As J.B. showed her his drill press, his band saw, his table saw, his sanders, she looked at his big hands and how honest and capable they were. They were hands that gave back to the world, hands that made love, hands that she wanted to hold when she walked somewhere.
And they were so different from her citified, manicured ones. She truly lived on a different planet one faster paced and with alternate priorities.
He touched her back and she felt his heat through the thin cotton of the dress. "Do you want a drink?"
"Sure." She should be drinking water in this heat, but the light was growing a little softer and he had some excellent bourbon.
He bribed Harley into good behavior with a rawhide chew, and they took their drinks out to the little lake with its waterfall. They sat at his table.
"My dogs would love this," she said wistfully. "So much room to run."
Harley grinned a toothy doggie grin at her and slobbered over his chew. J.B. prodded him in the backside with the tip of his boot and was rewarded with a look of adoration.
"You watch. He'll be done with that in about a half hour and go right into the water. He's a mess."
She laughed and sipped at her bourbon. "He's a dog. That's what they do best."
He eyed her lazily. "If you hadn't told me about your greyhounds, I'd so have pegged you for a cat person."
"I like cats, too. But people don't raise them in horrific conditions, feed them raw meat and then discard or destroy them when they're not fast enough." She set her glass down with a snap and was then afraid she'd cracked it. "Sorry."
She sighed. "I'm currently involved in a big suit against some people who hired the equivalent of a hit man to kill off a bunch of their racing dogs. They got too old, or had injuries, or just weren't fast enough. So this guy would take them out to his farm, shoot them and throw them into a mass grave full-of thousands of other dog carcasses."
She stopped, picked up her drink and tossed some of the bourbon back. "But being a budget-conscious guy, he only allotted one bullet per dog. So if he missed, he'd just toss the poor thing into the grave and bury the dog alive ."
She slammed her glass back down and said through clenched teeth, "It's somebody else's job to make sure these bastards rot in hell, but it's my job to try to get them punished while they're still on earth."
J.B. shook his head in disgust.
Her mouth quivered. "I'd have twenty greyhounds if I could."
"What's stopping you?"
"The size of my apartment. But as I told you, I've sponsored a lot of other dogs, found them homes. By the way, have you given any thought to"
"Yes," J.B. said, his mouth quirking. "I'm going to work on modifying that shed out there, and I also have a spare bedroom in the house. I can take a few. And I'll even work on Roman and Alex for you."
She jumped up and threw her arms around him. "You are not only a knight in shining oven mitts, you're a knight with a shining leash!"
"Boy, do I have you snowed." J.B. reddened slightly. He kissed her, then stood up and dug into his left pocket. "I was going to wait and give you this before you left, but what the hell." He took her hand, dropped something heavy into it, and closed her fingers.
She opened them to find the gorgeous silver bracelet of linked greyhounds she'd admired in La Villita. "J.B.," she whispered. It was warm from his body heat, since it had sat snug in his pocket for most of the day.
He fastened it around her wrist.
"Thank you." She would have gone on, but he put a finger to his lips and pointed as a deer poked its head around the edge of the small waterfall. Cautiously, it took a few steps forward.
"Harley, stay," J.B. said in warning tones.
The dog's nose came up and he saw the deer immediately. Though Viv sensed that he wanted with every fiber of his canine being to charge the other animal, he obeyed his owner.
The deer had a fawn with it, and Viv felt warmed by the simple pleasure of watching the animals. They munched here and there while Harley vibrated like an egg sizzling in a pan. " No ," J.B. said to him again.
Viv was amazed that he listened. She watched the deer and tried to imagine one in Manhattan It would immediately become venison, courtesy of a taxi.
"What are you thinking?" J.B. asked her. She told him and he chuckled.
"I love the city and I hate the city," Viv said. "On the one hand, it's exciting and vibrant and alive. On the other hand, it's a hassle. The best of the best live there, and yet sometimes they're the worst of the worst."
