All agreed the true reasons behind the breakup would remain hidden in the cone of silence, never to be spoken of again. Dave produced a deck of cards and began dealing as the other two cleared the dishes away.
“We need to come up with a game plan for work. Unless a miracle happens, with the damage done and the insurance company refusing to pay, the center isn’t going to have enough for all of the repairs before summer. If the job’s not complete, I don’t know if we’ll be getting those recommendations we set out to get at the beginning of this project. Either way, in a few short weeks we’ll be out of work.” He dragged both hands through his hair, looking to his friends for sympathy and understanding. Better yet, a solution.
Dave tossed him a card at his tap. “You know that reporter, the one who keeps hanging around? He told me if you were willing to tell him your story—background, history, how you and Cherry met, what’s it like to date a reality star, and so on—he could get you some big bucks for it.” He flipped a card in the pile and drew another.
Jason looked at him like he had five heads. “Are you fucking insane? He’s lying. The News Today doesn’t pay for stories. Besides, I wouldn’t tell him squat.”
“No, he wasn’t talking his paper. Some national rag. Just saying, with five to six figures for a story, you could be set for a couple of months until the next job came in.”
“No, thanks. Got any more brilliant ideas? Know where I could sell my kidney?”
Typical Dave, he sat with a stunned look on his face, only connecting the dots once someone else drew the line for him. For the next couple of hours they went back and forth, tossing ideas around, occasionally threatening to kick each other’s butts . . . it was what friends did. With the mood they were all in, Jason wasn’t surprised to see the full moon overhead watching over them.
They circled back to the idea of private backers as being their best chance.
“You think you can find any in your circle of clients?” Jason asked Brody as he tossed all of his cards on the table.
“I might have a few. I’ll start looking into it tomorrow, along with Fubar’s reputation problem. Give me a couple of days, my calendar’s packed right now.”
Hands stuffed in his front pockets, Jason walked to the edge of the patio, looking over his grapevines. “We’ve got a couple of weeks until the well dries up, but it’d be nice to see the job complete. I’ve got enough in savings to last me for a few months, have a few leads I’ve been holding off on following up to see how things go with the center. I don’t want to leave them high and dry, but a man’s got to eat and pay the bills.”
Not seeing the project finished felt like wasted time. In time he knew the center would come up with the money, but if, when that time came, he wasn’t available to finish the work, some other contractor—with his luck it would be RIB—would get the credit. The thought alone had his gut burning.
Brody clapped him on the shoulder, “Chill, Cupid, we’ll find a solution. We always come out on top. You should know that by now. I’ve got to jam, have a brief to write before morning. Fubar, shoot me that info tomorrow. Hang in there, bro.”
He was out the door before either Jason or Dave could respond or ask him what was eating him . . . typical Brody.
“I think whoever filed the false complaints is the same person behind the vandalism.” Dave’s voice broke through his thoughts.
“Probably. Let’s hope the nanny cams catch them soon.” He turned back to Dave, who sat kicked back in his chair, his feet propped up in the chair Brody had vacated. The muscles around his face and neck looked considerably more relaxed now that he’d shared his burden. Too bad Jason didn’t feel the same.
On Thursday Jason rolled slowly out of bed, holding his head. When had thirty-one become old? Probably the moment after he downed his sixth beer on a near-empty stomach. Running a hand over his face, he headed for the shower, squinting at the bright sunlight shooting lightning bolts into his eyeballs and clean through his skull. Bam snuggled deeper under his covers, indicating she was no more ready to start the day than he was. Jason turned the water to scalding and stepped under the stream. For a few minutes he did nothing, thought of nothing, simply enjoyed the water pounding on tight muscles while the steam cleared away the cobwebs in his brain.
If one night without Cherry landed him with the mother of all hangovers, he didn’t even want to imagine how he’d survive life without her. The ball might be in her court right now, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t play some strategic defense to sink that baby and score the winning shot. And he’d start today. Right after the aspirin kicked in.
