Bachelorette for Sale

by Gail Chianese

  After a few minutes the dog’s howls quieted down, and when no one came to the door Jason turned to leave. Probably for the best. He’d tried to be the good guy and this was fate’s way of telling him to steer clear. The quiet click of the latch stopped him on the top step and he looked over to see Cherry peeking out through the open door.

  “I’m not interrupting, am I?” he asked.

  “No.” She opened the door farther, holding on to the dog with one hand. “Come on in. Sorry I didn’t hear you at first. I was scrubbing the bathroom with the music blasting.” She had changed from her work clothes into an old T-shirt and really short shorts exposing miles of creamy flesh.

  Not your standard French maid uniform, but he could work with it.

  “No prob. If you’ve got some extra energy left, you’re welcome to come over to my place. I could put you to work.” He took in the neat apartment, noted the eclectic mix of vintage and modern furnishings. Every space was utilized in such a way as to make the apartment feel bigger than its actual square footage. Which would have worked except for the multitude of plants—they were everywhere; hanging from the ceiling, on stands, the coffee table, you name it—not yet Jurassic Park, but getting there. In one corner stood two six-foot-tall bookcases, the shelves bowed under the weight of books, pictures, and dust catchers. A sofa sat angled to view TV or look out the bay window over the backyard. Opening off the living room was the dining area, with a wood table for four. The place reminded him of the lady in front of him: compact, yet layers deep.

  “Sorry to have canceled on you today.” She spun around from closing the door. “Oh, Tawny did show up in my place, didn’t she?”

  “Yep. Said she’d submit the report to the board on Monday.”

  Her features scrunched up in confusion as she looked at him, taking in the brown paper bag he carried. “Was there some kind of problem you needed to discuss with me?”

  Jason walked over to the little dining table, opened the bag, and took out one plastic container after another. “Nope. Have you eaten yet?”

  She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and took in the scents. “No, and that smells wonderful. You brought me dinner?”

  “Based on the tone of your e-mail, you sounded beat. I take it Bridezilla didn’t take the hint with the bubonic plague?” He pulled out the bottle of wine and watched Cherry’s face light up.

  “Bless you, you really are an angel sent from heaven, aren’t you? Wine and dinner. My nerves will forever be in your debt. And no, Mrs. Gibson, Bridezilla, whipped out a medical face mask and carried on. The good news is, as of five o’clock this evening they are the proud new residents of their own apartment and I am done with them.” Cherry sank into the chair, eyeing the bottle he held in his hand.

  He held it up, looking around for a corkscrew.

  “Oh, top drawer, left hand side, third slot over. Is this pad thai?”

  He found the corkscrew exactly where she said it would be. No digging around, everything was laid out precisely and neatly in the drawer. A slight touch of OCD or neat freak, he thought, not for the first time. Glasses hung upside down under the cabinet—as expected—and he grabbed two of them before heading back to the table. “Shrimp or chicken, lady’s choice.”

  She pointed to the shrimp and he passed it over.

  “How did you finally convince her to settle on a place?” He poured the wine and passed her a glass.

  She took a sip of wine before answering him. One sip turned into another and another and another. Reaching out, he stopped her before she could drink any more.

  “Slow down, tiger. That’s my homebrew, and it’s a bit more potent than store bought. Wouldn’t want you passing out in your noodles, would we?”

  She sat her glass down and picked up her fork. “It’s an excellent vintage.”

  Together they dug into their respective bowls, neither speaking as they ate. The silence should have felt odd—they didn’t really know each other that well—yet it was comforting. He watched the tension leave her shoulders as the wine and food hit her system, saw the stress lines between her brows diminish as the week’s events became a forgotten memory.

  He needed to talk to her about the break-in they’d had last week, which was the other reason he’d come over tonight, to give her the new keys to the center. She looked up at him and smiled. It was a tired, content smile. Now wasn’t the time to bring up what was probably just bored kids blowing off steam. If he did, she’d spend the weekend worrying about something she’d have no control over, which she didn’t need to since the issue was resolved. It wasn’t fair to ruin her weekend. Even he wasn’t that much of an ass.

