Need Me

by Shelley K. Wall

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean? I have sisters, okay?”

  Caroline could probably get on board with selling flowers to a sister or two. “None of my business. We just need names and addresses for the recipients on this form.” She slid a blank page his way. “Here’s a pen.”

  He browsed the paper. “I’ll need two of these.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Roger shook his head, and she noted the scruffiness of beard growth at his cheeks. Was he growing it out, or had he just forgotten to shave? “Nope, three sisters plus my mother—but you already knew that. Or have you forgotten more than just our body heat?”

  “Yeah, it’s a shocker really. Who’d have guessed your charming ass was surrounded by a hoard of women based on your ...” She let her voice trail off before she divulged the insult going through her mind.

  “My what?”

  Caroline shrugged. “Um, demeanor?”

  Roger stared for a second. Was he going to blow up? She looked around. Abby was gone, so no one was around to back her up or protect her if he went ape-shit. He blinked—then grinned. “Good answer, Caro. Perfectly worded to puncture holes in my ego.”

  She shrugged and slipped another form his way. “I try.”

  “Do you?”

  “What? You act like I don’t. Like I’m ... trying to be snippy.”

  He cocked his head and focused on the forms for a moment. “I didn’t mean to infer that.”

  “Then what exactly were you inferring?”

  He finished filling out the forms in silence before pushing them back across the counter. “Nothing, Caroline.” A grumbling noise came from his torso. Caroline glanced at the time on her phone. Where was Abby? She should be back by now.

  “You’re hungry.” Based on the noise emitted from his stomach, more like starving.

  “Yeah, a little. It’s lunchtime.”

  “You skipped eating to do this?” What a thoughtful brother.

  He pulled a credit card from his wallet and tossed it on the counter. “Not exactly. I thought I’d drop in first then grab a bite on the way back—unless of course you’re hungry.”

  Caroline swiped the card. “You’re asking me out to lunch?”

  Without meeting her gaze, he shoved the card back into his wallet. “You have to eat. I have to eat. We can do it together. Or not. Doesn’t matter to me. Your choice.”

  She frowned. “Who’s snippy now?” The door jingled and she turned to greet the newcomer. “Oh. Hi, Abby.”

  Abby entered with a box under her arm and a Cheshire grin on her face. Based on her expression, she’d had lunch and a quickie with Carter. She waved at Roger and strode to the office. She hadn’t seemed at all surprised to see him.

  Roger grinned. “Perfect timing. So, what’s the verdict? Together? Or not?”

  She hesitated. Together? Them? Never. She didn’t care how long he stared at her with those melt-me chocolate eyes. Stop. Oh boy, I’m in trouble. “Um, okay.”

  Her assent took him by complete surprise. Now what? He hadn’t thought that far ahead. He followed Caroline out the door fully aware they hadn’t decided where to go or what to eat. Glancing up and down her petite frame, a smile crept across his lips at the wild colors in her shirt and leggings. They were almost as vibrant as the color she’d added to her eyelids. She turned and waited. “Do we have a destination, or are we just going to walk aimlessly along the street until something strikes our interest?”

  Good question. One he didn’t have an answer for. He shrugged. “Aimless wandering sounds good to me.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and cocked his head toward the corner. “Come on.”

  She flicked her eyes at the clouds and shrugged. “Same guy, different environment.”

  “Of course. Leopards don’t change their spots. But seriously, I have an idea.” He pulled a hand from his pocket and flicked his fingers. “Let’s motivate, gorgeous.”

  “Motivate?” She followed in short, quick steps.

  “Yep. Motivated moving. There’s a sub shop by the police station. We can get sandwiches and take them over to the park. It’s such a pretty day that I’d rather spend the time outside, wouldn’t you?”

  “Sure.” At the streetlight, they waited silently for the color to change. Caroline spotted a nearby billboard advertising an art function at the hospital.

  “My mother was there.”

  He glanced sideways. “Come again?”

  She pointed at the sign. “My mother was ill—she was in the hospital there.”