Thinking back over the last few weeks, he couldn’t pinpoint the moment Cherry had stolen his heart, had wrapped his soul around her pinkie. The first step down the slippery slope could have been when she’d agreed to have dinner at Taco Bell. Or maybe when she’d accused him of making porn movies. Now, that would be a good story to tell their kids one day. Whoa! Kids? The more he thought about it, the more the idea settled around him like an old friend.
Cherry would be a great mother. He’d seen her compassion and patience the day of the tag sale, the easy way she spoke to the kids on their level, never down at them, never getting frustrated with how long they took. With her, he’d have the type of family he’d always wanted, one filled with love and laughter. A wife who wasn’t afraid to tell her children she loved them, would always put them first. Family meant everything to her. Her grandparents were proof of where her loyalties lay. His children would never have to worry about their mother leaving.
Maybe her family DNA could cancel out his.
Bam nudged his hand with her nose, bringing him out of his dream world as he stood half-dressed in the bedroom. Looking up at him with her big, brown eyes she gave a little whine and ran for the bedroom door, stopping when he didn’t follow. “Woof.”
“I’m coming.” He grabbed his shirt, let the dog out and headed for the world’s greatest invention: the programmable coffeemaker.
All the way to the center, thoughts of Cherry filled Jason’s mind. “Nothing new there, buddy,” he muttered to himself. Yet these were new thoughts. Thoughts of their future, what it’d be like to wake up every morning with Cherry snuggled up against him, what it’d be like to come home every night to have her arms wrapped around him and be greeted by her sweet kisses.
First they needed to talk, which was hard to do when she was avoiding him. Well, if the mountain (Cherry) didn’t want to come to Mohammed (Jason), Mohammed was going to the mountain. He might even take a few supplies to make sure she sat and listened, like bungee cords and duct tape. What ever it took, that was his motto, and by damn, he was going to get the girl this time.
Grabbing his extra cup of coffee from the holder, Jason stepped out of the truck, his brain already switching gears into work mode, bringing up his to-do list for the day. Busy mentally checking off what to tackle first and who to assign to what task, he didn’t see Bobby, the youngest of the Lawrence brothers who worked for him, running across the parking lot until they’d practically landed in each other’s arms.
Jason executed a quick side step and reached out to grab the other guy. “Whoa, what’s going on? Is someone hurt?” Even with all the bad luck they’d had, it hadn’t gotten that bad yet.
Taking a couple of deep breaths, Bobby turned and started jogging backward while he filled Jason in. “Everyone’s okay. Tim has something important to show you. You missed the cops. Not that they did squat. Worthless.”
He had no idea what the kid was rambling on about, but thankfully they arrived in the main room of the center where Bobby’s older brother Tim stood in deep conversation with Dave.
Jason dropped his bag and work belt near the wall and joined them. “Bobby said the cops were here.”
Tim turned and handed him the tablet, hit a button, and let him see for himself. The timestamp read 23:47 yesterday. A man approached the front door, pulled out a set of keys, and stuck the key into the lock. Before he coul
d turn it, his head jerked toward the parking lot and he said something. The video hadn’t been set up with sound. They didn’t need it to read the word coming out of his mouth.
Finally, the culprit returned.
“Looks like he heard or saw someone, got spooked, and took off. This is the only one with a clear shot of his face, and it’s still shadowed by his hat. I would have called last night . . .” The big guy let out a choice word of his own. “I stepped away from the video to take a leak. When I got back everything looked fine. Wouldn’t have caught this, except this morning when I got here the front gate wasn’t locked. So I started reviewing. Man, I’m sorry I let you down.”
Jason reached out, clapped him on the shoulder, and shook his head. “No apologies. Everyone deserves a break. What did the cops say?”
Tim stuffed his hands in his back pockets, clearly frustrated. “Not much. Nothing was missing, no damage done.”
