by Marie Harte
“Without a doubt, you’re the best part of my day.” A truth he really should start keeping to himself, but holding her, looking down at her, he had a hard time hiding his feelings. “So how did your Friday go?”
“About the same, and better than my Thursday. The bursar’s office is still giving me trouble with my financial aid.”
“Anything I can help with?” came out before he could think the better of it.
Fortunately, Lara just brushed him off. “Nah, I’ll get it handled. Besides, this is my worry-free Friday. My one day with no classes, when I normally get most of my schoolwork done. But Ray needed some help with inventory earlier, so I scored an extra shift. Not a bad way to spend my afternoon, especially because I knew I had a hot date tonight.”
“Really? With who?”
She chuckled, and they left her place and headed to his car. The air had a crisp, clean bite that refreshed him, and the cloudless evening let them watch the indigo sky blend into black.
“So, Mr. Hot Date, where are we headed?”
He sat with her in the car, unsure how to say what he wanted to express.
“This shouldn’t be a hard question. What’s going on? You look serious all of a sudden.” She took his hand and held it in hers.
The warm comfort he felt made him want to tear his hair out, because he felt a schmaltzy feel-good moment and couldn’t avoid it.
“I was totally pumped about tonight. I thought we’d hit dinner, maybe a show, add a little flowers and candlelight.”
“Sounds good to me. But then, I’m happy just hanging out with you. I’m easy.”
He paused, then had to say it. “Really? ‘I’m easy’? You’re just putting that out there for me to run with?”
“Please, Amelia could have run with that line.”
“At her age, I’d hope not.”
Lara rolled her eyes. “I meant I’m easy to get along with. Anyway, my point is we can just spend time together to have fun. I don’t need a parade.”
“Good. Because all that other stuff felt kind of fake. I’d rather spend time with you, focused on you and not some wackjob with a bad toupee serenading you with a violin while I try to act all romantic and shit.”
“You know, you can fool the guys with your tough anti-romance talk, but I know you read literary magazines and poetry.” She nodded. “Yeah, I saw those froufrou magazines you tried to hide behind your big books on literature and Hobbits in your study. You’re a sensitive guy who likes to read. Own up to it, geek.”
“Geek?” He sputtered, not sure he liked her knowing his books were for more than mechanical reference or decoration.
“Nerd? Dork? Does compassionate metrosexual work for you?”
“I am so gonna have to tie you up and act all caveman later to redeem myself.”
“Sure thing, brain trust.” She laughed when he cringed and covered his face in shame.
And then, somehow, his bad mood, depressing thoughts about breakups and lost love, dissipated as Lara’s bright laughter lit him up from the inside out.
* * *
Lara didn’t know what had put Johnny in a funk, but he seemed to break out of it easily enough. And if she could get past possibly having no funding for this term, meaning more loans that would cut into next term and delay—again—her degree, then he should be able to overcome a bad mood.
They spent an amazing evening walking downtown, hand in hand. They ate at her favorite soup-and-salad place, at his insisted expense, and simply shared the clear evening together. Later, they drove up to Queen Anne and enjoyed cocoa and a walk under the stars through a homey neighborhood she liked to pretend she’d soon move into.
“Yeah, see? That would be my style. An old Victorian with that gingerbread molding. Then I’d paint it blue, green, and purple.”
“Seriously?” Johnny eyed her with dismay. “I thought only guys could be colorblind.”
“Look. Tell me that’s not beautiful.” The moon shone over the house she pointed toward, illuminating its intricate detail. Looming oaks and sculpted shrubbery, in addition to the grand size of the place, had to put it worth close to a million, if not more.
“It’s okay, I guess.” He shrugged, one hand in hers, the other on his cup of hot chocolate. “You really like it, huh?”
“Yes.” She sighed, in love with her life right now. A beautiful man by her side, in the most ideal neighborhood under a cloudless, moonlit sky. If she closed her eyes, she could almost dream of her perfect future and pretend it was real.