  He followed her fingers to the sign. Oh. “I know.”

  She jerked her eyes to his. “You do?”

  What should he say? Now wasn’t the time to mention he’d met the woman. “Yeah, I think Abby said something about her being sick after you graduated.”

  The light flicked green, and the people around them began walking. “Oh, well, yes. Actually she died not too long after I returned from that internship.”

  He knew that, too, but it wasn’t the time for that discussion either. It might never be. “I’m sorry.”

  Caroline shrugged and focused on the billboard as they drew nearer. “She would have liked something like that. She took photography lessons for a few months. There’s all sorts of pictures around the house and my dad’s place that were hers.”

  Feigning newfound interest, he smiled. “Something to remember her by.”

  “Yeah.” Caroline kept walking in silence. Unsure what to say next, he followed after taking one last glance at the sign.

  “Wanna talk about it?”

  The wind blasted them. He watched her chest rise and fall as she sucked in a deep breath. “No.”

  Once they reached the sub place, he pulled the door open for her. “Do you like mushrooms?”

  Her eyebrows hitched in a very cute and confused tilt. He glanced at her mouth.

  “What?”

  “Mushrooms. They make a sandwich here called the Tension Killer. It has four different kinds of meat, all sorts of vegetables, and fried mushrooms with a layer of cream cheese.”

  Her mouth tilted as if squelching a smile as she surveyed the menu. “Really?”

  “I swear.”

  When she lifted her eyes to his, it was all he could do to keep from bending down to take that mouth. She looked amazing, in a crazy, sad, and vulnerable way. “Oh, I see it. Is it good?”

  Roger shrugged. He had no idea. “I’ve never had the courage to try it. It sounds dangerous.”

  Caroline shifted from one foot to the other and lifted her lips in a devilish dare. “I will if you will. Let’s share one.”

  He laughed. “How did I know you’d say that?”

  She blinked her eyes in an innocently sexy way. “Like you said, leopards don’t change their spots.” She punched an index finger to his chest then back at herself. “You sane, me crazy.”

  She had that backwards, but he’d let her learn on her own how un-sane he really was. He gave their order to the guy at the counter.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Who’s Caro?” Ruth Freeman didn’t bother with small talk once a bee had gotten under the family blanket. It was a pretty damn crowded blanket with Roger and his three siblings, but somehow she always had a keen sense of what belonged and didn’t.

  “What?”

  Why’d he agree to grill for them? She tapped the yellow pad on his coffee table. “Caro.” Oooh. He really should find another outlet for his idleness other than doodling. His drawings were almost like a diary, and people always wanted to analyze the results.

  “No one,” he lied.

  “Then why does it have a hammer there pounding on your brain? Or is that someone else’s brain?” His mother squinted. “It looks like a stomach, complete with a pile of intestines.”

  “Mom.”

  “A psychiatrist would say that’s a clear sign someone is driving you crazy ... someone named Caro or—”

  “It’s Caroline. And she’s not driving me cra
zy. She is crazy.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  He should’ve kept his mouth shut, but Caroline’s blog continued to rant about men in general, and for some reason he’d taken it personally. His morning routine included a steady roll of responses perfectly worded to defend the male species. Of course he’d kept his identity secret. His blog name was totally original, something she’d never guess. Frederick, in honor of his hound. He’d named Conan after a guy named Frederick Conan, one of his neighbors in college. For some reason, Roger thought he looked a lot like his new puppy, though he’d never confessed as much.

  “She used to be so different. She was fun and smart and talented and—”

  His mother focused on his face, causing him to squirm. “Used to be? How long have you known this woman, and why haven’t I heard anything about her? Wait.” She took a step forward and planted a hand on his forearm. “Is this that girl from college? The one you wanted us to meet?”

  “That’s the one.”

  She squeezed his arm. “So she’s back?”

  He turned to pick up his iPad, faking boredom as he rattled his head. “Nope. Not in that sense. She’s back in town, though, runs a florist shop downtown. Here’s their blog.” He thrust the screen toward his mother.

