heart for it be broken.”

  His answer was flip—too flip—and James suspected there was some heavy shizzle in Zach’s past, but now was not the time. He stepped back from the table and raised his hands in the air as if showing he had no weapons or ulterior motives.

  “I promise just to watch over her and make sure she gets home safely.”

  The group exchanged another glance and then Jillian nodded.

  “Phone,” she said. James took his out of his pocket and she touched her phone to his, automatically putting her contact info into his phone. “Text me when she’s home.”

  “Will do,” he said. Then he turned and bolted after Carly, hoping she hadn’t managed to pick up four more guys on her way out.

  He saw her meandering her way up the pier. She was gesturing with her hands as if she was having an in-depth discussion with an invisible friend.

  “I just don’t understand it,” she was muttering. “This dress has never failed me. Never. But look at me, I’m going home alone. I think I may have to burn this dress.”

  James pressed his lips together to keep from protesting. Much as he didn’t want her to wear it in public, he also didn’t want her to torch it either.

  “Hey, buddy,” he said. “Do you need a ride?”

  “No, thanks. I’m going to call an Uber,” she said. She pulled out her phone as if to do just that when James took the phone out of her hands.

  “No need,” he said. “I’ll give you a ride.”

  She looked at him suspiciously.

  “Just a ride,” he said. Her eyes narrowed and he added, “In my car to your house, where I will then leave to go to my house.”

  “No funny business,” she said.

  “Of course not, buddy,” he said.

  “Stop that.”

  James hid his smile as they stepped off the pier and crossed the small parking lot to where his SUV sat waiting. Per usual, he opened her door and gave her a boost into the car.

  He tried not to notice how her dress rode up a sweet couple of inches in back before she quickly tugged it down. Tried and failed. As he walked around the car, he pulled on the collar of his shirt, trying to get some of the cold night air to hit his skin and cool him off. It didn’t work.

  They were both quiet on the drive across town to Carly’s house. There were a million things James wanted to say about tonight, but he knew he’d be better off waiting until she didn’t look like she wanted to stab him with the business end of her shoe.

  “So, how goes the job hunt?” he asked.

  “Slow,” she said. “I’ve sent my résumé all over New York, and only gotten two phone interviews. I finally had to send it to a few retail stores in Boston, and I even sent it to Penmans in Portland. I feel like I must reek of desperation.”

  “Penmans, huh?” he asked. “That’s only a half hour away.”

  “Don’t remind me,” she said. “It’s hard to pretend you’re getting away when you look for jobs within fifty miles of the place you’re trying to escape. You know, I’ve been a retail fashion buyer for almost ten years. You’d think that would mean something. Ugh, I can’t talk about it. It makes me feel like such a loser.”

  “Something will turn up,” he said. He knew it was a pathetic platitude, but it was all he had to offer at the moment. Besides, it was taking all of his self-control not to do a fist pump of victory that she might stay within datable range.

  When they got to her house, he had barely stopped the car before she hopped out and strode up the walkway to the front door. James followed after her, making sure she got in okay.

  When he took her elbow to help her navigate the steps to the porch, she turned on him so fast, she wobbled on her heels and he had to catch her before she toppled backwards off the steps.

  “See?” she asked. “That’s why you’re a liar, James Sinclair.”

  He set her back on her feet and followed her to the front door.

  “Okay, I’ll bite,” he said. His heart hammered in his chest. Did she know how he felt about her staying? “What did I lie about?”

  “A ‘buddy,’” she said, making air quotes with her fingers, “would let me walk up the stairs by myself and not see me to the door.”

  “In those shoes with the amount you’ve had to drink?” he asked. He felt his heart slow down as the panic ebbed. “That’d make me a pretty lousy friend.”

  She tossed her hair over her shoulder and bent to unlock the door. Once the lock clicked and she pushed the door open, she turned to face him.

  “You don’t want to be just friends,” she said.

  “I think I was pretty clear about that,” he agreed. “But if that’s all you’re offering, then I expect I’ll learn to make do.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Good night, buddy.”

  He turned and left, not daring to look at her for fear he’d lose his good intentions and make a move to sweep away their friend status once and for all. He couldn’t do that, not until he told her the truth about having met her before. Every step farther from her about killed him, and the only thing that made it even the teensiest bit bearable was the way Carly stomped into the house and slammed the door after him, clearly feeling as frustrated as he was.

