by Kim Law
“Well, I think you should date,” Aunt Blu announced. Her words came out a little too loud, and she reached over and patted Jill’s hand. “You haven’t been out with a man since you came home.”
Jill put a hand over Blu’s. “I haven’t been out because I don’t want to, Aunt Blu. And that hasn’t changed.”
“But it could change.” The look in the other woman’s face was earnest, if a little glazed. “A woman needs a man once in a while.”
Jill knew the words weren’t meant to hurt, yet they stabbed anyway. The statement was eerily reminiscent of what her mother used to say.
Janet Sadler would follow up her words by pointing out that Jill was more like her than she realized, and that she’d someday understand. All women needed a good man in their life. It’s what made them whole.
But Jill didn’t understand. She was fine just as she was.
She’d convinced herself she did one time, though. That her mother had been right.
Jill had been trying her entire life not to be needy. Not to be like her mom. But then she’d met Cal, and he’d simply gotten her. Even when they’d been fighting—and they’d fought a lot—they’d connected in a way she’d never expected to find with another person. So she’d given in. She was just like her mom, and she’d finally understood the need for a good man.
Only, turned out he hadn’t been so good, after all. He’d left her in the exact fashion as her mother’s last “good man” had done.
“I really don’t need one,” Jill said again. “And honestly, the only thing I can think a man would be even the slightest bit useful for would be sex. And . . . well . . .” Jill held up her hands, palms up, and Aunt Blu nodded solemnly.
“Right,” Aunt Blu said. “You’ve got fingers for that.”
Trenton and Heather both dunked their heads at Blu’s words. The woman was a trip when she was drinking, and she’d been right. They liked to talk her into playing rummy just to get her drunk. She never won at the card game, and it was one of the few times Jill and the others ever felt they had the upper hand around Blu.
“Sure we can’t put you to bed?” Jill asked.
Blu held up one hand and waggled her fingers in the air. “Because you think I don’t need a man, either?”
“Aunt Blu!” Heather huffed out. “Behave yourself. What would Father Kibby think?”
“He’d probably think that I do need a man.” She squinted in concentration. “And he might be right.”
“He’s not right.” Jill put the water bottle directly into Blu’s hand that time.
“Well, I stand by my statement,” Heather continued. “Jill should go out with Little Red, if for no other reason than to have some fun.”
“And you know that if I did go out with him, it would end up on camera for all to see. Heck, Len would probably follow us on our date.”
“Len is Big Red,” Heather explained to Aunt Blu. “He’s Jilly’s personal cameraman.”
“He’s a pain in my ass,” Jill grumbled.
“I think you should go out with him because it’ll end up on camera,” Trenton told her. “That would take some of the focus off you and Cal.”
Aunt Blu’s water bottle dropped from the table and rolled across the floor. “Vote,” she announced, ignoring the escaping water. Then she raised her hand.
Heather and Trenton followed suit.
“We are not voting on whether I’m going out with Little Red or not.”
“Three to one,” Blu announced. She slapped her hand on the table. “Done!”
The driver of the car behind Cal laid on his horn as he pulled out into the other lane, and passed Cal doing no more than the speed limit. Cal looked down at his odometer. No wonder the other driver had gotten ticked off. They were out on the open highway, and the needle on Cal’s truck pointed to forty.
He pressed the gas pedal, nudging his speed higher, but didn’t force it all that much. He was enjoying his Sunday-afternoon drive, and no one would rush him through it. He’d just spent the last few hours with his grandmother, and though anxious to get back to his farm—to work on the table he’d decided to build for the Cadillac House—he was equally excited to do exactly what he was doing at the moment. Which was driving. And thinking about Jill.
He hit the button to lower the driver’s window as he hung a right onto the road leading to his property, and a waft of good ole Texas air passed over him. There was nothing quite like his home state. Just as there was no one quite like his ex.
He’d had Jill in his truck the other day. And she’d actually talked to him.
Granted, she hadn’t freely climbed inside, nor had their conversation been what anyone would ever term as cordial. At least, not at first. But then it had slipped beyond that, and he’d seen parts of the girl he’d once fallen in love with. Jill was still Jill. Angry, passionate, bold. And stubborn. Always so stubborn.
But also soft.
He thought about the look on her face when she’d been picturing his land with life on it—she’d even picked out a spot to build a barn—and he let out a wry chuckle. All this time, he’d thought her silence had merely been an annoyance to him. That he’d simply wanted to “win”—therefore, he’d sought to break her down and make her speak to him. Yet when he’d had her in his truck . . .
He stared blankly at the road in front of him. When he’d had her in his truck, he’d wanted to keep her there. He’d wanted her naked. In his bed. In the very spot she’d pictured horses running.
Up against the tree that shaded the front of his house.
He held back the groan the thought provoked. What the hell had that been about? He’d truly had no idea he had any remaining feelings for her. Not those kind of feelings, anyway.
He blinked as another car whipped around him, and he realized that he’d once again let off the gas pedal. He then forced himself to pick up speed. Maybe he could be rushed that afternoon, after all. Otherwise his daydreaming would likely get him and others into an accident.