  “Oh. That’s nice. So, you’re still seeing Marina then? I like Marina. She’s perfect for you.”

  He snickered. “She’s perfect for you, you mean. No, I’m not seeing Marina. We’ve had dinner or lunch a couple of times, that’s all.”

  His mother scrolled a finger across his tablet. He tried to move away, but she reached a hand out and pulled it from his grasp, surveying the screen. “They have some nice stuff. I’ll have to go by and check it out sometime.”

  He stiffened. Oh, hell no. “You mean check her out, don’t you?”

  “Of course not. I just ... you never know when you might need a nice gift or a trinket for a party.”

  He sighed. “Riiiiight.”

  “Don’t be ugly now. Besides, whatever happened to the college girl? One minute you couldn’t wait for us to meet her, and the next she was on the other side of the world.”

  Rebecca lifted her head from the textbook she’d buried herself into, “Yep, she sure couldn’t wait to ditch your ass.”

  “Hey, watch it.” Roger frowned as Conan took the cue and growled. Unfortunately, his wagging tail made him appear less than threatening.

  “Face it, brother. You suck with women. No wonder Mom had to find you a girlfriend.”

  “She’s not—and we’re not dating.”

  “Then why was she leaving your place at one a.m. on a Friday?”

  His mother switched her focus from the tablet to Rebecca. “Which one? Marina or Caro ... line?”

  Rebecca shrugged. “I don’t know. Tall, sleek, wild blonde hair.”

  Ruth nodded and smiled. “Marina.”

  Rebecca gasped. “Then who’s Caroline?”

  Roger sighed. “None of your business. You’re spying on me now, sis?”

  Rebecca shuttled a glance at their mother, then shrugged. “I went out with some friends, but they didn’t want to take me home. I was gonna crash here until I saw some chick in the window. When I called Mom—”

  “You called Mom to tell her there was a woman in my apartment? Seriously?”

  Ruth patted his head. “Relax. She was just looking out for you.”

  “Was she now? Sounds to me like her nose was bent from sticking it in my business.”

  Rebecca patted Conan and tapped her pen on the table. The stiletto noise clicked through the silence. “I was debating whether to call you and ask if I could stay when she walked out the door.”

  “You saw us?”

  At least Rebecca had the decency to blush—and keep tapping the damn pen. “Yeah. Nice set of tonsils. I wasn’t sure if she was coming out or going back in for a quickie. Or maybe you already…”

  Roger held up a hand. That was none of their business. “Stop.”

  Ruth darted a glance between her kids. “So, you’re still seeing her. Why the note about Caro, or Caroline? You aren’t playing both sides of the card, are you?”

  Roger yanked the pen from Rebecca’s hand. “I said stop. I’m not playing any cards. I’m not dating either one of them. And I don’t need you guys spying on poor girls at work in order to find me a date. I can get one on my own.”

  Ruth grinned. “Great! Then bring one of them to dinner this weekend.” Her cell beeped. “Oh, I have a message.” She dug through her bag, pulled out the device, then glanced at the screen. “I’d better go.”

  Relief flooded Roger’s shoulders. “Someone needs you?”

  She frowned. “Not really. Odd. Someone remembers me. Not sure who this is. His name is Landon. The only Landon I know was from years ago, and I haven’t—” Her cell beeped again. “Oh. Ummm, look, I’ll see you guys this weekend. Bring that date, Roger.” She pointed a finger in warning before tossing her cell in her purse and rushing out.

  His mother was texting? Weird. “That was strange.” He watched the door as it slammed closed.

  Rebecca nodded. “No kidding. You think she knows she forgot me?”

  The door flung open, and Ruth’s hair fell over flushed cheeks. “You coming or not?”

  Roger swallowed a grin and nodded at his baby sister. “Asked and answered.”

  After the car’s engine roared away, he picked up his cell and called Caroline. It rang three times before she answered. “You busy this weekend?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Okay that was a stupid idea. Why’d he try?

