So he’d pushed her. And she left. He’d all but packed her bags and made her do it.
“Son of a bitch.” The memory of her crestfallen features burned the back of his eyes.
Why’d she have to come home? Just when he’d stopped thinking of her every minute of every day, she’d walked back into his life, resurrecting painful memories. Physical needs. Making him agonizingly aware of what he’d given up, then and now. And goddammit, did he want it all back with a fury he didn’t expect.
Her behavior indicated a coyness, a more mature sexual awareness he didn’t remember in his young wife. The thought it might be due to the tutelage of another man replayed endlessly in his head, pissing him off.
Lila in the arms of another man. He evoked the image, punishing himself. Lila’s mouth open in ecstasy, her legs wrapped around another man’s waist, and her fingers gripping his neck in passion.
He slammed on the brakes and threw the truck into park alongside an empty patch of asphalt. He jerked open the door and jumped out of the cab, his fists clenched, ready to battle an unseen enemy. He strode off the blacktop of the county road, kicking up dust behind him.
He had to regain control. He wasn’t going to survive her visit if he got worked up each time she shook her hips in his direction.
“Jake! What the hell are you doing?”
Turning, he saw Otis Wells hanging out the driver’s-side window of his pickup. A perplexed look twisted his work-worn features.
Just what he needed. A lecture from the man who was the closest thing to a father Lila had in Hannington. Old Otis didn’t look like father material with his gruff appearance and whiplike tongue, but when Michael Gentry didn’t return from an overseas military tour to care for his baby daughter, Otis stepped in to fill his shoes. He played the part with all of his heart, bursting with pride over Lila’s successes back in Dallas. And Jake had heard about each and every one over the years.
Like the time Lila landed her first big project with the City of Dallas to renovate a pair of historic buildings as offices for administrative staff, and then when the Dallas League of Women Business Professionals named her entrepreneur of the year. And he couldn’t forget the time she made the cover of D Magazine. Otis left copies lying all over the construction site, and in his car. Hell, they were all over the town.
Jake kept his own copies locked away in a bedroom drawer. But he never told Otis. And he sure as hell wouldn’t tell Lila.
Exhaling his frustration, he strode around the hood of his truck and crossed the yellow dividing line to Otis.
“I thought I saw a brown recluse in my truck.”
Otis’s slightly bulging eyes widened at the mention of the deadly fiddleback spider common to Central Texas.
“Crap! Did you kill it?” Otis inspected him, looking for visible signs of a bite.
“No. I didn’t find it. Must have been seeing things.”
Otis didn’t have any reason to believe Jake made it up, but the puzzled look on his face said volumes. He needed to head Otis off before he started asking questions Jake didn’t want to answer. “What are you doing out here? It’s kinda late, isn’t it? Anything going on at the job site I need to know about?”
“Yeah,” Otis said, raising his arms in frustration, “Jenna Hillcrest came to check on the progress this evening and started ranting about the lighting. Said it wasn’t recessed enough to create the mood she wanted. Casler about choked her. She’s got all the work stopped and demanding you come take a look at the screwup yourself.”
More women. Not what he wanted at the moment. “I’ll get in touch with her and smooth things out.”
“Damn straight,” Otis said, nodding his head sharply. “We can’t get nothin’ done until you deal with her.”
The bald head ducked back into the cab and Jake didn’t hear another word from Otis as he punched the gas and flew down the road.
Following the dust trail, Jake headed back to town, ignoring the persistent voice in the back of his mind urging him to accept what Lila so obviously offered.
To let her push him back on the bed, unzip his pants, and climb on top sans panties, and slide down until he rested fully inside her.
God. How many times had they done that? Too many to count, though not enough to last him a lifetime.
But to do so again was to open himself up to the pain of unpredictability. Cancer patients couldn’t count on grandchildren or retirement. If the chemo hadn’t made him sterile, what guarantee did he have he’d live long enough to see his kids graduate?