  She pushed the empty bowl away and picked up her glass. “Thank you, this is exactly what I needed. And so much better than what I planned on eating before you arrived. I was going to slap together a PB and J and call it done. I didn’t have the heart to do more.”

  “After the week you’ve had, who could blame you? I know at the end of a crappy day or week, the last thing I feel like doing is cooking or staring at my four walls by myself.”

  She passed her glass over for a refill. “Well, you saved me from cooking and eating alone. So, Dr. Jason, what else do you recommend for erasing a bad week?”

  He cleared the dirty dishes by dropping all the plastic ware back into the paper bag so he could drop it in the Dumpster on his way out. “The trick is to keep your mind occupied. Then you can’t think about the bad stuff. Personally, my favorite is through physical activity that makes it impossible to think.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her as he gave this suggestion. “Or we can find the worst thing on TV, like a B horror movie, and dissect the whole thing as we watch it.”

  Her whole face lit up as she stared at him. Yeah, he was glad he’d ignored Fubar’s earlier advice, which was to send flowers. They might have made her just as happy, but he wouldn’t have been here to see her smile.

  Cherry fidgeted with her glass and glanced up at him from under her long lashes, but did not meet his gaze. “Sounds like fun. I’m sure you have something more exciting to do on a Friday night than sit around here and keep me company.”

  “Hey.” Jason reached out, lifted her chin until she was looking him in the eye. “I’m right where I want to be.” He meant it too. He knew he shouldn’t be here, had no business being here, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to be here. All week long he’d looked forward to seeing Cherry, especially since their talk on Wednesday. He found himself thinking of her at odd times and had planned to talk her into going out for dinner tonight. He might not want a relationship, but there was something about this woman that made him do the complete opposite of what he should, and right now he didn’t care.

  “Shall we see what’s on tonight?” Cherry asked.

  Together they rose and he bumped his head against her nose.

  “Ow.” Cherry reached up and covered her nose. “How’s your forehead?”

  “Better than your nose, I’m betting. Let me see.” He moved her hand and chuckled. “You look like Rudolph. Here let me make it better.” Before either of them registered what he intended, he leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. “Better?”

  The air around them crackled with tension as Jason gazed into Cherry’s fathomless blue eyes. She stood before him with her lips slightly parted, an invitation if he ever saw one. He dipped his head to taste her luscious lips and she bobbed out of the way, bouncing over toward the kitchen.

  “How about some popcorn? We can’t watch a movie, especially a bad one, without popcorn. What would we throw at the screen?” The words tumbled out in a rush, giving away her nerves.

  Jason leaned a hip against the counter, watching her frantic search. “Sounds good. I’ll go find us a hacker flick.” He refilled their wineglasses and settled in on the couch while he scrolled through the menu.

  Tucker jumped up on the couch next to him. He sat, staring at Jason. “Hey, boy, how’re you doing?” Jason absently rubbed his ears. Tucker let out
a small woof that Jason took to mean “keep going,” so he rubbed the dog’s back thinking he’d lie down and snuggle in. Nope, the dog kept staring at him. He picked Starship Troopers, because who could resist a movie about giant bugs invading Earth?

  Cherry curled up on the other side of Tucker with a giant bowl of buttered popcorn in her lap. “I love this movie. What happened to picking a bad movie?”

  He craned his neck around to look past the dog. “It’s got a Busey. That automatically makes it a hacker, not to mention alien insects wiping out mankind.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s also got Neil Patrick Harris and Casper Van Dien. Everybody loves NPH.”

  “I’ll give you that. But it’s still the worst thing on tonight.” He reached for a handful of popcorn and Tucker growled, leaning into his mistress. “Whoa, boy, it’s okay.”

  “Tucker. Stop that. Jason’s a friend, remember?” She hugged her dog closer. “I think he’s a little miffed with you for not bringing Bam tonight. He’s got a bit of a crush on her.”

