I’m going on a blind date. With an older guy.
Surely April wasn’t there with Wayne Nordstrom. But even as she hoped that wasn’t the case, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that was a very real possibility.
She’d met Wayne the day of the fire, and she hadn’t liked him. Not only did he have that youthful arrogance she found so unappealing, he’d looked her up and down as if she was one of his dad’s prime head of beef and he hadn’t eaten in a while.
Trying not to panic, Claire quickly reviewed her options. Mrs. Sandy and Tony were both out of town. Even if she could reach them, it would take over an hour for them to get back.
Claire grabbed her purse just as the clock chimed six in the background. She was going to be late for dinner, but it couldn’t be helped. The unfortunate thing was she couldn’t even call Tony and tell him what was happening. His meeting wouldn’t be over until six-thirty, and his cell phone would be turned off until then.
Tony would be disappointed she wasn’t there on time. But he’d never want her to let a friend down. April needed her help, and Claire couldn’t desert her.
She pulled her keys from her purse and headed out the door. Claire started the Jeep and headed down the road. She said a little prayer. That April would be okay. That she would be able to help. And that Tony would understand.
Chapter Twelve
The Nordstrom house sat a quarter mile back from the road. Two rows of cedar trees lined each side of a gravel drive leading to the two-story house.
Claire pulled into the farmyard, recognizing Wayne’s tan pickup immediately. But she’d never seen the Mercedes convertible next to it. Between the hundred-year-old house with its peeling paint and the rusty pickup that was probably new when Reagan was in the White House, the car was as out of place as Claire.
Claire wheeled Tony’s Jeep into the space between the car and the truck. She hoped April was overreacting. Claire took the front steps two at a time and prayed that was the case.
The door opened immediately, and Claire stared. Before her was probably the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen in person. Eyes as blue as the shiny finish on the Mercedes glittered at her.
Claire knew she’d never met this guy before, but she recognized him at once. There was no way any woman could forget that face. He was classically handsome with finely shaped features and hair the color of spun gold. The man’s lips widened in a broad smile. His teeth were straight and white, as perfect as the rest of him.
“Welcome.” He opened the door wide and motioned her in. “April said she’d called a friend. She just didn’t tell us you were so pretty.”
It was the type of comment that Claire normally took in stride…even expected. But with April’s call fresh in her mind, a deep sense of unease settled over her.
“I don’t believe we’ve met.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Claire Waters.”
“Jay Nordstom.” He took her hand, and his palm was soft and smooth.
“I’ve heard all about you.” She finally remembered where she’d seen him. “You’re Millville’s big success story. The town’s golden boy who’s on the cover of this month’s GQ. I thought your mother said you lived in LA.”
“I do.” Jay chuckled, even though Claire couldn’t see what was funny. “Ever been there?”
It was all she could do not to laugh out loud. She wanted to tell him she’d probably been in more major cities than he’d ever dreamed of seeing, but instead she just smiled. “No, but I’ve been to Des Moines…once.”
He chuckled again and draped his arm around her shoulders, ushering her inside. “Next month People magazine is doing a feature on me.”
“Wow.” Claire widened her eyes and tried to keep the sarcasm from her voice. “I wished I’d brought my autograph book.”
He stared for a moment as if trying to figure out if she was really impressed. Little did he know she’d grown up around famous people, beautiful people her whole life. Though she found it easier to look at a pretty face than an ugly one, Jay’s smug arrogance was a turnoff.
Claire and Tony had both heard all about him and his skyrocketing career the day of the fire. While his father had been busy with the insurance adjuster, his mother had entertained Claire and Tony with pictures of Jay and tales of his life in the big city.
Tony had been less than attentive that morning, and Claire had been in the mood to stir things up. She’d deliberately played to Mrs. Nordstrom’s pride in her son, telling her she agreed he was the handsomest man she’d ever seen and how wonderful to be so successful at twenty-eight. Tony didn’t seem to pay any attention until she said something about Jay being every woman’s dream man. When his eyes narrowed and he glared at her, Claire knew she’d made her point.
“I think you and I are going to have fun.” Jay’s gaze slid seductively up and down Claire’s figure.
He and his brother were obviously two of a kind.
“Are you ready to party?”
“Maybe.” Claire shrugged. “Let me talk to April and see what she has planned.”
Jay snorted. “All she wants to do is go home.”
“Not into partying, huh?” Claire kept her tone deliberately light and offhand.
Jay moved closer, and the overpowering smell of alcohol hit her. It was all she could do not to step back. Even though Jay wasn’t staggering or slurring his words, he’d obviously downed more than a couple of drinks this afternoon. “Not like I am.”
Claire paused. “I guess I could take her home and come back later.”
“Neither of you are going anywhere,” Jay said, and a shiver shot up her spine. “We’re playing this my way. Got that?”
Claire stared at him. She’d dealt with men like him before. Guys who thought that every woman secretly wanted them. Guys who wouldn’t take no for an answer.
She smiled and linked her arm with his. “Why don’t you be hospitable and get me something to drink?”