Lila lifted the deviled egg platter with her free hand and carried it and a bowl of baked beans to the dining room buffet. When Granny said the Bombshells were coming over for a visit, Lila had been excited and started cooking immediately. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her grandmother’s old friends. In a way, the ladies were like additional grannies, always looking out for her and offering advice.
Sometimes bad advice, but she still appreciated it.
Surveying the sideboard now loaded with pickled okra, fresh tomatoes, fried chicken, and coleslaw, she worried maybe she’d made too much food. Could a group of grandmothers eat so much?
She rearranged dishes, making room for the new additions. Behind her, dominoes slapped against the hardwood of the dining table with an unexpected aggressiveness.
“Lila, how’s the interior design job?” said Agnes Mitchell, a sweet purple-haired lady who regularly rolled a game of 270 and insisted Lila was an interior designer. As one of her granny’s oldest friends, she didn’t have the heart to correct the woman every time she asked about “the job,” so she let it go, along with Mildred Hughes’s suggestion she wear more cherry-red lipstick and tight halter tops.
“Really well. I contracted for the renovations—”
“Lila, have you seen Jake since you’ve been in town?” Mildred’s eyes, framed by sky-blue shadow, gleamed with mischief over the top of her wadded Kleenex, which she kept perpetually up her nose.
The other Bombshells sat straighter in their chairs, alert to any tidbit of gossip.
Lila gritted her teeth and kept smiling.
“Oh, good grief, yes! She’s seen him. He was here yesterday dropping Lila off from the IGA. He brought in Nate’s cat livers and said he’d fix the toilet in the guest bath tomorrow.” Granny spoke up, grabbing the attention of the domino gang with infinite finesse.
“He’ll be here tomorrow to fix the toilet?” Lila repeated. He hadn’t mentioned anything to her about the work.
Granny leaned over the table, holding her dominoes like an old pro: three in the left hand, two in the right. Her mouth turned down in sudden concern.
“Honey, do you need to see Doc Smigel about a hearing aid?” The ladies swiveled their heads in unison, gazing at Lila with barely contained curiosity. “I told you yesterday we needed to have someone look at the commode.”
Lila tried to act like she didn’t care, but the thought of him in the house sent her blood racing. Was he finding ways to see her? She didn’t want to hope, but what else should she think? That he really had time to fix the toilet?
“Hon, you should wear something tight and clingy when he comes over tomorrow.” Mildred switched out the older yellow tissue for a fresh pink number.
She frowned. “I’m sorry?”
“You know, wear something that dips low in the front and cuddles the rear in the back. Men are suckers for a tight rear, and you got one, my dear.”
Seduce Jake here? In her granny’s house?
Her heart pounded and her mouth dropped open. She looked from Mildred to Granny, disbelief paralyzing her vocal cords.
“Lila’s got plenty of ass-huggin’ outfits.” Granny patted Mildred’s arm and laid a double-six domino on the table, bringing her score up another thirty points.
“Granny!” Lila’s voice croaked.
Barbara Gentry’s cornflower-blue eyes met hers, all innocence.
“We’re all women here. Don’t act like su
ch a prude, Lila. If you want Jake back, you’re going to have to fight for him. And that means pulling out all the stops. Use what God put in your arsenal. Knock his eyes out.”
Dropping into the empty side chair, Lila attempted to gather her tattered dignity. “Who said I was trying to win Jake back?”
“Oh, sweetie,” Alta Meyers said in a let-me-comfort-you voice. Her red nails clicked together as she shuffled the pile of bones for the next round. “You may be able to fool those ding-dongs in Dallas, but we’ve been around a while. There’s nothing finer by your side or in your bed than a good man. And you’re missing both.”
“Amen.” A chorus rang around the table.
Was it so obvious, then? Did everyone except Jake know why she’d returned to Hannington?
Lila grabbed two deviled eggs off the sideboard and gobbled them down before the inner hound reminded her of the size of her rear, which Mildred thought was so tight. Compared to ladies in their seventies, it was indeed tight.