  Well damn, he hadn’t seen that coming. “Sorry, buddy. Promise I’ll bring her next time.” He caught Cherry’s gaze, held it as he made the promise to the dog, searching her face for any sign that she’d be okay with a next time.

  “Tucker, go lie in your bed. Go on, boy.” Cherry nudged the dog’s butt, pushing him off the couch. With the amount of effort it took her, you’d think he was a Saint Bernard instead of a twenty-five-pound beagle.

  He didn’t go lie in his bed. He sat at Jason’s feet staring at him. Talk about awkward. Every now and then Jason’s gaze would stray from the TV to the dog, whose lip stayed in a permanent curl at him. “Wait for it, here comes the requisite fight scene between the ranks.”

  Cherry grabbed a handful of popcorn and threw it at the TV screen. “Boo. She’s not worth it. Why can’t he see what’s right in front of him? Dizzy is clearly the perfect choice. Carmen is only looking for the guy with the most power and money.”

  Her eyes were filled with passion as she yelled at the character Rico in the movie, giving him dating advice he couldn’t hear and, even if he could, wouldn’t take. She bounced up and down, shifting her position to tuck one of her legs under her, and gave him a sneak peek at a small moon-shaped birthmark on her inner thigh.

  The room got quiet and he looked up to find Cherry watching him. Busted. Could she blame him for looking?

  “You’re not watching the movie,” Cherry stated.

  “No, I’m watching you.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re more fascinating.”

  He leaned in. Her lips parted, her eyes closed, and he claimed her mouth for his own. A soft sigh escaped through her parted lips. She tasted like salty butter with a touch of spice from the noodles. He scooted closer, pressing in hard against her soft body, taking the kiss deeper. She shifted to move her legs so he was positioned over her center.

  Lost in the moment, it took him a couple of seconds to register that something warm and wet had soaked his leg.

  Jason jumped up and looked down at his wet leg and foot. Cherry sat biting her lip, trying not to laugh, losing the battle.

  “I’m so sorry. He’s never done that before. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. Maybe he’s trying to tell you he’s the alpha here.”

  “Yeah, well, I think that’s my sign to leave.” Obviously the dog didn’t want him there. Maybe it was fate’s way of slapping him upside the head and giving him a chance to get out before he made a mistake.

  Chapter Eleven

  Saturday morning Cherry pulled up in front of her grandparents’ house as her gramps whizzed by on his riding lawn mower. He shot her a quick wave as he disappeared around the corner. Gram sat on her garden cart pulling weeds in the front flower bed as the sun shone down on her, turning her cheeks a nice rose shade. Perfect, as Cherry needed them out of the house for what she had planned.

  She crossed the yard to kneel down next to her grandmother, automatically reaching for the offending plants.

  “Hi, sweetheart, what brings you over today?”

  “Didn’t know I had to have a special reason to stop by and see you two.” Cherry dusted her hands, sat back on her heels, and studied the fat white clouds drifting across blue skies, pretending to be miffed. “I guess if you don’t want my company, I can leave,” she teased.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I love when you visit. Now tell me, how was your week? Did your yummy contractor make any progress this week on the center?”

  Cherry fell backward on her butt. “Gram.”

  “I’ve got eyes, don’t I? I may be old, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still appreciate the opposite sex. Both of those boys looked like fine men. Don’t suppose Tawny is interested in his friend, is she? I could see the two of them together.”

  “Dave?” she asked, confused. How did her gram know who he was? “Wait, when did you see him?”

  “There was a nice article on the center in the News Today with a picture of you and the men. Very handsome. If I were fifty years younger, lass . . .”

  “Oh, Gram! Tawny’s in New York with her mom this weekend. If she and her aunt haven’t got Tawny married off before Monday, I’ll be sure to let her know she has your blessing. And to answer your original question, I had to work late, so Tawny did the inspection for me yesterday.” For some reason she wasn’t ready to share last night with anyone yet.

