[2015] Just the Essentials

by Shari L. Tapscott

  Slowly, he moves forward, only stopping when he’s right in front of me. He sets his hands on either side of my head, pressing his palms into the back of the couch.

  Making me meet his eyes, he leans closer. “I’m all yours for the rest of the day.” As if to prove a point, he pulls his phone from its pouch and shuts it off. He holds it out to me as the automated goodbye chimes across the screen before it goes black. “Better?”

  No, but if he were to kiss me, then it would be.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Jack doesn’t move. His eyes trail to my lips. My breath catches, and I tilt my head toward him, waiting, hoping. He moves closer, both of us in a trance.

  His lips almost brush against mine, and the near-sensation sends delicious tingles all through me.

  “I can’t kiss you,” he says.

  With a touch as soft as a whisper, I brush my bottom lip against his. “Why?”

  He wraps his hands in my hair, coaxing me even closer. “You just got out of serious relationship. I refuse to be your rebound.”

  “What do you want to be?” I set my hands on his chest and splay my fingers over his shirt.

  Still teasing me with his lips, he says, “When I do kiss you, I want you to only think of me. I don’t want him there, crowding your thoughts with guilt or regret.” He moves to the very corner of my mouth. “You will be nothing but mine.”

  My heart’s going to leap from my chest. The air practically vibrates between us.

  “But you already kissed me,” I remind him.

  “Think of it as a glimpse of things to come.” With that, he backs up. His eyes are dark with unspent emotion. “Now that we’ve settled that, are you ready to go?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Hudson. Hudson, who? Jack’s turned me into a starstruck, middle school girl suffering from her first major crush.

  I set my laptop aside and stretch. In the four weeks I’ve been here, I’ve almost finished another complete novel. The cabin makes the perfect writer’s hideaway.

  The old lounge chairs on the porch are so splintered and old, I don’t dare sit in them, so I’ve dragged a kitchen chair and a television tray outside to work. It’s too bright in the sun to see my laptop screen, but it’s just right in the shade.

  My hair’s pulled up in a messy knot, and the breeze feels delightful on my neck. I don’t have to worry about looking presentable today because Jack finished up the roof yesterday. There’s nothing left for him to do, and I’ve been moping around, melancholy, all morning.

  Still, that mood makes for great writing.

  I’m just debating finding something for lunch when I hear a familiar truck coming down the road.

  “No!” I exclaim, leaping to my feet.

  What’s he doing here? He told me he was done. See you round, Kinsley—it’s been fun, and all that. I race into the cabin and fly into the bathroom.

  My hair’s a mess, but I ignore it, opting instead to focus on my pale cheeks and almost-blond eyelashes. I’m just swiping glossy lip balm across my lips when he knocks.

  Though I expect him to come in, the door never opens. I scurry toward the front, wishing again I had time to change.

  I swing the door open and drink in his hotness. He’s in cargo shorts made of whatever material it is that hikers seem to like, and his regular T-shirt is stretched across his muscular chest like a warm, friendly hug.

  He’s not dressed for work.

  “Hi.” I try to sound casual. “Why didn’t you just come in?”

  Jack’s eyes sweep over my oversized T-shirt and stretchy black shorts.

  He raises an eyebrow. “You weren’t expecting me, and this—” He points at the door. “Should have been locked.”

  Of course, it wasn’t—because I’d just been on the porch. But he doesn’t need to know the way I flew inside to prepare myself when I heard him coming.

  I cross my arms, trying to look friendly but feeling awkward. I’m not even sure I have a bra on. Did I put one on this morning? Thank goodness this shirt is big. Like, tent big. Like, not-cute-at-all big.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  He leans on the door frame. “I’m taking the holiday weekend off, starting with today.”

  Sure he is. The closest he’s gotten to a day off was when we drove to Grand Junction last week, and he still had work to do that evening—including raccoon removal for the lovely Eliza, whoever she is. I’ve yet to meet her.

  “I believe I owe you a fishing lesson.”

