by Gina Conkle
“There’s not much to tell,” she said quietly. “It’s not even the worst story. More like, like something I want to forget.”
“If it’s your story, I want to hear it.”
Her gaze shot to the gallery’s busy front. What she saw or didn’t see seemed to give her permission because she took his hand and led him to the end of the smaller room. Fewer people roamed. Jennifer pivoted at a window where light beamed off the pane with sharp starry points.
Jennifer was brittle. Her crossed arms were more self-hug than closed off. “It’s not much,” she began. “Art was my way out. Susan helped me, got some of my paintings in the right places. That’s all.”
“Your way out of what?” he asked patiently.
“My growing up, my formative years…whatever you want to call it.”
Their corner was quieter. French tipped fingers drummed her upper arms. A dip into Jennifer’s past was the last thing he expected from tonight, but this was good. He wanted her. All the parts good and bad.
“My sister and I never had much as kids,” she said. “Our parents divorced when we were young. My dad wasn’t around, and my mom never stayed in one place for very long. She was an irresponsible artist, a free spirit who rarely paid her bills.” She stared out the window, her natural warmth and exuberance gone. “I love her. She opened up my artist’s eyes, but my mom never really grew up.”
Jennifer’s admission was time worn. He’d grown up surrounded by love and the constant presence of an intact family. The chasm he’d felt moments ago wasn’t for him. It was for Jennifer. Her safety net.
“I’m sorry.” Two words, so inadequate. They wouldn’t fill the gulf.
Her face tilted his way, impassive. Words weren’t his strong suit. His normal answer would be touch, but instinct told him to wait.
“I mean it,” he said. “I wish you’d grown up with the stability I had. Every kid deserves it.”
“That’s what I wanted,” she murmured. “Stablity.”
“And your late husband gave you that.” It hurt to admit it, but AJ couldn’t hate the guy for providing for Jennifer.
Her brown eyes were deep and soulful. “He did. But it came at a price.”
“Your art.”
She nodded. “And my independence.”
Staring at the back window, she smoothed the bow at her waist. It was a safe bet her mind uncoiled years and mistakes. She was fighting for her future for the woman she would become. It was a prime lesson for him not to steal what lit her up or squash her with his wants and dreams. J
He wanted to protect the light that made Jennifer, Jennifer.
She peered at the cavernous front room. A fresh crowd spilled in off the street. Susan bent her head at the back room, mouthing help.
“Susan’s swamped. I better go help with the newcomers. You’ll be okay?”
“I’m good.”
AJ followed her swishing skirt as she scurried to the front room. He walked the perimeter, taking in the paintings. These were more his speed, real objects and people, images he could understand. He stopped at one painting, an old building on a canal. He liked it. Tried to get the subtext, but he drew a blank. People stood at the water’s edge as if tossing bread crumbs into the water. He read the fine print mounted in acrylic on the wall next to the painting.
“Fifteen hundred bucks.” He snorted.
Quiet footfalls stopped before the same painting beside him. Black loafers with a tassel and a cloud of cologne.
“Don’t you like the way the artist captured the gaiety, the splendor of Venice?” This was from Black Loafers guy next to him.
Gaiety, my ass. AJ kept that to himself.
“I don’t know,” he drawled, studying the painting. “It’s nice but I wouldn’t pay fifteen hundred for it.”
“Perhaps you don’t have fifteen hundred bucks to part with.” A cultured accent delivered the insult with razor sharpness.
AJ’s eyes narrowed. That was a dig. Men did it all the time, trying to elevate themselves in the dog-eat-dog world of male competition. The man must have a sore need to look good at his expense. AJ gave the man a hard once over. Black Loafers stared at the painting, tipping his head this way and that, ignoring AJ. He wore black, of course, the creases on his dress pants knife narrow. His tan polo shirt sported a golf crest on his chest and a soft middle above his belt.
“I’m Richard, a friend of Jennifer’s.”
