by Jen Doyle
Sure, the fifteenth was the anniversary of Dave’s death. But Jack was here now. She hadn’t arranged it, it just was. Sleeping with him was no different than going forward with the house itself. They both meant the same thing: she was moving on with her life.
Oh, shit, she was moving on.
She stood up and wrapped Dorie into a hug, maybe a little more clingy than usual but still. Turning, she held her arm out for Jules to join them. Lola threw a stern look in Fitz’s direction. “You, too, Hon.”
After a few moments, Fitz rolled her eyes and came forward, too. She laughed as the others pulled her in. “Best. Sisters. Ever.” In this sense, at least, Lola was the luckiest woman alive.
Chapter Sixteen
Walking back into the dining room, Lola stopped short. Was she in the Twilight Zone? The guys, Jack included, were all just sitting there watching basketball. Other than nods and smiles directed her way, Deke was the only one to acknowledge things weren’t all quite what they seemed. He wrapped her into a bear hug the second she came behind the bar. “Jesus, Lo. I’m so sorry. I was totally out of line. I love you so much.” He sounded more choked up than she remembered seeing, well, since Dave died. And it reminded her that Deke was still in mourning, too. Dave had been like a brother to Deke, and, although yes, she’d hurt him if he ever said anything like that again, she understood why he’d lashed out.
“I love you, too,” she said, feeling overwhelmed herself and leaning into him. She kept her eyes down as she pulled away, grabbing her apron and tying it around her waist. A quick scan of her tables showed the other waitresses had clearly covered for her.
“No skin off my back, Hon,” Mary said. “All these nice-looking boys on their best behavior. You keep bringing ’em back, I’ll keep taking care of them.”
Since Mary was in her mid-sixties, and several of the “boys” were the same age as her grandsons, Lola just smiled and gave her a hug, too. Still, it was clear the rest of the staff were concerned, too.
The only person who didn’t seem to notice was Jack. She didn’t particularly expect any special treatment, and it was clear he wasn’t interested in a long, happy life together any more than she was. But when he pushed his plate aside and started to say his goodbyes, she did have to turn her back to make sure her face didn’t betray her disappointment.
When he did finally come up behind her to say goodbye, it was without leaning in and whispering in her ear, and he kept his hands far away from her. It was clear that whatever had happened between him and Deke—and Lola could read a room enough to know that something had happened—meant things were about to come to an end.
Lola was okay with that. She hadn’t really expected anything after the other morning anyway. Still, it was an effort to plaster a smile on her face, especially when he nodded his head toward the hallway. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Lola sighed. “Cover me?” she said to Mary. And then she turned to move past him and walked straight ahead.
“So,” she said when they got to the back hallway. She didn’t think it counted as breaking up when they weren’t together, but she’d never actually been broken up with before so she wasn’t sure. And although she wasn’t willing to make it easier for him, she wasn’t about to make it hard.
“So,” he said. He was nervous. This was going to be worse than Lola had thought.
Well, it wasn’t going to be worse than having Tuck show up in his police uniform the night of the accident, or spending all those long lonely nights when Dave was deployed wondering whether he was still alive.
“Obviously,” Jack said, “we have two very different lives.”
Yep. Lola nodded for him to go on.
“And we both know I am not by any means a catch.”
It kind of depended on how you defined it, but this wasn’t the time to agree or disagree. She clasped her hands behind her back.
“This is probably a really, really bad idea.” He ran his hands through his hair and Lola tried not to think about how cute he was. How cute it was, to have the big, bad Iceman be so nervous because of her. Even if it was because he was about to tell her that he never wanted to see her again.
“But how would you feel about seeing me tonight after you get off?”
“I’m sorry?” That was not what she’d expected him to say.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Not get off. That innuendo was not intentional. I meant after you’re done with your shift.”
Wow. He wasn’t even making double entendre jokes. This was seriously strange. And not how she’d expected this to go.