Now he understood Bobby’s “worthless” comment. Whoever responded did his job, and yeah, nothing was taken or damaged, so really they couldn’t hold it against the cop. Not that they could probably do a whole hell of a lot. The ball cap blocked most of the guy’s face from the camera. What he could see was a white scar running along the jawline and sharp cheekbones. Providence only had about two hundred thousand people, no problem finding one person with that vague description. Still, given the recent history, you’d think the cops would have at least asked for a copy of the tape or something.
If he remembered right, one of the participants in the charity auction had been a Providence cop. Maybe Cherry or Tawny or one of the board members had some pull and could get their friend to at least ask the patrols in the area to keep an eye out. A gut feeling told Jason that whoever the kid at the door was, he was probably working for someone else. Find the teen, find the person responsible for the damage.
Jason gave Tim another clap on the shoulders. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. Let’s go over what needs to be done today. It’s a short list until that shipment comes in. I’ll get this taken care of and then be back here as soon as I can.”
He went through the list with his crew, assigned tasks to everyone, and headed out the door with the video. The local cops did what they could—he knew funding was always short, and time was a precious commodity for the force. Being called out to look at a supposed break-in with nothing stolen or damaged probably seemed like a waste of time to them. Really, could he blame them? As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t. Right now he should be pissed, but he wasn’t because they’d just given him the perfect excuse for dropping in on Cherry at work.
Mountain, prepare to meet Mohammed.
Cherry sat with her head resting in her hands at her desk, wishing the woodpecker that’d climbed inside her brain would die. A fast, painful death would work . . . for both her and the bird. Note to self: Tequila is bad. Never again.
Every time she opened her eyes, pain shot through her skull, making concentration on the huge pile of work in front of her impossible. The list felt overwhelming. Process rent checks, run credit checks, and review applications. Give Jason an answer. So much to do, so little appeal.
Thanks to Woody, her routine work dragged out longer than normal. Focusing was nearly impossible as her mind pinged back and forth through the last conversation she’d had with Jason. She had to get out of there before she lost her mind. Gathering up what she could get done at home, she stuck the papers in her briefcase and tidied up the rest of her space. Maybe she’d go do a little shopping or see her grandmother. Gram always had the best advice.
No, she needed to make this decision on her own. Gram wouldn’t always be there to handle her crises for her. It was high time she put to good use all the counseling the therapists at the center had given her.
Jason. She couldn’t believe how much she missed him after one night. She couldn’t imagine life without him, but did she want to settle? Accepting his proposition felt like settling.
The bell over the front door rang, sounding like the bells of St. Mary’s calling the town to mass while she stood in the belfry. Please let it be for one of the agents, she silently begged. Loud footsteps stopped at her doorway. Ignore them and they will go away. Isn’t that the saying?
“Hello, gorgeous. Miss me?” The voice slid over her skin like silk, the first soothing sound she’d heard all morning. A smile slid into place automatically. Glancing up, the air slipped out of her lungs and forgot to return. He was gorgeous, not her. Leaning against the doorjamb, in his worn work jeans and form-fitting tee that hugged his muscles. He stole breath, thought, and movement from her.
All she could do was admire his physical perfection. And wonder how she got so lucky as to call him hers. “Hi yourself.” She scooted her chair back, crossed her legs and watched his gaze skim down the exposed skin, glad she’d let Tawny talk her into the bright yellow pencil skirt when she saw the look of appreciation in Jason’s eyes. The jury was still out on the royal blue blouse. She stood to meet him, tugging the skirt down and the blouse up, sucking her tummy in, even though it didn’t help. It felt . . . confining.
“What brings you by?” She fiddled some more with the shirt, gently pulling it at the seams.
Jason reached out, took both of her hands, and brought them and her into contact with his chest. One of her favorite places to be. His heart beat a fast-paced tattoo under her palms.