"Meaning?"
"Take my firm, for example. More Ivy League, law review overachievers than you can squeeze onto one floor. The combined brilliance of these people would -probably run a whole power grid. And yet most of them are such assholes."
"Those exist everywhere, Vivvie. You can trust me on that."
"Not of this caliber. These people are the creme de la creme of assholes."
He laughed.
"It's really not funny. And I fit in there perfectly: two Ivy League degrees, law review, top of my class. What does that make me?"
J.B. let out a breath. "You make you who you are. Only you decide that. But I can tell you what I see: a Tough Girl who's got a good heart. Cares about the underdogs, quite literally. Even if you treat those dogs better than you treat your men" He shot her a provocative look.
She'd had too much relaxation and fun and bourbon to get mad. She winked at him. "Watch your mouth, J.B., or you might not get your Scooby Snack."
There was nobody around at all besides him and the animals. Viv stood, pulled her dress over her head and tossed it at him. She unhooked her bra and threw that, too. Then she headed for his bedroom wearing nothing but his bracelet, a thong and a smile.
* * *
Chapter Twenty
Viv's thong did not stay on long. J.B. had her on his big bed in seconds flat and kissed her everywhere a woman could be kissed, while Harley roamed free outside.
"Counselor," he said, from between her breasts, "I'd like to make a motion for permanent nudity on your part."
She wasn't in the mood to deny him anything. Especially not when his mouth encircled her nipple and he tugged gently on it with his teeth before moving into pleasure, full throttle.
"I can't seem to get enough of you," he whispered. She knew the feeling. As she opened her mouth to his, and opened her legs to him, she was awfully afraid that she was opening her heart, too. But sensuality shoved panic out of the way for now, and she spun away from all logical thought.
She guessed it had something to do with having a large, handsome, naked man looming over her and moving deliciously inside her, wanting her with a fierceness and a possessiveness to which she was unaccustomed.
"Look at me, Vivvie," he said.
She opened her eyes. His own were heavy lidded, and he'd caught his lip between his teeth as he drove into her and pulled out, the rhythm building more and more tension. Sweat beaded on his forehead and under his jaw as he stroked in and out between her thighs.
She took his face in her hands and kissed him while her body met his in every possible way. She ran her hands along his jaw, to his neck and up to his ears, where she felt again those soft, velvety lobes.
He took her nerve endings and tied them into little knots of fabulous sensation all over. And when she climaxed, eyes open and looking deep into his, she was possessed by a single thought: 7 love you .
She loved the way he kissed her, the little bump on his nose where it had been broken in a college football game, and the feel of his warm breath on her cheek. She loved his stubbornness, his amazing loyalty, and the fact that he made beautiful furniture with his own hands. She loved that he'd taught her to drive, was converting his shed for needy greyhounds, and saw through all her defenses and postures to the person she really was inside.
This simple country boy had stolen her big-city heart.
She lay in the big bed with him spoon style, turning his bracelet on her wrist and feeling her body begin the i
nevitable stiffening process. Was she crazy? She couldn't love this man. They lived over a thousand miles away from each other. He was an idealist and she a cynic. She didn't believe in happy endings.
But for the first time, she wanted to stay overnight with a man. She wanted to fall asleep, and stay asleep in his arms. Not be so alone
"You're doing it again," J.B. said into her ear.
"Doing what?"
"Going into postcoital rigor mortis."
"I am not." She sat up and shoved the hair out of her face. " Rigor mortis ?"
"Yes. What is up with that?"
She stared at him. "I don't know," she admitted. "I guess I just come back to the real world."
"You get defensive." He propped his chin on his hand and looked up at her. "What are you defending yourself from?"
You. Me. My feelings. The idea of an actual relationship, because it won't work. We are just too different . But she didn't say any of this aloud. She just shrugged.
J.B.'s face shuttered. "Still won't talk to me, huh."