So why didn’t he want her back?
Before she could ponder the wise decision of seeking advice on her love life from Granny’s bowling team, she blurted out, “So why does he act like he’s not interested, then?”
Agnes excused herself from the table, making her way to the open bathroom door down the hall. Her words floated behind her.
“He’s been a bachelor since you moved to Dallas. You can’t expect a man to give up freedom so easily. He has to be convinced.”
Granny frowned over Mildred’s first play. They were partners, but the other woman continued to lay down dominoes that didn’t score.
“I think what Agnes is trying to say is that Jake needs to be persuaded. Your reappearance reminds him of a lot of things, not just your marriage.” Granny lifted her scorekeeping pencil and scratched delicately at the scalp beneath the fresh hairdo. Not a hair moved beneath the helmet of hair spray. Mary Jo the stylist was good, almost worth her weight in gold.
“But he’s been well, no sign of the cancer. Not since I left.”
“That’s what I mean. Not since you were here. Those are painful memories for both of you. He might need more time cozying up to the idea, is all,” Granny said.
“Oh.”
“Good sex makes a man forget almost anything!” Agnes’s voice echoed off the pink tile in the bath and out the open door.
Lila chose to ignore the last comment for a variety of reasons. Standing, she seized another deviled egg off the platter and headed toward the back door. “Thanks for the advice. Ladies. I’ll let you get back to your game.”
Mildred waved the shredded pink tissue at her. “Anytime.”
“Maybe you should call the little lady back, Jake. She said she wants to talk about the Goodwin building.”
Jake looked up from the blueline machine where he ran copies of his blueprints.
“Let me worry about it. And stop harassing her in the grocery store, for God’s sake.”
He’d heard about Lila’s run-in with Casler, not from her, but from the store’s manager, Randy. The man had all but run across the street when he’d seen Jake to tell him the story.
He didn’t like Casler playing the heavy when the guy was actually nothing but a puppy dog. And besides, he certainly didn’t need a go-between for him and Lila.
“It would be a bitch of a job, no doubt, but would pay through the ass.”
“Stop sweet-talkin’ me. You might convince me to take it,” he told Casler as he lined up the blue chalk–coated line, setting the machine for his copies.
“Well, sounds like she’s gonna do the job whether you help her or not. I just figured there might be something in it for me.”
He wasn’t fooling Jake for a minute with all his blustering. Casler couldn’t care less about the money. It was the challenge he enjoyed. And if it meant he could give the city council the finger while doing it, Casler was all for it.
“She can’t do the first thing until I release the lien on the building.”
So why hadn’t he? And why had he been avoiding her calls? For the same reason he lied to Casler now. He still had it bad for little Lila Gentry.
He looked up from his blueprints to find Casler’s attention drawn outside through the plate glass window. He followed his gaze to Threasa Thompson heading in their direction.
The woman was all grace and understated beauty with long, long legs and willowy arms. She had her hair back in a ponytail and a baseball cap pulled down low over her eyes.
Jake looked at Casler. Casler kept watching Threasa. Jake cleared his throat. Casler didn’t notice.
He shook his head and returned to his blueprints. “You’re a dumbass if you don’t ask her out,” he told him over his shoulder.
“Shit,” Casler said under his breath. Jake heard the bell on the front door ding as it opened and he saw Threasa walk in. She didn’t notice them at first, but headed for the counter where she talked to Bob, the owner of the copy shop.
“What’s she doing here?” Casler whispered.
Jake looked at him. “Go ask her.”
Casler stood there, his feet rooted to the floor. Just as Jake reached to push his shoulder, Threasa turned and saw them.
A blush crept up her face and spread across her checks, giving her pale complexion a glow. She smiled and waved, and headed in their direction.
“Hi, Threasa. How are things at the ranch?” Stupid icebreaker, but Casler needed some help with his mouth shut like his lips were glued together.