  My heart jumps at the reference to the day we met. Was that last month already? Time flies when you’re mooning over a Greek gladiator handyman and living in a run-down cabin in the woods.

  “Fishing, huh?”

  Even though I would love nothing more than to spend an entire day with Jack, lost in the woods, I’m hesitant. Do I want to share his attention with worms and fish?

  “Come on, city girl.” He grins, his golden hazel eyes bright. “I’ve already packed us a lunch.”

  “That’s very domestic of you. Should I add it to your growing resume?”

  “Spend the day with me.”

  I finally nod. “Let me change first.”

  “What’s wrong with what you have on?”

  What’s wrong? I don’t even know if I’m wearing underwear. Obviously, I don’t tell Jack that. I motion him inside and tell him to make himself comfortable while he waits. Not that I need to. He’s already on the couch, and he’s picked up that novel again.

  “No bending it,” I warn.

  He waves me away with his hand. “I won’t.”

  After making sure he adheres to the book holding etiquette I taught him, I disappear into the back. What does a girl wear to go fishing? We might have to walk through weeds to get to a lake, so I pull on jeans. The baggy shirt goes flying into the corner—I was wearing a bra, after all, and then I slip on a cute, stretchy tank top that I bought on my shopping trip with Ginger and Liv. I haven’t worn it yet but now seems like a good time.

  Since the weather is unpredictable in the mountains, I grab one of Liv’s flannel shirts. I wrinkle my nose at the red plaid but tuck it under my arm despite its awfulness.

  This is also the first chance I’ve had to make use of my new hiking boots. Once I’m properly dressed, I join Jack.

  He glances up from his book. “I’m kind of missing those shorts.”

  My cheeks get warm, and I choose to ignore him.

  True to his word, he hasn’t made any moves on me. And I haven’t on him either. But now I know he wants me as badly as I want him. There’s no doubt about it.

  He flicks on the end table lamp so I won’t have to come back to a dark house and scoots me out the door. “Don’t forget to lock it.”

  I turn, keys in hand. “What’s with you and doors?”

  Laughing, he pulls me toward his truck. “What’s with you and constantly leaving things open?”

  I tilt my head to the sky and let the sun bake my shoulders. I’ll put on sunscreen in a moment, but for now I’m soaking up vitamin D.

  I completely understand fishing now; it has nothing to do with catching a fish. It’s about lazing in a boat on a lake, pretending you don’t have anything better in the world to do than point out shapes in the clouds.

  Of course, my perception could be influenced by the fact that we haven’t caught any fish.

  “Are you getting hungry?” Jack’s just added more bait to his hook, and now he’s digging through the cooler. “I have sandwiches.”

  “No, but what else do you have in there?” I sit up.

  “Soda, the ridiculous bottled waters you’re fond of, iced-tea, and…what’s this?” He grins as he holds up a bottle of bliss.

  I snatch the mocha coffee from him, hold it close, and treasure it. I give him a long look as I open the drink. “You did good.”

  He raises an eyebrow, that smirk growing on his face. “I thought you might like it.”

  “Where did you have to go to fi
nd it?” I take a drink and close my eyes. It’s sugary and fattening and just so wonderful.

  “I had to drive down to Durango the other day. I picked some up at a grocery store.”

  “Have you tried one?” I ask.

  He grimaces. “I don’t drink fussy coffee.”

  I take another sip, a smaller one this time so I can savor it. “You have no idea what you’re missing.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “I do, in fact, have an idea.”

  Like it’s been so prone to do lately, the air thickens between us. I meet his eyes, challenging him. That’s how it is between us. I dare Jack to make his move, and he dares me to wait. It’s excruciating…and delightful.

  The only problem is that it’s already July. I leave next month. How long does he plan on drawing this out?

  Ginger’s words run through my mind. Maybe she’s right; maybe I should make the first move—kiss him like I mean it and see if he pushes me away. Something tells me he wouldn’t.

  I study my pole. I think it twitched. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

  “For the fourth?” he asks. “My parents usually do a barbecue—why don’t you come?”