  He heard a popping noise. “I’m working. We take turns doing the weekend shift, and I have this one. Why?” More popping.

  “What’s that noise?”

  A couple seconds ticked by. “Oops. I like to pop those little air bubbles they pack the plants in. I’m addicted to it. Can’t help myself.”

  He smiled. “My mother read your blog.”

  “Really? Why?”

  He searched for an appropriate response. Probably shouldn’t tell her he’d been doodling about her and calling her crazy. He had no intention of admitting to commenting regularly on her blog either. “I don’t know. I guess she saw one of your ads in the paper.” Before she could ask anything else, he forged further. “It’s a great blog. I suppose someone with your journalistic background finds it easy to write all that stuff.”

  “Not really, but we’re struggling. The store is struggling. If I keep writing, people keep reading. Sometimes it gets them in the store out of curiosity. The business is improving as a result. I’ve also accumulated a few weirdos along the way, but I guess that goes with the territory.”

  “Weirdos?”

  “Yeah, some ass-wipe blogger keeps leaving snarky comments. People seem to like him though.”

  He feigned ignorance. “That’s good. So, the weekend’s out—what about tonight?” He sucked in his gum and coughed. His eyes watered. Had he really asked again? “Never mind, I was just kid—”

  “Sure.”

  She said yes? “Oh. Great. You can fill me in on your trek across Europe and how the contract reporter thing went.”

  Silence fell between them like a cannonball.

  He tried to recover. “Or we could just, you know, talk about the shop. Or me. That’s always a good subject.”

  He heard a snicker. At least she found him funny. “Sounds fabulous. That should take, what, a minute or two? You’re such an interesting guy, you know.”

  “Ouch. Nice. Worst-case scenario, we eat and listen to the music or the conversations around us. How much time do you need to get ready?”

  Pop. Pop. Pop. The bubbles were taking a beating again. Was she nervous or bored? “I’m at work and can’t leave until I close up at eight.”

  “I’ll be there at eight.”

  • • •

  At seven thirty, the door jangled open, and Caroline was mildly annoyed to see Roger approach. She had wanted to
comb her hair and put a touch of makeup on, but the shop had been busy. “You said eight.”

  “I thought you might want some help, and I was bored.”

  “I can handle this. I just have to unbox some stock and lock up. You are a distraction.”

  “What? You can’t handle me and this?” He gestured at the shop.

  She arched a brow. “Are you baiting me to say something stupid so you can deliver a clever comeback like ‘I’ll let you handle me any time’? Or maybe ‘wanna lock me up too’? Or—”

  Roger plucked a leaf from a plant. She gave him her best chastising glare. He returned a dimpled grin. “I can do those things. Or I can leave. Your choice.”

  She wanted to slap his rude face, but instead she pulled a box knife from the drawer and pointed it toward him. “You can stay. But I know how to use this, so behave yourself.”

  “When have I not behaved?”

  Her insides did a little somersault at the thought as she took a trip to the past and relived a memory or two. That was the thing. She wasn’t really interested in going back there—but she sure liked remembering.

  “I don’t think I want to answer that question.”

  Roger held up his hands in surrender then slowly turned a palm over and flicked his fingers in request. “I’ll do the boxes. Where are they?”

  She held her back stiff as he followed her to the stockroom. She showed him what to do and returned to the store. A few minutes later, a laugh bellowed from the depths of the room.

  “What’s so funny?” she called, not wanting to go see. She didn’t trust herself in that small room with him. Not for long.

  “Your partner’s screensaver. When did you guys take these pictures?” His voice echoed through the door.

  Uh-oh. Damn, she wished she’d thought about the computer before letting him into their private space. A chill settled in her shoulders. It was one thing for Abby to make a video of their skinny-dipping experience in the freezing cold water in France. It was something totally different to have a complete stranger view her bare ass as she tiptoed to the edge and did a screaming belly-flop into the murky water. Over and over. Abby had thought it hilarious to edit the clip so that it could be viewed on a loop.