“So, what? You plan to move out here in a few years?” he joked.
“I wish.” She kicked at a few yellow leaves on the sidewalk.
“You don’t feel like it’s a little too ritzy out here? I mean, half of these places have gotta go for at least six figures. Look, a BMW.” He glanced across the street. “And a Mercedes. Now we’re talkin’.” He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know. This seems kind of unreal to me. Like, real people are living down the hill in real jobs. Upper Queen Anne is for a different sort.”
“It looks just fine to me.” She glanced at him but couldn’t read the look on his face. “I’m not saying you have to move out here. But I’d sure like to.”
“Why?”
“Why? Seriously?”
“I understand this looks nice on the outside, but everyone’s got the same problems on the inside. Kids who don’t listen, spouses who cheat, family who’re out to rob you blind.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I kind of like it more authentic. In my neighborhood, people aren’t putting on airs. We are who we are. You come to my place, you know me. I work hard, I play hard, but I’m a real guy. Not some idiot wishing he had a bigger dick and compensating with a Porsche.” He glanced at the shiny car in the driveway of the house they passed, this one twice as big as the last.
“My perspective is a little different.” Funny that he seemed defensive about the neighborhood. Then again, a lot of her friends acted the same way. Better to make fun of the more affluent than to admit you wanted to be one and couldn’t hope to aspire to that kind of money.
“How’s that? Are you telling me you need a million-dollar house to make you happy? ’Cause I won’t believe it.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Of course not. You work hard to make a living. Or am I wrong? Do you work at Ray’s just because it’s fun? Amused by us peons, and screw the paycheck?”
“No, smart-ass. I grew up with parents always scraping by. I’ve watched them work just to make ends meet for too long. Don’t get me wrong. We’re a loving family, and I know I’m lucky to have parents who love me and are still married in this day and age. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my mom or dad.” Because she owed them. Lara lived up to her responsibilities. She always had, always would.
“Yeah, I get that.” He nodded and squeezed her hand. “But being rich isn’t the answer. Being happy is.”
“True, but I can guarantee money would make my folks smile a lot more. It’s better now for them that I’m out of the house. If I can help get Kristin out too, then maybe they can take a vacation that’s not one where they watch the grass grow in the front yard.”
“Ouch.” His smile looked brittle, but she had to make him understand.
“I’m not some money-grubber. I’d never be with a guy for money or what he could get me. I want my own money. I don’t need to be rich, but I need to be comfortable. You’ve seen my apartment.”
“Unfortunately, yeah.”
She frowned at him, and he hurriedly corrected, “Your place is nice. But the building’s sketchy, you have to admit.”
“What? Our neighborhood meth heads aren’t cutting it for you?”
He shuddered.
“It’s not great, but it’s the best I can afford while I’m taking classes. I’m not complaining,” she said to forestall his comments. She didn’t want him pitying her, or God forbid offering her money to help her out. “I’m proud of my own place. Of my schooling. I�
��m paying for all of it, and one day my education is going to pay for a nice house and a nice car.”
“And if you’re lucky, it’ll pay for a quickie divorce from the boring bastard living in suburbia with your two-point-five kids. Ech. Come on, Lara. You’re smart. You’re pretty and determined. You don’t need to live in Queen Anne to make something of your life. You’ll be a terrific nurse, even though I think you’re the best bartender I know.”
She beamed. “Yeah? Even better than Sue and Rena?”
“Hell, yeah. I love Sue, but she’s a little scary. And Rena spends too much time trying to pump me for questions about my love life.”
“She’s amazingly good at interrogation,” Lara agreed. “Rena knows everything about everyone.” She took a sip of her cocoa, pleased to find it still hot. “So you think I’ll be a great nurse?”
“Nah, I know you will.”
She smiled. “You’re just trying to get lucky later.”
“Honey, I’m lucky right now.” He stared at her with an expression that shook her to her core, and she didn’t know how to handle what she thought he might be feeling.
