by Carrie Lomax
She wouldn’t put it past him to be completely oblivious.
Janelle turned on her heel and kept going. They couldn’t keep fighting in the stairwell. Their voices echoed up six stories. She had to get them somewhere alone, or at least private enough that when everything she was holding back erupted, she wasn’t going to embarrass herself in front of anyone but Trent.
Hell, she’d been embarrassing herself in front of him since the moment they’d met. What was one more time? Her cheeks burned at the memory. The lace of her shirt rubbed her skin, the flats were giving her blisters and the backs of her knees were damp with late-July air humidity. Trent had done this to her since the moment they’d met.
He’d made her vulnerable. He took all the shit she doled out without blinking, then flipped her on her back like a turtle, belly exposed, feet flailing. Helpless. But then he left her there. He couldn’t open up emotionally, and she couldn’t fill the chasm by feeling too much for both of them.
Janelle yanked the sunglasses down onto her nose. Hidden, her eyes leaked a few tears. Then she was at her car, keys in hand, fished out of her bag from habit. She yanked open the door and grabbed the wheel, laying her forehead against the hot plastic. The door behind her opened and slammed.
Every time I close a door, he opens it.
The odd thought calmed the storm long enough for her to raise her head. “Okay, Trent. You want to talk? Let’s talk.”
Janelle turned sideways. He peered at her through the trough over the center console.
Worried. Maybe he did feel something, after all. Trent cupped her chin gently and rubbed a rough thumb over her damp cheeks. “I love you, Janie. Please stop running away.”
Her eyelids squeezed tight, but the tears came anyway. Janelle leaned into his hand, absorbing the warmth of Trent’s touch. She kissed his palm with lips that weren’t completely steady, leaving a faint pink lip print on the heel. For a few minutes neither of them said anything.
“I miss you. I sold the business because despite what I said that day, I didn’t care about it the way I care about seeing you succeed.”
“Don’t feed me lines, Trent.” Janelle sniffed and rummaged in her bag for a pack of tissues. Catching sight of herself in the rearview mirror, she licked a corner and tried to wipe away a blob of mascara. Her nose was red, her lipstick smudged, and her misery was cut by a measure of gratitude; at least she’d made it to the car before losing it.
“I’m not. Promise. My arrangement with Olivia is similar to yours. I set my own hours. I don’t need to bury myself in work anymore. All I want to focus on is you.”
“Me. Really. After what you said.”
“You, Janie.” He paused. “Can we roll down the windows? I’m roasting.” Trent did look hot, his wilted shirt sticking to his pecs and biceps. Janelle discovered her skin was damp and patchy red, not only from crying. Amazing how fast cars could turn into ovens in the summer.
“Oh!” Janelle turned the ignition and rolled them down. “It’s not much better. We could sit on the bench.”
“Or we could go for a drive,” he suggested.
“Oh, could we, now. Do you have a destination in mind?” she shot back with all the sarcasm she could muster. “What about your car?”
“I can get it later. If I come up to the front seat, you’re not going to try and run me over?”
Janelle shook her head. She moved her bag to the back. The cry had been intense but short, and now that she had it out of her system, she felt better able to listen to whatever Trent had to say.
He changed seats quickly and punched an address she didn’t recognize into the GPS. It wasn’t far, but it was early afternoon on a Wednesday and traffic was already bogging down. They’d have plenty of time to get it all out there. Though for once, Janelle had nothing to say.
* * *
“You can pull into the driveway.”
The exterior of the bungalow was painted blue with gleaming white trim. A large porch was painted gray. White wicker patio furniture faced the sidewalk. The small lawn was freshly landscaped. A neatly lettered “For Rent” sign stood in the window.
Months ago, in Las Vegas, he’d teased Janie about her prosaic fantasy of a little house, a yard, and all the trappings of a quiet, comfortable life. Yet her words had spoken to his deepest desire, too.