  “You know you have my blessing too.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

  “Thanks, Gram. Don’t you think you should meet the guy before you try to marry us off? And maybe I should actually be dating him first too.”

  “Well, what’s stopping you? Honey, I know it hasn’t been easy, what with your parents disappearing like they did. I wish I could give you closure, tell you what happened to them that day, but I know one thing for sure. Deep in my heart, I know they didn’t walk away. They never would have left you on their own accord. You were their world.”

  “I know, Gram. Thanks.” She laid her head on her grandmother’s shoulder, soaking up the love and comfort. On one level she knew her gram was right, but deep in her heart where it mattered the most was still the belief created by a broken eight-year-old—her parents had lied to her and then abandoned her—even though she knew better on a cerebral level. “I just wish the private detective I hired had found something out. It would be nice to have some kind of closure instead of thinking they took off for greener fields.”

  Her gram reached around and held her. “They’d never do that. As for that ex-fiancé of yours, you made a mistake on the show, picking Ari instead of Jake. We all make mistakes. Ari just made yours public fodder to boost his singing career. Lord knows he needed something, because he sounds like a cat on fire when he sings. The point is, you learn from what happened, push the experience behind you, and move on.”

  If only Gram knew the full details of Cherry’s mistake. No one knew. Not her grandparents. Not her best friend. Well, Jake knew, as he was fully engaged in said activity that would be labeled “mistake of a lifetime.” Cherry could only be thankful Ari didn’t know what had happened on the overnight dream date with Jake or she was sure the entire world, heck, the universe, would know.

  “I’ll try, Gram.”

  “When do you see your young man again?” Gram carried on, ignoring the fact that Jason was not Cherry’s young man.

  “Tonight.” No way was she leaving last night as unfinished business.

  “A Saturday night? Sounds like a date to me. What are you going to wear?” Her gram never stopped pulling weeds, taking her time to pick out the bad flowers from the good.

  Wrinkling her nose at her grandmother, she looked away. There was no denying the attraction between the two of them. Last night had put that subject to rest. She hoped by the end of tonight she’d know what they both wanted to do about it.

  “Are you so sure this isn’t a date?”

  Cherry sat picking grass, her gram’s words running through her mind. “Gram, I k
ind of wish it was. The timing’s all wrong. Jason has his business to focus on, and there’s this reporter who’s just looking for a story, and then there’s Stan. Let’s not forget our first date wasn’t a date but was a business deal for him. While I like Jason, his actions were too much like Ari’s—using me to get ahead. I don’t know if I can get past that.”

  “Hand me those baby roses over there, please.” Her gram pointed to a cart of flowers. Cherry got up and wheeled the old wagon closer, handing her one plant at a time. Her gram took her time, making sure the hole was big enough, sprinkling a special concoction meant to make the roses flourish before putting her flowers in, and then covering them up with fresh soil, gently patting the ground. “Hmm.”

  She knew that sound, had heard it countless times growing up during their many discussions. “What?”

  “Just thinking. Dinner might have started out as business, but things, people, plants, life, have a way of changing, of going a different direction when you least expect it. The way I heard it, sparks were flying back and forth.”

  “George needs to mind his own business.”

  “You’re as much George’s business as Tawny is and you know it. Same as Tawny is as much mine as you are, Cherry Anne.”

  Oops, her middle name. Never a good sign. “Yes, ma’am. Still, how do I know he likes me for me and isn’t pretending to get the recommendation for his company?”

  Gram reached over and patted her cheek, pure love radiating from her eyes. “You trust your heart and your head. Don’t close yourself off to the possibilities. You never know what’s out there. Sometimes, what we’re looking for is standing right in front of us, staring us in the face.”

  A second later the loud roar of the lawn mower drowned out anything Cherry might have said in return as her gramps came zipping around the corner. He cut the engine to idle. “Kitty-Kat, will you get me a glass of your lemonade? I’m working up quite a thirst with all this work.”