"It's not that. I just" She threw up her hands. "I just don't know what to say!" She could have been five years old again, being told to "share herself" in a letter to a man who could care less.
He shook his head. "Nobody hands you a script, Vivvie." He looked sad. "You've got to develop your own character."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Whatever you want it to." He rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom, looking curiously vulnerable for such a big man.
When he returned she'd huddled under the quilt, missing his warmth and still shell-shocked at what she'd admitted to herself. She was in love with the big, naked Texan frowning down at her. How had she let this happen? How had she left a chink in her armor big enough for him to get through?
Of all the stupid, moronic, idiotic things she could do, falling for a guy like J.B. was the crowning glory. Because, all other issues aside, no matter how much he denied it, or how sexually attracted to Viv he might be, he was still hung up on his ex-wife.
The idea of it burned like acid inside her.
He sat down on the bed and touched her hair. "When are you going back, Viv?"
"I don't know. Soon," she said bitterly. "As soon as I can get Julia to wake up and sign a damned prenup."
His hand froze on her head. Then he removed it. He got up and pulled on his jeans in frozen silence.
Finally he said, "I'll take you back to the Motor Inn now."
She sat up and stared at him. "IbutI thought I'd stay I wanted to wake up next to you in the morning at least once before we said goodbye."
J.B. fished his shirt off the floor, his actions weary. "Don't strain yourself, Vivvie. It would take more out of you than you're willing to give."
Her mouth dropped open.
"But as usual, the sex was great, your performance magnificent."
His words knocked the breath out of her and she couldn't say a word.
"I was guilty, I guess, of forgetting that we were just using each other for sexindulging in a purely animal act. But when all is said and done, we each have opposite values. We should cut this off right now, shouldn't we? You were right all along. We can't let feelings get in the way.
"You go get Julia to sign that prenup, Viv. But I can tell you that Roman will sign it over my dead body. You go on back to Manhattan and bust balls. Dissolve more couples. Perfect your ironclad pre-nups."
His voice dripped with as much contempt as it had that night in Cuvee, and she found herself shaking.
"Was this all an act of revenge, J.B.? Get me back in bed and soften me up so that you could do the kicking out this time? Teach me a lesson?" She tried to keep her voice calm but to her humiliation it broke.
He just narrowed his eyes at her. He seemed about to deny it. Then he exhaled and nodded.
"Good job, then. Congrats. I hope you're happy. But you know what? All this anger and contempt you've got inside you has come out in a very twisted way. Because it's not me you're mad at. No, J.B., you've taken your revenge on the wrong woman' ."
She gave up on keeping calm and screamed it at him. "It's your damned ex-wife who deserves your revenge, not me! But instead, I get it. Because I'm the evil bitch who damaged your ego three years ago.
"I didn't damage your heart the way she did. But you're obviously still in love with the woman, and it makes me sick because she doesn't deserve you!"
Viv took a ragged breath and kept yelling at him. "You want to know why I kicked you out, you stupid son of a bitch? I may as well finally tell you I mean, why not mortify myself even more?
"I kicked you out because I was afraid of falling for you. But it was too late. Two hours, you bastard, and you stole my heart!" She was automatically hunting for her clothes now, and tears blinded her.
Then she remembered that her dress was outside. "Give me a robe!"
He stood there like a statue.
"I kicked you out because I didn't want to miss you. I didn't want to get attached to you. It was going to end anyway, and I didn't want it to end like this ." She dashed a hand over her eyes. "Give me a robe! I don't want to be naked in front of you. Not ever again."
When he still didn't move she grabbed the quilt off his bed, wrapped it around her body and stormed out of his house. Harley ran over to greet her, his tail wagging uncertainly, and this made her cry even more. She wrenched open the passenger side of his truck and pulled out the bag of clothes she'd worn to San Antonio that day.
God only knew where her underwear was, and her bra was still by the lake, but she pulled her shirt over her head and was in the process of unfolding her pants when a BMW 700 Series, driven by the gorgeous blonde she'd seen once in his office, pulled down the driveway. The woman stared at her. Viv stared right back, holding her pants in front of her. It was not her proudest moment.