Coming home to the apartment every day had forced him to acknowledge how much he loved Janie. He’d misunderstood her underlying meaning when she’d claimed to be a good girl. It had less to do with what she was and was not willing to do in bed, and everything to do with what she wanted in a relationship. From life.
Janelle may have been directionless before he’d met her, but she’d found her path and thrived. Mocking her ambition had been so cruel of him. If they hadn’t just come from Penny’s maybe he wouldn’t have reacted so strongly, though it was no excuse. He should’ve sorted out his shit long ago.
“What’s this, Trent?” she asked warily.
“A house.” He still wanted the quiet life she’d described with such longing. He needed to know if she did, too.
She made an exasperated noise. “I’m not blind. What are we doing here?”
Her nose was still a little pink, as were the rims of her eyes. Other than smudged makeup, there was no evidence of tears. Trent’s skin felt too tight for his body. He’d done that to her. Hurt her. Made her sad. He had every intention of making it up to her, though—if she’d let him.
“Come on, Janie. I’ll show you around.”
He’d done a lot of talking on the twenty-minute drive over here. A lot of it had had to do with his parents, most of which she’d guessed ages ago. Now it was time to get into the real problem between them: trust.
A flash of worry that Janie would dig in her heels and refuse gripped him. But he’d underestimated her. She still had a stubborn streak a mile wide, but she’d learned to direct it away from reflexive resistance. She grabbed her bag and got out of the car while Trent unlocked the front door.
“What do you think?” he asked. Say you like it.
He liked it. The kitchen was small, but renovated, with a window over the sink. The owners had staged the place with stylish furniture, better than anything Trent or Janelle owned. From the moment he’d walked in yesterday, it had felt like something he hadn’t had in a long time, even for the seven weeks Janie had taken over the studio apartment next door.
A home.
Janelle wandered the gleaming hardwood floors over to the dining area. She flicked the light switch and played with the dimmer. Then she poked her head into the master bedroom and turned the faucets, checking the water pressure. After a brief tour into the second bedroom, she went to the rear patio and opened the door. The backyard was small and private, with a fence and trees.
Trent followed her.
He stopped a foot away from her, watching her bright eyes scan the grass and the bushes. The lace of her shirt was unwrinkled, but her pants weren’t holding up so well in the heat. She’d kicked off one flat. A blister covered the heel of her foot.
“Do you want a Band-Aid?” he offered.
“I don’t know. A Band-Aid might not be enough.”
Trent’s pulse leapt, thinking she meant the house was a Band-Aid and it wasn’t enough. But Janie dropped her attention to her foot and examined the raw, pink skin. She meant the wound might soak through the bandage. “If you have one, that would be great.”
Trent always carried one in his wallet. It was better than nothing, so he took it out and peeled it open. “Here.”
He bent and pulled her foot onto his knee. Janelle steadied herself with a hand on his shoulder. When he stood up, she was watching him intently. “I get what you’re after, Trent. You want us to move in here together, right?”
“I was hoping you’d want the same thing.”
“How do I know you won’t burn me again?”
It was the question he’d been dreading. “For the past six years, everything I’ve done I did to pr
otect and support Penny. When you said she didn’t need me, it was like getting punched in the face, Janie. Caring for Penny was all that kept me moving, when all I wanted to do was give up.”
“What’s changed?”
“You changed me. You never gave up on me. It took me too long to see it, but I am so happy you didn’t take no for an answer. Nobody’s ever done that. Whatever you see in me, I want you to keep seeing it. But before I could tell you, you’d moved in with Crystal and it looked as if you’d gotten back together with Ben.”
“That was Crystal’s doing,” Janelle replied darkly. “She thought I’d want to get back together with him, and she could catch you on the rebound. It’s just how she thinks.”
“I didn’t know what was going on with your ex, until I saw you at the networking event. If you’d told me you were seeing someone, I’d never have planned this. I knew I’d hurt you, but I didn’t see how badly until you turned my words right back at me.”