AJ squeezed his empty cup. He’d make polite conversation and mosey on to the front room.
“And you must be AJ.” Richard jingled coins in his pocket, his smile tight.
“I am.”
“An admirer of art are you?”
“Nope. An admirer of Jennifer.”
Richard went back to staring at the painting. “Yes, Jennifer.” He dragged in a deep breath, squaring shoulders soft as his gut. “She’s quite out of your league. Like this expensive piece.”
“She sure is, but she obviously found something she likes in me.” AJ grinned at Richard’s profile. “Because she’s going home with me.”
Richard’s sphincter had to be on the verge of breaking. He was uptight and full of himself. AJ grudgingly respected the man going to battle for Jennifer, but she’d made her choice. He’d made his choice and Jennifer was it. Crunching his plastic cup all the way, AJ tossed it into a trash can. For Jennifer’s sake, he’d do his best for this to go smoothly. Because of her late husband’s business, she may still have to deal with this guy.
“We can snarl at each other like dogs fighting over a bone, or we can be gentlemen,” he said. “I prefer the latter. For Jennifer’s sake.”
Richard crossed his arms and gave AJ a once over. “A tattoo,” he snorted. “I should have known. A fucking Neanderthal.” His features twisted with a faint sneer. “How’s business?”
“Business is fine.”
“Oh? What about Knight Plumbing?”
The knot between AJ’s shoulder’s blades was back. He was just about to move on. Forget asking how the man knew about Knight Plumbing. Sean’s conversation played in his head…the lawyer who made a call to the senior Mr. Knight. Fuck.
“What about it?” he grated.
“Lost your biggest client hmmmm?” Richard hummed in mock sympathy. “Tough hit for a small business.”
The nasty glint in the man’s eye told AJ all he needed to know. Richard orchestrated the loss of Knight Plumbing. A vein throbbed in AJ’s temple, yet for all the heat under his skin, calmness modulated him.
“You can’t lose gracefully can you? You want to go after a man’s livelihood.”
Richard lost his cool. “Why don’t you go back to whatever hole you crawled out of?”
Other voices in the room stopped talking.
“Let’s keep it civil.” Now it was AJ’s turn to look bored at the Venice painting. “Jennifer can decide the man she wants to be with.”
“Oh, what should we do? Pound our chests and see who’s louder?”
A couple strolling by jerked their heads. The sound of heels clicking fast on the wood floor sounded. Jennifer was coming, her stride tense.
“Please,” she hissed. “I don’t know what’s happening here, but you’re both making a scene.”
“Oh, Jennifer, really.” Richard sniped.
AJ’s hands clenched. “You should apologize to the lady.”
“Why?” Richard snapped.
“You’re being rude.”
“Please, just walk away from this,” she pleaded. “Both of you.”
“Is that what you want?” AJ asked.
“Yes.”
His plans for the night fizzled. He hoped this wasn’t her having second thoughts, but he’d appease her. AJ took a step forward to drop a kiss on her cheek and Richard recoiled, his hands shielding himself. He shook his head at the foo
l. Maybe AJ was marking his territory, but a kiss was natural. He wasn’t giving up on Jennifer.
“I’m leaving.” AJ kissed her cheek and headed out of the gallery.
Walking to his truck felt good. He was man enough to walk away. He’d never be a loafer wearing art lover. The difficulty came in wanting Jennifer in being the man she needed. Sliding the key into the lock, he turned that one over in his mind. Fuck. There was tension in wanting her badly, yet he couldn’t be anyone else than who he was.
“AJ, wait!” Jennifer ran down the sidewalk, her black skirts flying.
Wired from anger, adrenaline and something he couldn’t name, he unlocked his door. Jennifer didn’t wait for him to open the passenger side door. She ran up to him on the street little wisps of hair brushing her cheek.
“Please. I want to go with you.”
He jerked the door open. “Get in.”
She slid across the driver’s seat, and he climbed in after her. Her feet banged the basket on the passenger floor.