So she ignored it. “Oh, you’re good. Not sure you’re getting lucky later, but you’re good.”
The spell broken, he gave a half-hearted groan. “You’re so mean. Must be why I keep coming back for more.”
“Must be.” She walked with him a ways before stopping in front of her favorite house. She still wanted him to agree with her, just once. “See that? It’s got a porch swing, curb appeal, and it’s not as big as all the others. It’s like a cottage plus. That’s my idea of a house. It’s got potential for a happy family.”
“And it’s in Queen Anne.” He snorted.
“It doesn’t have to be here, but if I lived on this street, I wouldn’t worry so much about my neighbors. I don’t see any crackheads lying around, and everyone seems to throw their trash away in their—wait for it—trash cans.”
“Ha-ha.” He stared at the house.
“Come on. This house is nice. Admit it.”
“Queen Anne is full of the same problems as everywhere else in Seattle.”
“Yeah, but with grander houses.”
He groaned. “Fine. The house is nice. I admit it. But it feels weird looking at other people’s places and wanting in. I like my place just fine.” He paused. “What do you think of it?”
“The neighborhood is nice. The house, um, well, I’d say it could use a woman’s touch. I mean, there’s no color or decoration besides your TV.”
“What’s your point?”
She blinked at him and would have responded, when she noted the twinkle in his eye. He sipped his cocoa while smirking, a man of many talents.
“Obviously you’re not a fan of the home-and-garden network.”
“I’d rather paint my fingernails neon green and tell Foley how handsome he is. So, um, no.”
“Johnny.” She tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and started walking again. “I like decorating. It’s that nesting thing women do. When I moved into my apartment, I had so much fun going to garage sales and thrift shops.”
“Good with a buck, huh? That’s a skill. My old man was pretty good at it when I was growing up. We never lived in a shack or anything.” He smirked. “Or in a zoo, though you and I both know I’m an animal in bed.”
“Bad pun… Though now that you mention it, I can totally see you behind bars.” She raised a brow, wondering if he’d cop to the conviction he’d served, the one Rena had found out and told her about.
He coughed. “Well, uh, I was young when it happened.”
“How young?”
“Not even twenty. And it was just that one car I borrowed.”
“One car?”
“One I got caught riding in,” he muttered. “I was going to give it back.”
She groaned. “See? Bars. A zoo. It all fits.”
“Speaking of zoos…” He paused, a glint in his eye. “I know how much you love my anaconda.”
She stopped in her tracks. “Please, just stop. I don’t think that even qualifies as a joke, it’s that bad.”
He laughed and kept on laughing until she tugged him to move again. “Sorry.” He had to wipe his eyes, and the sight of his amusement did something to her insides, made the butterflies fly together and sigh with delight just looking at him. “Your cheeks are red, and not from the cold. You’re fun to tease, baby.”
He did his cheek-caressing thing again, and she felt her breath come faster, so she deliberately took a long sip of hot chocolate, finishing it off. “You’re terrible. Funny, but terrible.”
“And pretty, don’t forget that.” He drained his drink as well. “My dad provided a decent life for us. He built it on alcohol—he bartended forever before buying into Strutts. And he took business classes once I was old enough to be on my own. Dad’s not good at relationships, but he’s a pretty smart guy when it comes to money.”
“Good for you. My dad’s a big believer in working hard. Period. So he and my mom work hard all the time.”
“No investments or anything?”
“When it’s between getting through today or planning for tomorrow, you get through today.”
“Yeah, point taken.” He said nothing for a moment, then asked, “So let’s say you had the opportunity to buy my place from my landlady. Would you?”
She had to think about it. “Well, the location is great. Your house is in a developing neighborhood, and I’d think the schools are probably decent.”
“Schools?”
“You know, for people who have kids?”
He gave her a strange look.
“What?”
“I don’t have kids.”
“That you know of. Sorry, had to say it.” She chuckled at his dark look. “I meant that homes near schools can have added property value because of their proximity to schools. So let’s say you want to move someday. You might be able to sell easier because of the school district.”