He brushed a strand of hair away from Janelle’s face. She glanced down. “I think I understand, now, what you were telling me in Las Vegas. Remember how you insisted you were a good girl?”
Janelle ducked her head. “I’m embarrassed I ever sorted the world into two neat piles. Worthy and unworthy. I hated being classified as unworthy because of my credit, but I wrote off Crystal’s approach to sex as less, as unacceptable. Even while I was trying to imitate her. I’m annoyed with her for trying to take advantage of our situation, but, on the whole, she’s been really decent.”
“She helped me get through to you, Janie. Not that I deserved to. I’ve done a lot of thinking since the fight, and I’ve figured out that the way I’d been thinking about women as if they were cocker spaniels, not human beings.”
Janelle’s pretty mouth puckered as if she was fighting a smile. “How do you mean, Trent?”
The pressure in Trent’s chest eased. Even if she said no today, at least he could give her a meaningful apology. “I spent years developing this vision of an ideal partner who was a negative composite of Penny’s worst traits. I had this idea that my next girlfriend would be calm, adoring, faithful, and devoted. Those were all fine traits to look for, but no real person could ever be the perfect selfless love I was after. Women are people. We’re all complicated and flawed, and we make mistakes. I’m sorry I made such a huge one with you. Penny and I used to fight like cats and dogs, and I lashed out at you. It’ll never happen again.”
Janelle swallowed, eyes wide.
Trent kept going. “In Las Vegas, you were trying to tell me how everything you felt for me was real from the start. I didn’t hear you. It seemed highly unlikely someone as perfect as you are could drop into my lap. Almost literally.”
“Perfect.” Janelle snorted.
Trent grinned from sheer relief. He’d said what he wanted to say and she’d listened. He loved her sarcasm. It wasn’t always nice, but she was most ruthless when turning it on herself. “Yeah, perfect.”
“With my sob story about student loans and crappy job and dumb sugar baby scheme. Anyone with half a brain should’ve been smart enough to see through me.” Janelle sighed.
“I think it was the dress that was see-through.”
This time, her snort sounded suspiciously like laughter.
“I don’t suppose you still have it?” Trent tried to be casual, but the switch to flirting hung between them. He waited to see if she’d pick it up.
A long pause, followed by a sly smile. “Maybe.”
“What’s it going to take to find out?” Trent edged closer and slid his arm around her narrow shoulders. Janelle turned him and buried her head in his chest with a sigh. Trent pulled her tight. Her body against his soothed the ache in his chest. He kissed her hair.
“I’d have to know you’re not going to cut and run on me again,” she whispered.
“However high you want to go, I’m going to help you get there. Stay like this with me.” He inhaled her scent and all.
“Trent. I can’t…In Las Vegas, I didn’t want you to solve my problems for me. I wanted you to solve them with me. I didn’t know how to say it without sounding ungrateful for everything you did.” Janie sniffed.
Oh, shit, not tears. They were supposed to be past the crying stage, now. “Sweetie.”
“This house? It feels like you’re trying to solve things again.” And then she did sob, and the sound was akin to a knife in the belly.
“Like you did, when you moved in across the hall?”
Wrapped in his arms, Trent couldn’t tell whether Janie was laughing or crying, or both.
“Technically, it wasn’t your space. Even if you were mad at me, I knew I could turn to you if I locked myself out one night. You’re…protective that way. It seemed reasonable in my head. I honestly wasn’t trying to force you into anything.”
Trent had been so blindsided by the boldness of her move, he’d never considered how intimidating it must’ve been to move to a new city, where she knew no one. He’d only seen manipulation. Entrenched in his comfortable sulk, it’d been easier to believe Janelle was indulging in fantasies than to believe she loved him, or she trusted him to help her if she needed it. After all, he’d already gotten her out of one fix.
Trent kissed her hair again and pulled her tighter against his chest. “I was so scared I’d lost you for good.”