“Now that’s more like it.” Jay’s smile widened. “We’ve got Bud. Or Jack.”
Claire stifled a groan.
“I’ll take a Bud.” She could barely force the word past her lips. “Where’s April? Maybe she wants one, too.”
“She’s busy with Wayne.” Jay jerked his head toward a closed door. “You’d better knock before you enter. Wayne might be finally getting some.”
Claire’s heart rose to her throat. If something happened to April, she’d never forgive herself. She rapped her knuckles against the door and pushed it open at the same time.
“How many times do I have to tell ya. I’m not taking you home.” Wayne’s words were loud and slurred. He stood towering over April. In that instant Claire decided that being ugly and drunk was a horrible combination.
“You can’t keep me here.” April sat perched on the edge of an overstuffed chair, her arms folded tightly across her chest. Her chin jutted out in a defiant tilt, and her eyes appeared too large for her face.
“April?”
“Claire.” A look of joy flashed across the girl’s pale face. She jumped up, flew across the room and wrapped her arms tightly around Claire. “I knew you’d come.”
Wayne popped a handful of sunflower seeds in his mouth and narrowed his gaze. “About time you got here.”
Claire forced a laugh and pried April’s arms from her. “I came right over. There’s nothing I like more than a good party.”
Confusion clouded April’s gaze. “But I want to go home.”
“I told you.” Wayne took a big swig from a long-necked bottle, then belched loudly. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“I want to leave.” April spoke in the same low, shaky voice she’d used on the phone. “But he won’t let me.”
Claire’s smile never wavered. April was scared, but there wasn’t much Claire could do about it now.
“Here you go.” Jay entered the room with three bottles hanging loosely from one hand. He handed one to Claire, another to his brother and held out the last to Apr
il.
The girl shook her head and pressed her lips together, as if she was afraid he’d pour it down her throat.
“Suit yourself.” Jay flipped off the top and took a long drink. His gaze shifted from April to Claire before moving to Wayne. “Looks like this may work out after all, bro. One for you and one for me.”
“I brought April for you,” Wayne said loudly. He turned and pointed to Claire. “I want that one.”
“Get real.” Jay’s blue eyes turned to a steely gray. “I don’t want any kid.”
“I’m not doing anything with either of you.” April’s eyes flashed. “And you can’t make me.”
Both men stood well over six feet, and it was obvious they worked out regularly. April was dead wrong on this one. If they chose to force the issue, neither she nor Claire would stand a chance.
What Claire needed was to buy them some time. Her gaze shifted to the deck of cards on the coffee table. Jocelyn had said everyone in Iowa loved cards. She hoped her friend was right. “I want to play—”
“I’m not going to play any stupid card game,” Wayne said, interrupting her.
“Wayne,” Claire said in a teasing tone, “didn’t your mother teach you to let a lady finish talking?” She softened her words with a smile. “Now I bet you like poker.”
“Strip poker.” Jay leered.
“How about you, Wayne?”
Wayne’s gaze shifted to April. “Sounds good to me.”
April gasped.
The plan wasn’t quite evolving as Claire had planned. Still, she might be able to salvage it.
“I might be up for it.” Claire shrugged. “But you’re going to have to send the kid home.” She jerked her thumb in April’s direction. “She’s jailbait. And neither of you needs that kind of hassle.”
“But,” Wayne blustered, “if we let her leave, we’ll be one short.”
“If you play your cards right,” Claire said with a sly smile, “you can both be winners.”
April’s hands shook so badly she could barely keep the Jeep on the road. She’d been shocked when the guys had said she could go.
She wasn’t sure if it had more to do with the jailbait comment or Claire’s offer. She suspected the latter.
Their eyes had lit up, and they’d been practically drooling when Claire had laid out the terms. She would play against the two of them. If the men won, she’d take them both on. If she won, she’d get to pick which brother she wanted.
April knew they’d say yes. Claire had never looked more beautiful, and the looks the two shot each other told her they knew the odds were in their favor.
They’d practically shoved April out the door. Claire had barely had time to whisper the plan.
April stepped on the gas. Although the guys had several layers of clothing they could take off, Claire didn’t. And with that type of temptation who knew what the brothers would do, regardless of anything Claire would say. It wouldn’t take long before…
Shoving the disturbing thought aside, April forced her attention to the road. She wheeled the Jeep into the parking lot of the gas station at the edge of town and headed inside to the pay phone.
She had to dial the number of the sheriff’s office twice before she got it right.
“Dispatch. State your emergency.”
The moment April heard the official-sounding voice, she decided she couldn’t tell them everything. She’d be in big trouble if they knew it all.
“I was driving by the Henry Nordstrom place on Bluff Road. They’re out of town and there was a strange car there. It looked like someone was trying to break in. Please hurry.”
“We’ll send someone right out.” The impersonal female voice could have been a recording. “May I get your name?”
April slammed the receiver down, her heart beating so rapidly she thought for a moment she might faint. Claire had only said to call the sheriff. The rest April had come up with on her own.
She prayed the sheriff would go out even though she hadn’t left her name. But even more than that, she prayed Claire knew how to play poker.