And the thing was, he shouldn’t be daydreaming at all. At least, not about Jill.
His phone rang as he passed a tractor and closed in on his driveway, and though he suspected the call to be from the woman he was dating—who was the only one he should be daydreaming about—he found himself hesitant to answer. Marci had gone to Dallas for the weekend to “punish” him for canceling on her the Saturday before, and he kind of didn’t want his punishment to end.
But that was just him being a jerk. It was also the type of thinking that always precipitated the ending of his relationships.
He pulled out his phone. Marci was a good woman. She didn’t deserve his attitude.
But the number on the screen was Pete’s.
“Hey, man.” Cal turned into his driveway. “Everything okay?” Instead of checking in on any of the worksites the day before, he’d decided to push through Pete’s raise. Things were running smoothly with his foreman at the helm, so Cal had taken a small breather from the Cadillac project and had spent the day at his farm. Right after he’d bought the place, he’d converted an old barn into a workshop. The place had become his go-to for de-stressing, but it had been weeks since he’d had any time to spend there.
“Right as rain.” Pete gave a quick rundown on a couple of the newer jobs they’d started work on, then segued into their weekly basketball game at the rec center. “We going to see you today?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” They met up with several guys at the rec center every Sunday night.
He crested the ridge of his property and headed down the hill. The feeling of being home rolled through him.
“Want to a grab a bite first?” Pete asked. “Or are you with Marci today?”
Cal eyed the grill he’d purchased the day before, where it sat on his front porch, waiting to be assembled. Then he shifted his gaze to the basketball hoop he’d erected on the other side of his workshop. He had plenty of space here. He could invite the whole group out.
But then, concre
te hadn’t been poured for the basketball court yet. And he’d have to run to the store if he offered to grill steaks.
“Not with Marci,” he finally answered. He put the truck into park. “I’ll just meet you at the rec center, though. Got too much going on this afternoon.”
He and Pete disconnected, but Cal didn’t get out of his truck. Because he was thinking about Jill again. About how he’d brought her out here when he’d yet to tell anyone else about the place.
Why had he done that?
And did it even matter? They’d been driving, taking in the sights. It only made sense he’d naturally head this way.
Only, it hadn’t made sense that he’d turn into his drive.
And it sure as hell hadn’t made sense to picture her in his house. Or to put her there naked.
He let out a growl when that very vision once again popped to mind, and stepped from the vehicle. The wise thing would be to forget all thoughts of Jill, bare breasted or otherwise. Maybe to call up his girlfriend and offer an apology. Take her to dinner tonight instead of playing ball with the boys.
However, he’d proven time and again that he wasn’t always so wise. And something told him this time would be no different.
Chapter Nine
“Believe in everything. Marvel at everything discovered.”
—Blu Johnson, life lesson #24
Jill glanced at her watch Monday morning as work buzzed throughout the house . . . then she used the excuse of checking one of the new light switches while at the same time attempting to unobtrusively peek next door. Cal and his team hadn’t worked over the weekend, and that fact had been bugging her since Saturday. The project was only two weeks in, but given the potential state of the house, she’d been hoping Cal would be behind by this point. If We Nail It didn’t finish their renovations on time, Bluebonnet would be the automatic winner.
Not that she wanted to win by default. She’d rather best Cal in true skill—and then grind it in his face. Of course, she would take a win against him in any form it presented itself.
Heather strolled through the front door, and Jill brought her gaze back from next door and breathed a sigh of relief. They could get to work now. And she could quit thinking about Cal. “You’re late,” Jill informed her. She rummaged through the tools to find a level.
“And you’ll survive,” Heather answered. She then handed over one of her business cards, back side up, and Jill looked down to find a phone number scribbled across it.
“What’s this?”
“Your date.”
Jill jerked her gaze up. “My what?”
“Date,” Heather repeated. “We discussed this Saturday night, remember?” She nodded at the card. “Friday night at seven. The Buffalo Nickel.”
“I told you, I’m not going out with Little Red.”
“We voted on it. You have to. Plus,” Heather continued when Jill tried to interrupt her, “I’m going with you. A double date with me and Len. You and I will meet the two of them there.”
Jill’s eyes went wide. “You and Big Red?”
Heather shrugged. “Don’t make a deal about it. It’s just a date.”
Jill stared at her foster sister. Though Heather was the romantic in the group, she rarely went on dates herself. Not anymore. She had a bad habit of falling hard, so she’d found it best to simply avoid.
Was Heather wanting to date again? “Len isn’t the type of man to—”
“Just a date,” Heather said once more. “He’s too old for me, anyway. But he overheard me talking with Doug last week, and he suggested the four of us could go out together. It’s been forever since I’ve had any fun, so I decided what the heck. I stopped him outside a few minutes ago, and it’s done. Friday night at seven. The four of us. Be prepared for dancing.”
Jill still didn’t want to go on a date.
At the same time, it wasn’t as if she’d risk getting serious about a twenty-five-year-old who looked to be about twelve, either. Which made him a safe date. Kind of the way Len would be for Heather.