"You can have him!" she yelled. "I hate the bastard."
Corinne's eyes widened and her mouth formed an " O ." The BMW went into reverse and began to back away, down the driveway.
"I said you can have him !" Viv screamed. She rah after the car while the blonde took one look at her, the bottomless lunatic, and sped backward, squealing out onto the macadam. Harley, who had followed right along with her, barked madly. Then he stuck his cold nose up her butt.
Of all the screwups in all the screwed-up situations in the entire screwed-up nation, J.B. reflected that this one had to rank in the top ten.
He stood at the screen door watching as half-naked Viv chased his ex-wife down his driveway trying to give him back to her . Like he was a freezer-burned piece of meat.
"That's just priceless," he muttered out loud. "Priceless." She deserved more than Harley's nose in her rear. She deserved to be kicked there by a steel-toed boot. He had one of those real handy.
Viv unconsciously mooned him as she put on her pants. He supposed he deserved it. Or did he?
J.B. wasn't sure who deserved what at this point. If, as she claimed, she'd fallen for him in New York, she'd had a damn funny way of showing it.
But he'd paid her back in spades at Cuvee.
Since then it had pretty much been tit for tat, no pun intended. And his tat had been very happy about it.
Until she'd brought up the prenup again and he'd lied about a revenge strategy. Or had he?
He wasn't too sure about that anymore, either. Because originally he had set out to teach the high and mighty Miz Shelton a lesson. But that goal had faded away as he'd fallen for her all over againat least that part of her that was fun and human and not a divorce attorney android.
He sighed. Viv had her shoes on by now and he half expected her to go ahead and steal his truck for the second time, since the keys were still in the ignition. But instead she dug into her purse for her cell phone and started walking down his driveway. She'd tossed his quilt on the hood.
He might not know exactly what to say to the woman, but he would not allow her to walk the two miles back to the Inn. Dusk was fading
into darkness and he had some standards of behavior, which included making sure females got home safely after they were out with him. Or in with him. Oroh, hell and damnation.
He pondered her accusation that he'd taken his revenge on the wrong woman. He rejected the idea, but then turned it over and over in his mind.
Had he, in his efforts to be the good guy, the guy who would prove marriage could succeed, just gone passive-aggressive and then released his rage for Co-rinne at someone else? The problem was, he no longer felt any rage for her. He felt pretty much nothing. Maybe a little curiosity about why she'd been coming to visit him.
He did feel rage about something, though. Maybe maybe his own failure at not being able to hold together the life he'd constructed.
J.B. was just tired right now. Not to mention confused. He jammed his feet into some shoes and banged out of the screen door, making his way to the truck. He got in and told Harley to stay put. He started the ignition and eased down the driveway, only to find Viv sitting on the ground by the entrance.
He lowered his window. "Viv?"
She extended her middle finger in reply.
He sighed. "That is an eloquent argument, Counselor, but I'm more likely to take it as a come-on than an insult."
She stared straight ahead and didn't reply.
"Look, would you get into the truck so I can take you back to the Inn?"
No answer.
"Viv, I can sit here until you get into the truck, or I can physically throw you into it."
She turned her head and shot him a Death Stare. "I don't advise that you lay a finger on me."
Fine . And so they sat, not speaking, until Julia pulled over in her rented Mercury and looked, bewildered, from one to the other. Viv got up, brushed the dirt off her rear, and got into Julia's passenger seat. She again refused to look at J.B., and the two women drove away.
He turned around and went back to his house, his dog and his thoughts.
Julia turned off the radio and Viv waited for her inevitable questions.
"Sooooooo?"
"So we picked up your crystal swans," Viv said.
"Right now, I am not interested in my crystal swans, but thank you very much. Now spill!"
First Dance - [Bridesmaid's Chronicles 03] Page 19