  James grinned when he fired up his car and drove away.

  Chapter 15

&
nbsp; The Driscolls—Mom, Dad, Chance, and Lexi—had seen Carly’s ad in the paper and had come to the shop to meet Ike. They seemed like a quiet family, so what they wanted with a parrot, Carly could not fathom, but if it got Ike off her hands and in with people who were kind she was A-okay with it.

  “Say ‘hello,’ Ike,” she coaxed him.

  The Driscolls crowded around Ike’s cage in the corner of Jillian’s bakery. They watched the exotic green bird in wonder as if he was about to start spouting Shakespeare.

  “Hello,” Ike said. “Hello.”

  “Ah!” Lexi, the youngest and most enthusiastic Driscoll, gasped and clapped her hands. “He talks. He really talks.”

  “Amazing,” her mother said with a small smile.

  “What else can he say?” Chance asked.

  “Oh, a lot of things,” Carly said, knowing full well that she was being evasive. “He picks stuff up pretty quickly.”

  The bells on the shop door jangled and she glanced up to see James walk in with Hot Wheels at his side. Her heart did a stupid lurch in her chest and she could feel her face get warm like she was thirteen and her crush had just walked into the room, instead of being thirty-two and having the last guy she’d seen naked appear on her turf. It was mortifying.

  She wiped her hand across her forehead as if she were pink because she was hot and sweaty from working so hard. Given that it was October and the temperature in the shop was cool because outside it was in the fifties, this made a liar out of her, but she hoped James wasn’t that observant.

  She supposed it was perfectly natural that he had come to see her. They had shared a pretty amazing night together and he’d made it very clear at the bar last night that he was interested in more. She would let him down as easily as she could.

  She turned to the Driscolls and said, “I will just let the five of you get acquainted. Let me know if you have any questions.”

  The family nodded and Carly crossed the room toward James. She was so glad she had taken the time to style her wavy hair into fat curls that bounced across her shoulders, not because she cared what he thought, she assured herself, but because looking her best gave her confidence. Yeah, that was it.

  She glanced down in a quick outfit check. She was relieved that she had chosen one of her best outfits today, a low cut ruby red cashmere sweater over a snug pair of jeans and her favorite combat boots. It was the perfect mix of feminine and ass kicker that she strived to maintain.

  “Hi, Hot Wheels,” she greeted the basset hound first, crouching down to rub his head and scratch his back around the bands of his halter the way she’d noticed that he liked. “How ya doin’, boy? Good? Saul is in the yard out back if you want to meet him.”

  Hot Wheels wagged and gave her a soft woof. She smiled as she stood up to face James.

  “Hi, Carly,” he said. He kept his eyes on hers but she could tell it was an effort to keep them from roaming over her figure as he’d started to glance down and then forced his gaze back up.

  “Hi, James,” she said. “I suppose we should talk about this.”

  He tipped his head and looked at her. “I’m sorry, about what?”

  “About you showing up at my work,” she said. “I’m flattered but I thought I was clear—”

  The door to the kitchen opened and both James and Carly glanced over to see Jillian enter the bakery, carrying a big tray of freshly baked whoopie pies for the display case.

  “There she is,” James said. He turned back to Carly and squeezed her elbow. “Great to see you, but I need to talk to Jillian.” He turned to walk away but then glanced back and said, “You look fantastic by the way. I really love the color red on you.”

  “Uh . . . thanks,” Carly said. She watched as he approached Jillian, with Hot Wheels at his side—yes, even the dog had abandoned her—and almost choked when Jillian put down her tray and greeted him with a hug.

  James carried the tray for her and Carly watched as the two of them unloaded the pies into the case while they talked.

  What the what? When had the two of them become pals? Jillian threw her head back and laughed at something James said. Carly sucked in a breath through her nose and spun around so that she couldn’t see them anymore.

  Was something going on between them? How could Jillian not have told her? When could that have happened? James had driven Carly home last night . . . unless, had he gone back to the bar to join the others after taking her home?

  Hot, searing jealousy coursed through her veins like lava headed down a steep hill destroying everything in its wake, including her common sense and ability to reason. And yet, even knowing this, she couldn’t stop it.

  She turned back and marched over to where the two of them were standing. She glowered at them until Jillian finally noticed her and paused in unloading the whoopie pies.