“Going okay at the moment. Just needed to get some copies of these specs. I need some work done in one of the barns.”
“Well, you know we’d help you out and cut you a friend price,” he told her.
Threasa glanced at Casler, but still he said nothing.
“It would have to be a real friendly price for me to be able to afford Reverie Construction,” she said, laughing.
“I could do it during my down hours,” Casler interjected, surprising them both. Jake had been hoping he’d chime in. He hadn’t thought the man so dense he couldn’t take the hints Jake had laid out for him.
The statement caught Threasa off guard and she gaped at him while the silence stretched out among the three of them.
Jake considered returning his attention to his blueprints to give the two of them some semblance of privacy. He hadn’t seen a more awkward couple since his days in high school.
“Well, ah, John, that’s a real nice offer,” she said, flustered and looking anywhere but at Casler. “Let me think about it and I’ll let you know.”
“Whatever. Just thought I’d offer. I got plenty to keep me busy.”
He pushed past her, and Jake watched him walk out the front door and head in the opposite direction of their work truck.
Casler did not take rejection well.
“Oh, I hope I didn’t offend him, Jake,” Threasa said, clearly upset over the idea she had. “I just meant I wasn’t sure if I could afford it. I need to check with the bank to see if they’ll extend my line of credit.”
“Don’t worry about him, Threasa. His bark is way worse than his bite. He’ll warm up to it and see the light.”
Threasa gave him a puzzled look and said good-bye, leaving Jake to consider his own words.
Yeah. Talk about seeing the light. That described his relationship with Lila and what he needed to do to convince her to give up this idea of converting the Goodwin building and making a move back to Hannington.
Lesson Number Eight —
Sometimes, taking charge in the relationship will get you what you want. Even if it does not, your man will notice the effort.
Chapter Ten
Lila watched Steve Ann drive away with Granny strapped into the passenger seat. With the toilet broken and Granny off to the doctor, she was left behind to meet Jake. Alone. In the house where they’d first made love as teenagers. In her old room, on the very bed she’d slept in since coming back.
Did she smell a setup? Lord, she loved her Granny. The w
oman played matchmaker, guardian angel, and endangered landmark protector all at once.
The anticipation of being alone with Jake broke her out in a sweat.
Glancing down at the fire ant mound at the edge of the curb, the Bombshells’ advice from yesterday rang in her ears.
Seduce him.
Racing back inside, she jerked open her closet and examined the neatly hung rows of shorts, skirts, blouses, and pantsuits. What to wear? She wanted to look sexy and experienced. Jake had already seen the young, green girl she’d been in high school.
She stood frozen, realizing for the first time none of her clothes were appropriate for catching a man. It simply wasn’t the image she portrayed back in Dallas. Educated, chic, and experienced, yes. But sexy, available, and ready for an afternoon romp? No.
Pulling out the dresser drawers, she prayed for something better. The only thing remotely sexy was a pair of thigh-highs. She wasn’t quite ready to meet Jake at her Granny’s front door in nothing but thigh-highs.
Oh, but definitely later. If they got to later.
Besides, what if he looked her over and said, “No thanks?”
Throwing the terrible thought from her mind, she scurried out of her skirt and camisole. She had fairly nice legs, tan from the hot Texas sun. She needed something showing leg, arousing, but practical in the heat.
Granny said she’d boxed some of her old clothes up and put them on the top shelf in the closet. She had no idea what it might contain, but surely she’d find something. Hell, better yet, a T-shirt a couple sizes too small would be perfect. She’d even be stylish. That and no bra.
She struggled with the box, spilling the contents onto the bed. Sure enough, several pairs of old Levi cutoffs and some faded T-shirts tumbled out.
The doorbell rang.
Lila glanced at her bedside clock. It had to be him. She grabbed the first pair of shorts on top of the pile and wriggled into them, covering her pink lace thong.
Deconstructing Lila (Entangled Select) Page 8