  Of course he’ll be spending the holiday with his family.

  He eyes me over his pole. “And then later you and I can go to the fireworks in Silverton.”

  I meet his gaze. “Just us?”

  He nods slowly. “Yeah.”

  Finally.

  I’m all warm and tingly, and it doesn’t have a thing to do with the sun. I take another sip of my drink, trying to play casual.

  “Kinsley,” he says, his voice low and insistent. “I think you have a bite.”

  I jump up so quickly, I almost knock over the small aluminum boat. “What do I do?”

  “Just what I showed you. Give it a tug—that’s right. Now reel it in.”

  The motion is a little weird to get a hang of, but once I have it, I get it moving pretty quickly. Then the fish jerks against me.

  “It’s fighting!” I squeal.

  Jack tilts his head back and laughs. “Well, yeah, it’s fighting. It doesn’t want to be caught.”

  I yank back and continue to reel, feeling a little guilty. That fish was swimming around, minding his own business.

  “What do I do now?”

  “Just keep reeling him in.”

  Jack shifts in the boat so he’s sitting next to me. The fish jumps and nearly jerks the pole out of my hands.

  “Don’t lose my pole,” he warns, his voice light. “That’s an unforgivable offense.”

  I continue to reel, and finally I have the fish to the boat.

  “He’s pretty small,” Jack says, holding out the net.

  “Small!” I exclaim. “He fought like Moby Dick.”

  Jack scoops the struggling fish out of the water. Again, I feel guilty.

  The fish flaps around, its greenish-brown scales glinting in the sun.

  Jack works the hook out of the fish’s mouth. “Probably ought to let this one go.”

  “He earned it.”

  I laugh as Jack slips the fish back in the water and it goes swimming off.

  Jack rinses his hands in the lake and then wipes them dry on his shorts.

  He has an amused look on his face. “Careful, Kinsley. Someone might think you’re having fun.”

  I sit back, content to let Jack bait my hook for me. “Maybe I am.”

  The day passes too quickly.

  Jack ends up catching three fish, and I catch two, including the one we set free.

  “Do you have cornmeal?” Jack asks as we pull in front of the cabin.

  It’s well after dark, but we’re both starving, and Jack’s going to teach me how to fry trout. I might have had qualms about catching the fish, but I certainly have no reservations about eating them now.

  We walk up the porch, talking, and then Jack stops abruptly.

  “I thought I left that light on.” He nods toward the window.

  Sure enough, the cabin is dark.

  “The bulb was old.” I dig my keys out of my purse. “It’s amazing it lasted this long. I need to go through and replace them.”

  “You locked the door, right?” he asks.

  “Yes.” I look up at him. “You sure spook easily for a big, strong, mountain man.”

  He shrugs and reaches for the door. The doorknob turns without resistance. I step back.

  I know I locked it; I remember doing it.

  Jack motions me behind him and opens the door. I hear something from inside, and I start to pull him back, but then the lights fly on.

  Several people jump out, yelling, “Surprise!”

  Jack shields me with his body, and I scream.

  My lunatic family members all double over in laughter, and Schnitzel bounds to my feet.

  “What are you doing here?” I demand as I pick up my dog and squeeze him against me. One look at Jack’s shell-shocked face, and I want to laugh too. “Why didn’t you call?”

  Mom comes forward and pulls me into a hug. “We wanted to surprise you! Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

  “It’s your birthday?” Jack asks.

  I pull myself away from Mom. Four sets of curious eyes gawk at Jack.

  “No,” I say. “It’s not my birthday.”

  Liv’s eyes move from Jack to my flannel shirt. “It is in two days.”

  I need to make introductions, as awkward as that is.

  “Jack, this is my family.” I motion to them needlessly, as if there were some other family here.

  Everyone exchanges greetings, and it’s only really uncomfortable.

  “You’re Sandy’s boy,” Mom exclaims, coming forward. “You were just a little guy when I saw you last!”

  Let me die.