  “What’s wrong, Carly? Do you need a hand with something?”

  “I think the question is, do you?” she asked James.

  He nodded. “Most definitely, but no worries, Jillian’s going to take care of it for me.”

  What the heck did that mean? Was he hitting up Jillian for sexy time? Carly’s head whipped back toward Jillian and she practically shouted, “What?!”

  “Well, it’s bigger than I’m used to, I admit, but I think I have the skill set to help him out, don’t you?” she asked.

  “No!” Carly said. Having never perched on the moral high ground before she found the footing treacherous and yet she didn’t budge and added, “I don’t.”

  Jillian looked taken aback but Carly kept on going. The green-eyed monster inside of her was out for blood and it wasn’t going to stop until it got some.

  “How can you even think it?” Carly asked. “Isn’t it against some basic set of ethics or principles or common decency?”

  “Way to be supportive,” Jillian said. She looked quite miffed and a little hurt. “I have been handling stuff like this for years, you know, and what I don’t know I’m sure I can look up in a book.”

  Carly felt as if her eyes were going to pop out of her skull. James just stood there, looking at Jillian as if she was the answer to all of his problems, while Jillian talked about consulting a book on how to handle him. How could a guy find that attractive? The woman was going to consult a manual for goodness’ sake.

  “This doesn’t strike you as awkward at all?” Carly asked. She gestured from herself to James to Jillian and then back to herself. “See? Weird.”

  “You’re being weird.” Jillian nodded. “At least that we can agree upon.”

  “I am not,” Carly said. She wanted to stomp her foot. She wanted to knock over a display shelf of Maine tchotchkes. She didn’t. Instead, she just stood there while the two of them went on with their witty banter.

  “So, when can I swing by?” James asked.

  “The bakery opens at nine,” Jillian said. “If you can come by then, I’ll have more time to talk to you about what you want.”

  “Oh, he knows what he wants,” Carly snapped

  “I’m not so sure,” James disagreed. “Clearly, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Oh, you’ll be fine,” Jillian said. “I’ll talk you through it.”

  Carly glanced between them. Something here was off. They didn’t look like two people who were planning an amorous rendezvous. She was missing something.

  “Wait! What exactly are you two talking about?” she asked.

  “James is placing a huge order of custom-baked whoopie pies for an upcoming event,” Jillian said. “Why? What did you think we were talking about?”

  Carly felt her green-eyed monster slink back down inside of her gut with its spiky tail tucked between its legs. Well, wasn’t this mortifying? Here she had thought they were hooking up for a little slap and tickle and instead it was a discussion of baked goods. She closed her eyes as she tried to figure out h
ow to backpedal without hurting herself.

  James tipped his head to the side as he considered her. His lips curved up higher on the right side and he looked like he was trying not to laugh. She got the feeling he knew exactly what she had been thinking and he was amused by it. That was even more irritating than being wrong.

  Jillian, bless her heart, seemed to have no idea. Because it would never even occur to Jillian to make a play for a guy Carly had hooked up with, proving once again that Jillian was a much better person than Carly.

  “Are you all right?” Jillian asked. “You look a little pale. Is it the family looking at Ike, are they awful? Do you have to say no?”

  Carly glanced at the Driscolls, who seemed quite taken with Ike. She wondered why that didn’t make her feel any better. It should. It was her first step toward freedom. She stiffened her spine. Of course she would be thrilled to unload Ike. Thrilled!

  “No, it’s not them,” she said. She scanned her brain for a reason for her boorish behavior, while avoiding James’s amused gaze by staring at the wall just over his shoulder. “Gina and I haven’t been getting on, it’s making me surly.”

  “Miss!” Lexi called from across the shop. “Can we take him out of his cage?”

  “Excuse me,” Carly said. “I’d better . . .”

  She let her words trail off as she left them. She felt like such a tool. How could she have been jealous of James talking to Jillian? She was never jealous. Never.

  Her one very brief relationship had cured her of it. She had spent most of that relationship consumed with jealousy. The sort that festered in her gut like a hot boil, causing her to behave in a variety of horrifying stalkerish ways that ultimately led to her imploding in a big public scene in front of the awful boyfriend and all of his fraternity brothers.

  Even the memory left a horrible taste in Carly’s mouth. And people wondered why she didn’t do relationships. Irrational jealousy was one of the many reasons she avoided them like an outbreak of back acne.