Then something else occurred to her, and she pointed an accusing finger at her foster sister. “No cameras. That isn’t why Len wants to go, is it? I’m not going on a date and having it filmed.”
Heather held her hands up. “No cameras. I promise. It’s just a date. Come on, Jilly,” she pleaded, even batting her big blue eyes as if she thought that would win Jill over. “You know you need some fun,” Heather wheedled.
“What I need is for us to win this competition.” She motioned toward the window. “Any idea what’s going on over there? How were they able to take the whole weekend off?”
Heather didn’t answer. She just stared at Jill, silently calling her out on her attempt to change the subject.
But Jill wouldn’t be so easily thwarted. “Don’t you even care about winning?”
“Or course I care,” Heather answered. “But we’re not talking about work right now.”
“Well, we should be.” At Heather’s continued stare, Jill finally conceded. “Fine.” She sighed dramatically. “I’ll go on the date. But you owe me.”
“Sure. I owe you.” She grabbed the level from Jill’s hand. “Now let’s get to it. I have other things I need to get done today.”
“I’m the one who’s been waiting on you,” Jill mumbled. She handed over a pair of gloves. “We’re starting upstairs.”
They had a full crew that morning, with some of the women slapping mud on the drywall in the finished rooms, others tackling the final cutouts where the electricians had run the updated wiring, and two women on scaffolding in the oversized kitchen. Those two were finishing up the new vaulted ceiling. Which left Jill and Heather to get the windows on the upper floor installed.
Trenton had already left to pick up the windows, so there was limited time to get everything prepped.
As they made their way up the temporary risers of the U-shaped stairs, Jill looked out over the newly opened space and noted a handful of items scattered throughout. A couple of Texas Dream Home interns had shown up before the camera crews that morning, carting in tubs, and had distributed advertisers’ products in places where they’d receive good visibility on camera. Something about the out-of-place items left a bad taste in Jill’s mouth. The project was suddenly more about the television show than renovating two old homes.
Len came into the house then, spotted her and Heather, and followed them to the second floor, and thirty minutes later, Trenton pulled into the drive. After calling down for a couple of the women to go out and help, Jill pocketed a handful of shims that would be used for squaring up the windows. But the footsteps that soon made their way up the stairs were too heavy to be anyone working for her. And everyone downstairs had gone silent.
Jill sighed. What now?
She came out of the front room to find Cal single-handedly hauling their largest window, and he had the thing hoisted above his head. As if announcing his masculine prowess for all to see. And of course, every female on the first floor was seeing.
“What are you doing?” Jill crossed her arms over her chest.
“Helping.” Cal grinned.
“We don’t need your help.”
She tossed around a quick glance to check Len’s whereabouts, finding his camera pointing her way. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to think the all-female crew needed the big strong men to carry in the heavy stuff for them, and she certainly didn’t want it recorded for television. So she held out her arms.
“Give it to me,” she said to Cal.
He just laughed. He nodded to the opening in the room behind her. “Is it going in there?”
“I’m serious, Cal. I don’t need your help. Why are you even here?”
He moved her way, not stopping as he neared, and she found herself being backed into the room. Heather hadn’t followed her out, so now it was the three of them in the single room together. Plus Len.
Cal leaned over to set the window at her feet, and as he stood, he covered her
mic with the palm of his hand. “I wanted to see what you know about ghosts,” he murmured.
That was the last thing she’d expected to hear.
She pushed his hand away and covered her mic herself. “Did you say ‘ghosts’?”
Heather perked up. “Have you seen her?” She sucked in a breath and sidled in beside them. “Can I come over and see her?”
When Heather realized Jill was attempting to muffle their conversation by covering her mic, she turned Jill around and hit the “Mute” button. Jill did the same for Heather, then all three of them stepped in closer. Cal’s back faced Len, which blocked the other man from being able to see their mouths as they spoke, and when Len cleared his throat to get their attention, they ignored him.
“I think I’ve heard her,” Cal told them. He kept his voice low.
He pointed to the matching dormer in the other house, and Heather turned with the motion. She poked her head out the window opening. Jill silently watched. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in ghosts. But at the same time, she couldn’t say she did, either.
And she wasn’t sure she wanted to.
“What did you hear?” she finally asked. She suspected this was more a ploy than anything, and she craned her neck, assuming she’d catch Patrick loitering nearby. But there was no Patrick.
“A few random noises,” Cal shared. “Footsteps. Something sliding across the floor a couple of times. Then this morning, some of our tools were moved.”
“I think she was over there last night,” Heather told him.
Cal nodded in agreement. “I do, too. What did you see?”
“Wait.” Jill held up a hand to stop the words. She looked at Heather. “When were you even here to see anything?” They hadn’t worked the day before, either.
“I’d left that phone number here Friday.” Heather motioned to the pocket where Jill had shoved the business card. “I had to stop by and get it so I could set up your—” She cut off her words, as if realizing it was none of Cal’s business that Jill had a date, then she peeked around Cal’s chest to see if Len was listening in. Len had left the room. “It doesn’t matter why I was here,” she told Cal, “but I was. And while I was, the light in that upstairs bedroom was on.”