“You almost did.” Janie’s arms were steel ribbons around his waist. “Bringing me here is the first time you’ve given me a reason to hope that you’re looking to the future. But fair warning—if you ever say the words ‘clean break’ to me again, we’re through. I’m not giving you another chance.”
“I won’t need one.”
Then they were kissing, shyly at first, getting to know one another again. It had been too long. Trent’s heart hurt, but it was a good ache. The kind that meant healing. Mending. Knitting together. The way their bodies were.
Until the door to the house opened.
“Anyone here?” a stranger’s voice rang out.
Janelle didn’t move, other than to open her eyes. “I guess we should sign a lease?”
His throat closed. A long beat passed before he could say, “I thought you didn’t want me to solve your problems.”
“I don’t.” She bit her lower lip, the way she did when she was thinking hard. “But it’s a really cute house.”
“There’s a community pool two blocks away. For swimming.” Trent’s heart hammered erratically.
“Off-street parking for two cars,” she mused.
“I checked out the house this morning. The agent’s going to be ticked I kept the key all day.”
“You did what?” Janelle peered up at him, perplexed.
“I figured if I kept the key, and managed to get you here, and convinced you to give me another chance, it might buy us some time.” Trent placed his hands on her upper arms, already missing the warmth of her body against his. “This place will rent fast.”
“Um,” Janelle tucked her hair behind her ear as the intruder appeared, followed by a couple not dissimilar to them. Guy in a dress shirt and jeans. Woman in heels and a skirt. Both had probably taken off work early to come see the bungalow for rent.
Normal. He’d compared himself to ordinary professionals, and for once, it felt real.
“Sorry, the leasing agent must’ve forgotten to tell you. We’re submitting an application to rent the house.” Janelle crossed her arms over her chest, friendly but territorial.
Damn, he loved her competitive streak.
“Really,” the woman replied, glancing around the kitchen. “The agent told us they hadn’t received any applications yet. Some jerk ran off with the key this morning. They had to have a duplicate made.”
Trent might’ve copped to his minor crime, but Janie? Not on your life. “There must’ve been a mistake. This house is ours.”
“Oh?” The intruding woman cocked an eyebrow. Her companion took her by the elbow. Furious whispers ensued.
The rea
l estate agent patted his jacket pocket. “I’ll call the leasing office. This was supposed to be an exclusive showing.”
“Don’t bother. We’re on our way to sign the lease.” Trent took Janie by the arm and steered her to the front door. He leaned close to speak in a low tone, “If we get there first, we’ll be the renters.”
“Unless they reject us for stealing the key,” Janelle pointed out quietly.
“Noah, let’s go.” The new woman’s eyes narrowed. “I was ready to rent it sight unseen, and now I’ve seen. Let’s get going.”
“Amy, I haven’t seen it. Give me five minutes to look around. They won’t be able to leave until we move the car, anyway.”
Trent decided Noah needed to be proved wrong. Immediately. He hooked his arm into Janie’s elbow and towed her out the front door. Janie’s eyes widened. The driveway was a single strip of concrete that barely fit two cars. Hers was parked in.
“We can’t get out.” A hint of panic flashed in her green eyes.
“Mind if I drive?” he asked.
Janie handed over the keys without comment. In the car, he adjusted the seat all the way back and flicked the mirrors into place. Then he tossed his phone across the seat. “Are you sure you want this?”
“Yes, Trent. If this means we’re seeing each other, openly and exclusively, if it means I get to be with you all the time, then yes. Yes!” Janelle clapped.
Trent revved the engine in her little car. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and told her the code to unlock it. “Call the last dialed number. Tell them I’m bringing back the key and we’re submitting an application as soon as we get there.”
“The agent just came out,” Janelle replied as she unlocked the phone and dialed, waiting for someone to pick up.
“Fuck him. Hang on.” Trent gunned the engine forward onto the grass, slammed the tiny car into reverse and turned on the lawn, barely avoiding the bungalow. The car tilted at a frightening angle as he maneuvered down the strip, taking out a recently planted flower bed. They bumped over the curb with a jolt.