  “How are your parents?”

  “Just fine, ma’am.” Jack gives her a big smile, which melts her cotton candy heart.

  She meets my eyes and sends me a big, not-at-all subtle nod of approval.

  It’s too bad Jack fixed the porch. Right now, I would happily sink down with the spiders.

  Ginger, the only one who knows about my feelings for Jack, widens her eyes when she catches my gaze.

  Liv just looks starstruck, mirroring myself when I first met him. Yes, Jack is that good-looking. I’d like to say I’ve become immune to it, but every once in a while it still catches me off guard.

  Then it hits me. Here I am, standing next to my two gorgeous sisters. Ginger eschews confidence, and Liv is as sweet as a storybook princess and just as lovely. In comparison, I’ve always felt a little plain.

  Oh, no.

  Now that they’re here, my date with Jack is ruined. There’s no way they’ll let me spend the holiday by myself.

  Jack turns to me. “I’m going to go now. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “I…I—” I glance at my family.

  “They’re all welcome.” Jack turns to my family. “We’re having a barbecue tomorrow afternoon. Why don’t you come?”

  “We couldn’t intrude like that,” my father says.

  Jack shakes his head with his easy, customer-friendly smile on his face. “No, come. I’m sure my parents would love to catch up.”

  Mom and Dad exchange a glance, and they finally nod.

  “All right,” Mom says. “What can we bring?”

  “I’ll have Mom give you a call in the morning, and you can work it all out,” Jack says.

  My mother beams. “That sounds lovely. It’s very nice to see you again, Jack.”

  At this point, the goodbyes commence, and they are just as awkward as the hellos. I want to escape outside with Jack, but I don’t dare. He steps onto the porch, and I whisper a goodbye of my own.

  In the dim light filtering out from inside, he flashes me a knowing smile that makes me want to swoon right here.

  “Night, Kinsley.” He jogs down the stairs.

  I close the door. The butterflies in my stomach might just carry me away. I’m lost in my own world, but then I
turn.

  No one says anything for the first fifteen seconds; they just watch me, their expressions easy to read. Mom looks overjoyed. Ginger looks impressed. Liv looks smitten. Dad…well, he doesn’t look as sold as the rest of them.

  “Jack seems like a nice boy,” Mom finally says.

  Liv and Ginger glance at each other, mortified by our mother but glad they aren’t privy to her attention at the moment.

  “He is nice.”

  “Jack…isn’t that the name of the handyman I hired?” Dad asks.

  He’s obviously rethinking his decision.

  I nod. “He’s finished, though.”

  “Then what’s he doing here?”

  I glance at Liv for help. Instead, Ginger jumps in.

  “Daddy,” she says. “Kinsley’s actually being social for once. We should encourage it. You know how she usually burrows in her little hole.”

  She smirks at me.

  I roll my eyes. Leave it to Ginger to chase her help with an insult.

  Dad only grunts.

  “We can all talk more in the morning,” Mom says. “Let’s figure out sleeping arrangements for tonight.”

  I fully expect Ginger to oust me out of my bed, but instead she and Liv head up to the loft. Mom and Dad take their old room, and soon the cabin is quiet. I lie in my cozy covers, with Schnitzel at my feet, and stare at my ceiling.

  How would tomorrow have gone if my family had waited just a few more days to show up?

  Chapter Thirteen

  I wake to find my sisters sitting on my bed, staring at me.

  “What are you doing?” I groan and then sit up because I know they won’t leave me alone.

  Ginger shoves a mug of coffee under my nose. “Drink this and get dressed. We’re going for a run.”

  Like always, I do as my older sister tells me.

  The two wait for me in the kitchen. As I walk out of my bedroom, there’s a scream followed by a crash. Down the hall, my rogue chipmunk runs from the kitchen into the living room, closely followed by Schnitzel.

  I chase after them. The rodent races under the couch. Schnitzel crashes into the upholstered frame, nose first, unable to stop himself on the wood floor. The dog darts around the perimeter of the sofa, barking.