“Huh.”
“Sorry. Kristin’s second husband was a real estate guru. She picked up a few things she passed on to me, and I’m almost positive she told me that. With my obsession for the home network, I think about buying a house a lot. But not for a while, ’til I’m Nurse Valley in all my glory.” She gave an evil, booming laugh, and Johnny just stared at her. “Sorry. I imagine myself wielding a hypodermic and get a little crazy off the power trip.”
He laughed with her, and they continued walking. They passed house after house, domestic coziness dressed in wealth. But next to Johnny, laughing in the cold air, sharing stories and holding hands, she felt anything but lacking. She felt rich, cared for…whole.
Chapter 16
Tuesday evening, Lara pulled up outside Johnny’s house and glanced at her phone. She had a few minutes to spare. He’d been emphatic about her arriving not one minute late or early.
He’d been awfully coy about what they would be doing tonight. He knew she had clinicals in the morning, but he insisted they needed the together time. Though they’d just seen each other on Sunday, she hadn’t disagreed with him. A day without Johnny felt empty.
She’d been trying to figure out what he had in store for her, since he gave her weird taunts in his texts every time she tried guessing what they’d get up to. Knowing Johnny, the evening would end with her naked, but she had no intention of complaining.
Lara sighed. Talk about falling hard for a guy she never would have guessed would be so sweet.
Ten minutes later, as she stood in his living room and stared at him in dismay, she revised her earlier opinion. “Hold on. You’re going to teach me how to work with different tools in your garage, on your car. For fun?” Seriously?
He wore a pair of jeans and a grease-stained T-shirt, and he held a wrench in one large hand. “Well, yeah. I figure it’s a good thing to know, so no one can take advantage of you if you have car trouble. We’ll just do some basic stuff. Nothing too complicated.” He paused, gave her the
kiss she’d been waiting for since she’d arrived, then added, “You’re giving me a look. Damn. This is stupid, isn’t it?”
“What?” She didn’t understand.
“It’s just… Working with cars is a big part of my life, and I wanted to share it with you.” He shrugged, looking a little…hurt? “I was trying to be more creative with our time together, so you could see I like being around you for more than just sex.”
Seeing him let down, knowing he’d put thought into this idea, she felt awful for doubting him. That he wanted to bring her into his world meant so much, deepening the intimacy between them. So even though she’d been anticipating a few orgasms, followed by mini marshmallows and hot cocoa, she put on her game face. “Okay. I’m in.”
He blinked, then gave her the warmest smile. “You are such a sweetheart. Trust me. You’re going to love this.”
She doubted it, but for him, okay.
He took her jacket from her. “I have a space heater in the garage, so we’ll be nice and toasty while we work. And don’t worry. I cleaned up in there. Go on in.” He prodded her toward the door leading to the garage.
Here goes nothing.
She followed him into the roomy two-car garage, adjusting to the bright work light hanging overhead. As expected, his garage reflected his personality. He had nothing but his car and tools in the place. No boxes or gardening gear anywhere to be seen. A neat workbench sat against the wall, buffered on one side by a large storage locker and on the other by what looked like a large air compressor. He’d rolled his giant toolbox next to a stool by his car.
His red car?
“Is this new?” She walked around it, curious, since she could have sworn his car was green and another make altogether. This one had a white stripe around the base. Thick tires and shiny silver hubcaps grounded the vehicle. To her surprise, she saw he now had a convertible.
“Nah. It belongs to a friend. Nice, huh?”
She nodded, peering into the windows, noting the deep black vinyl, the fuzzy dice. A pack of cigarettes? Definitely not his then.
She turned to see him taking off his shirt, and her mouth watered. Dear God, he also had a smudge of grease on one cheek. Her dream hunk of a mechanic come to life. She just stared at the sleeve of tattoos covering his left arm, at the play of muscle on his taut frame. She wanted to lick him from head to toe.