“A picnic basket? For tonight?” Jennifer was elegance in a battered truck, her full black skirt spread over his seat —so out of place yet so right.
“Yep.” He was raw, uncertain. Putting the key in the ignition, he couldn’t get out of downtown fast enough.
He maneuvered his truck down busy streets glad Jennifer was content with silence. He was raw. He wanted the gallery to have gone better. He wanted to peel the dress off Jennifer and hear in real time what he’d hoarded on his cell phone. Shit. He wanted a lot of things he couldn’t have. One thing was certain. He’d never dim Jennifer’s happiness. If he wasn’t it…
His chest hurt and he let that thought go.
It wasn’t until they were well on the freeway halfway home that Jennifer spoke up.
“A picnic is a romantic idea.”
“Yep.”
Jennifer’s hand rested on the bench seat, her arm stretched toward him. “Where were you planning the picnic for me?”
“Who else would be it for?”
“It is Saturday night. You might’ve had another bimbo or babe lined up after the gallery,” she teased. “I was worried my art was messing up your love life.”
The knot between his shoulder blades was unwinding. He grinned at the open freeway. “You’re the only one.”
“I’m glad, AJ, because you’re it.” She sat tall, her profile a pretty line beside him. “I know it’s only been four days but you’re all the love life I want.”
The L word. It was a tie binding them. His dad always said he knew after one week he was going to marry his mom, but he had to bide his time, go through the dating motions for another six months before he asked her to marry him. AJ didn’t think he could wait six more days and that scared him. This want was powerful, impatient, needing to be fed.
“I’m sorry about tonight,” she said. “I called Richard Friday morning and told him I was seeing someone else.”
“You did?” His smile split ear to ear. She had no idea how happy that made him. He’d find a way to show her.
“Yes. I made it very clear I wasn’t interested in him. This time I knew my message sunk in because he got upset. I thought he wouldn’t go to the opening.”
“He’s old news. Don’t worry about it,” he said, exiting the freeway. Her strong no must’ve prompted the uptight lawyer to call in a favor with Joe Knight. It was all making sense.
When he turned his truck on the road to take her home, Jennifer sat up taller.
“Are you taking me home? AJ I don’t want to go home. I want to be with you.” She said talking fast. “I don’t care where we go as long as I’m with you.”
“I figured…” The excuses he was going to make trailed off when he glimpsed the firm set of her mouth.
“Don’t you get it?” Her voice was terse.
Truth was sinking in bigger than anything he could imagine yet lighter than air. Jennifer would go anywhere, any place and be fine. She could sit in a parking lot with him and be happy. It was AJ. He was the part of the equation that mattered to Jennifer…same as she mattered deeply to him. He rubbed his nape, more confused and yet more clear-headed than he’d been for as long as he could remember.
He pulled off the road and took a deep breath. “Do you have any pets?”
“Pets?” she echoed. “No. Why do you ask?”
“Because I’m feeling greedy right now. I’ve been waiting a long time for a girl like you. I want to keep you all to myself for at least twenty-four hours. Now would be the time to tell me if you have anything to take care of.”
Eyes sparkling, her smile lit up his truck. “Some kitchen herbs, but they’ll be okay.”
His heart climbed in his throat. She left him speechless at how she shined with happiness over two puny potted plants.
“The night is young,” he said. “Where do you want to go?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Take me to your house.”
AJ leaned over the steering wheel, his gaze flickering over her gorgeous black dress. They were all dressed with any place to go, and she wanted his house. Skin around AJ’s eyes tightened.
“It’s nothing grand.”
“If you’re there, that’s where I want to be.”
He chuckled softly and turned his truck around. They rode in silence to his house, the windows rolled down. AJ turned into a long, narrow driveway. They were on the outskirts of Hidden Valley, not many other houses around. Pepper Trees lined the asphalt line, the smell sharp like the cardamom spice. Jennifer craned her neck for a better view of his house. It was a small white square, the stucco peeling in places. AJ turned his truck and his headlights beamed on a three car garage, the third door high enough to accommodate an RV. A garage door slowly rolled up.