“Are you sure you gave her the right address?” Larry Babcock glanced at his watch, and Tony resisted the urge to sneak a peek at his, as well.
Only the thought that he’d checked it less than five minutes before stopped him.
Claire was over an hour late. They’d finally given in and ordered. Larry’s stomach had growled so loudly it was a wonder the waitress could hear the order.
Tony took a bite of his salad and pretended not to notice the glances between Larry and his wife. This looked bad, not only for him, but for Claire, as well.
If she was just running late, why hadn’t she called?
I’ll be there…unless something better comes along.
Her words had been teasing, not serious. She knew how important this evening was to him.
He swallowed the lettuce that tasted like paper and washed it down with a gulp of iced tea. There had to be a good reason she hadn’t showed. There simply had to be.
“Read ’em and weep.” Claire laid down her hand and smiled broadly. “Four aces.”
Wayne cursed and flung his cards on the table. He jerked his T-shirt over his head and tossed it across the room in disgust.
Jay laughed and reached for the zipper of his shorts. “For the first time I can say I’m glad I haven’t given up underwear.”
The game had gone just as she’d planned. Poker was her father’s favorite game, and not only had he taught Claire all she knew about the game, he’d taught her a few tricks, as well. Tricks that under normal circumstances could be considered cheating. Today they were necessary tools for self-preservation. And they’d worked.
Since the game began she’d only lost two hands, and those she’d deliberately thrown. Her pair of shoes went first, the panty hose next. Jay had retrieved the nylons from the floor and draped them around his neck like a lei.
But Claire knew if the sheriff didn’t get here soon, she’d be forced to throw another hand, just to make it look good. The trouble was, she didn’t know what else she could afford to lose.
She took another sip of her beer, just for show. The bottle was still over half full.
“Deal the cards, Wayne.” She held up the bottle and spoke loudly, getting into the role she’d been forced to play. “I feel lucky.”
“What in the name of—”
Claire turned toward the doorway, the man’s words partially muffled by the rock music blaring from the stereo.
Jay shoved back his chair and rose. He walked nonchalantly to the entertainment unit and hit the power button. “There, that’s better.”
He turned and glanced at the sheriff. “To what do we owe this honor?”
The officer’s gaze took it all in, Jay standing there as confidently as if he was in a suit and tie instead of clad only in his Jockey shorts with Claire’s panty hose around his neck, Wayne, naked from the waist up, sitting at the table, and Claire in her silk dress and pearls, holding a bottle of beer between her fingers.
Claire could only imagine the picture they made.
“We got a report of a break-in. I knocked but no one answered. The door was open, so I just thought I’d check things out.”
Thank you, God.
“Well, Sheriff, nothing is going on here, ’cept a friendly little game of strip poker.” Jay smiled. “That’s not against the law, is it?”
The sheriff’s gaze lingered on Claire, and she could tell he remembered her from church. He didn’t even try to hide his disapproval. “No, there’s no law against it.”
“There you have it.” Wayne belched and shuffled the cards. “Now if you’ll excuse us…”
“Gladly.” The sheriff turned to go, and Claire shoved back her chair.
“Sheriff, I was wondering if you might give me a ride back to town?”
He stared at her for a long moment. “Sure.”
“Thanks.” She walked over and grabbed her nylons from Jay’s neck and her shoes
from the table in front of Wayne. “See you later, guys.”
“You’re not leaving.” Confusion warred with anger in Jay’s azure eyes. “We were just getting started.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Claire said, lighthearted with relief. She stuffed her nylons into her purse and slipped on her shoes. “This game’s over.”
All the way to the cruiser, the officer kept his gaze fixed straight ahead. It wasn’t until they were settled in that he spoke. “I know this is none of my business, but what was going on back there?”
Claire ignored the question. She knew it looked bad, but there had been drinking going on, and April was underage. Anything she said would implicate April. “Mind telling me how you happened to stop by?”
“Dispatch got an anonymous report of a possible break-in.” The deputy’s mirrored sunglasses hit his eyes “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“Me?” Claire laughed. “Why would I call?”
“You tell me.” The deputy tilted his head questioningly. “Dispatch said it was a woman that called. You seemed awfully eager to get out of there.”
“I was getting bored.” Claire lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug.
“How long have you known Jay Nordstrom?”
“Is this an interrogation?” Claire raised a brow. “Am I under arrest?”
“What would I charge you with? You’re over twenty-one,” he said. “You can booze it up with a hundred guys if you want. Although I’m not sure Pastor Karelli would approve.”
“I guess that’s between him and me, isn’t it?” Claire narrowed her gaze. She didn’t appreciate his tone and she certainly didn’t deserve his censure, but the less she said the better.
“I guess it is,” he said, his lips pressed in a tight disapproving line. “I’d still like to know what happened.”
Claire stared out the window as if fascinated by the rolling farmland.
The ten miles into town seemed like an eternity. Claire could feel the deputy’s watchful eyes studying her but she pretended not to notice. She glanced at her watch. Seven-thirty. Too late to leave for Des Moines.
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