“You are absolutely stunning.” He laid his forehead against hers, took a deep breath, and let it out. “I feel like a man who’s been left to wander in the desert and has stumbled upon an oasis. You are my oasis, Cherry. My sanctuary.”
His mouth claimed hers, devoured it. He kissed her for that moment and for all the moments they’d missed these past few days, leaving her panting and light-headed and wanting. Only this man.
He smiled down at her. “I have some news.”
“We had an anonymous donor come forward and front the entire project?” She knew that couldn’t be it, but hey, if you’re going to dream, dream large.
A pained look passed over his face and she wasn’t sure if what she said sounded stupid to him or set off a lightbulb. “What?”
“Nothing. We caught someone trying to break into the center last night.”
She gasped, half-excited and half-afraid to hear what kind of damage had been done. “Did the cops catch him? Was it Stan or Ford? I’d love to see the weasel behind bars. I don’t suppose his paper would run the story, do you?”
Rich, warm laughter stopped her pacing. Jason pulled her back into his arms, wrapping her in his musky male scent as his hands splayed across her backside to hold her tight. “I love when your Irish temper shows. Your cheeks flame red, your eyes sparkle with passion, and your whole body quivers with power. I feel it’s my civic duty to haul you back to my place and use up all that energy before you hurt someone. But right now, I have to burst your bubble. It wasn’t either. I need a favor.”
What? Neither? She’d been so sure one of them was behind all their problems. “What kind?”
He nipped her lower lip. “I’m hoping your cop friend, the one from the auction, will have a little pull and can help us. Maybe convince the guys on patrol to keep an eye out for the guy on the tape. We don’t have much, but there is one distinguishing mark on him for them to look for. If they can find him, the insurance company might pay up. Can you hook me up?”
The serious man she’d met the night of the gala replaced the playful, sexy Jason, and once again she was faced with the impatient man with the too intense blue-green eyes. Going on the show might not have been the wisest decision she’d ever made, but she couldn’t regret that it’d brought her to Jason. Even if their relationship ended, she wouldn’t wish away the last two months for anything.
“Cherry?”
“Sorry, was trying to remember his name.... Detective Esposito. That’s it, Cesar Esposito. He works major crimes, so I don’t know that he could help us. If nothing else, he could get us in contact with s
omeone who could. Didn’t you call the cops already?”
Jason raked his hand down the side of his face. “We did. They did nothing. Thankfully our friend didn’t get in last night. I think he got scared away. I think the guy on the tape is working for someone else. He was a kid, no more than seventeen, eighteen. He had a key.”
“How did a kid get a key? Only the board and the center’s director have keys. Well, and now your team.”
“A question for the cops to ask.” Jason continued to lean against the doorjamb while Cherry paced back and forth.
She stopped, turned to him, and said, “This makes no sense. It would mean one of our own is sabotaging us.” She sat on the edge of her desk, holding back tears of anger and frustration. She’d suspected Stan for a while now, but had really hoped she was wrong.
“Call your detective friend; let him find the answers for us. Tonight after work, you, me, and the pups, we’ll spend a quiet night at my place.” Jason pulled her up into his arms, holding her tight against him. Right where she wanted to be. Wanted, safe, loved—all of the things he conveyed without saying a word.
She brushed his lips with hers before pulling away. “Let me call Esposito, see if he needs us to come down there or if he can stop by for the tapes before you go. He might have questions for you.”
A quick call to the number she had on file and the good-looking, friendly detective agreed to stop by in a bit to pick up the tapes. He made no promises other than he’d watch them and see what he could do. Relieved, Cherry relayed the message to Jason that he wouldn’t have to stay.
He bent over her, trapping her in her chair. “I’ll see you around five-thirty, then.” The kiss left her breathless, her toes tingling.
Playing with the hair at the back of his neck, she thought about what was on tonight’s menu and knew she wasn’t ready to make a decision. “I have to go over to my grandparents’ after work.”
Bachelorette for Sale Page 24