“The garage looks brand new.”
“It is.”
“And much bigger than your house,” she laughed. “I think I know where you spend all your time.”
He grinned. “Priorities.”
The truck pulled in and Jennifer unclicked her seat belt. Anticipation was killing her. To be with him. To see his home. To kiss AJ and brush against him. It was easy to just be with him. Lust hummed hard and fast between them. She’d not deny that. All the parts of them together made her happy. He made her happy.
AJ killed the engine. He left one hand on the steering while like a man with words to say. His profile was solid like him. He stared straight ahead, the muscles in his jaw working.
“AJ?” She scooted closer on the bench seat.
“There’s something I’ve got to say and better to get this out now than later.” Crystalline blue eyes pierced her. He swallowed hard. “I know I’m falling for you.”
Her inhale was fast and sweet. Euphoria almost lifted her off the seat.
His hand went up, palm out. “Let me finish. I’d rather cut off my left nut than make a mistake with you.”
“Oh, AJ,” she said, stifling a giggle. “You have a way with words.”
“I mean it.” He touched her skirt. The silk faille made seductive whispery sounds. “I don’t want you giving up your art, your independence…your whatever for me.” His voice was forceful. “I don’t want you looking back on your life, feeling like I stole from you.”
“You won’t.” They hinted at forever. “I’m not that woman anymore, and neither are you that kind of man. I feel how much you respect me.”
Maybe it was too scary to admit it aloud. She was fine with that. She wanted this now with AJ. Forever would take care of itself. And how freeing that was.
AJ’s forehead sheened lightly. The night was cool. The windows were down, the garage door was wide open. Crickets sawed notes in open fields beyond his driveway. AJ’s usual stoic brand of confidence sweetly faltered as he declared himself. He was forceful and lost all at the same time. It melted her in all the right p
laces.
She cupped his smooth cheeks with both hands. “AJ. It’s alright. We’ll be good together.”
His hand slipped under her skirt hem. “I know.” His voice was gruff with lust and affection. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”
“No. Girl’s choice. I’m making this call.” She settled back against the door, her head resting at the bottom of the open window. She braced her foot on the dashboard, a shine catching on her black T-strap pump. “We’re starting right here, right now.”
AJ didn’t seem bothered at her bossiness. He kind of liked it judging by the sexy curl of his lips. He stroked her foot from the patent leather covering her toes up the middle strap to the buckle at her ankle.
“Pin up girl shoes.” His leisured stroke inched higher up her calf. “Your skin has a certain glow,” he said softly as if she might break.
“It’s the oil I use.”
He grunted, pushing her skirt over her knee. His eyelids dropped half over smoldering blue eyes. “You’re going to let me rub it on you someday.”
“I will.” She wedged her other leg between AJ and the back of the seat. Her legs were wide open under her skirt. “There’s another place that needs a little oil rub.”
He pushed the skirt up her thigh. His hands skimmed her knee reverently. The worship of her knee tormented her. She was getting wet from AJ’s proximity, the promise of what would happen. She licked her lips and let the tide wash over her. They’d barely begun. No sense in being impatient. She knew where his hand was headed, and she knew what surprise he had in store.
Her breath went a little faster just thinking about it. “AJ?”
“Yeah.” He bent down and kissed the inside of her knee. He got down on his knees on the floor, pushing the picnic basket onto the driver side. He cramped but in no hurry either.
She liked that he wanted to savor this. “How many times did you listen to my message?”
He nosed her skirt up her thigh, laughing against her skin. “Fifty, sixty times…maybe more.”
“Want to record another one?”
Nose deep in her skirt, he froze. AJ pushed up and braced a hand on the seat by her head, smiling from ear to ear. “You are one dirty woman.”