He started pacing.
“I, uh...” He cleared his throat. “Jules mentioned the babysitter puts your kids to bed and stays over on the nights you work late.”
“She did?” Jules was so much more of a troublemaker than she led anyone to believe.
Jack nodded. “I was thinking maybe I could pick you up and take you to dinner somewhere.”
And now Lola was irritated. Never mind that ten o’clock was too late to have dinner. “Seriously? We’re doing the dating thing?” She may have had her breakdown earlier, but it didn’t change her overall goal. “What part of ‘fuck me against the wall’ did you not understand?” Lola was fairly certain she’d been clear on that.
Jack tensed before straightening up to his full height. Then the Jack she knew was back and in front of her—crowding right up against her, pinning her between him and the wall. This time his grin was natural and easy and entirely carnal—just the way she liked it. “I never said fucking against the wall was off the table. I just thought maybe you’d like to grab a bite first.”
Resisting the impulse to say that she would, actually, like to take a bite out of something first, she set her lips in a grim line. Was this truly what he wanted? Or was it just what he thought she wanted, despite what she’d said? Trying to keep the frustration out of her voice, she said, “I don’t want to go on dates, Jack. I don’t want a boyfriend. I don’t want another thing to add to the list.” She wasn’t pulling punches. Not today.
Although he winced and said, “Ouch, babe. That was harsh,” he didn’t seem overly upset. Especially not as he slid his thigh between her legs, looking entirely as if he were going to eat her up. “I don’t want to go on dates, Lola.” He brought his hand up between them. “And I really don’t want a girlfriend.” Though he seemed utterly calm, she could feel his heart beating as rapidly as hers was. “But I do have a list, and it includes fucking you repeatedly, and not just against the wall.” Then his hand closed over her breast, and he pinched the increasingly sensitive tip, and to her annoyance, she couldn’t hold back her gasp. Right here in the hallway of her family’s restaurant.
“I do, however,” he said, “have higher standards than an unheated, unfinished farmhouse.” Her breath hitched as he rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, twisting just enough for a moan to make its way out of her throat.
“Hey,” she managed to say. “That’s my unheated, unfinished farmhouse you’re talking about. Be careful what you say.”
He smiled but didn’t reply. Unless you counted taking her earlobe between his teeth and giving enough of a tug for her to feel it shoot down to her core.
“Okay.” She needed to work at not being quite so easy. “I suppose that could be added to my list, too.”
“Great.” His voice low and raspy, he didn’t pull back. “So what do you say?”
She let her head fall back against the wall as she closed her eyes. Dorie was right. The date itself didn’t matter. She had no illusions about Jack and she wasn’t looking for a replacement for Dave. But she was a thirty-six-year-old woman who had a whole lot of living left to do. She took a deep breath as she opened her eyes, “Okay.”
In a startlingly gentle way, he brushed her cheek with his thumb as he smile
d. “I’ll be back at ten to pick you up.”
Keeping the wall at her back, she nodded. “It’s not a date.”
“Not a date,” he repeated, bending down and touching his lips to hers, giving the slightest of reminders as to what his mouth was truly capable of. Then he backed away, keeping his eyes on her until he disappeared from sight.
* * *
Considering he left the bar at seven and was back by ten, Jack was pretty impressed with himself. He thought about taking Lola back to his hotel and wining and dining her there, but he had a feeling she’d not only not be impressed by his suite, she’d find it sad and lonely. He didn’t need any reminders of the reality of his life. So instead, he called Chantal. She was the only person he could think of who he could actually have the necessary conversation with, but who he also trusted not to ever tell a soul. It did feel strange to meet her on the side of the road halfway between Inspiration and Des Moines, but it was the only way he could pull together the things he needed, stop by the house and set everything up, and then get back to pick Lola up on time.
When he walked back in he ignored the jolt he felt seeing her, attributing it to satisfaction at the look of surprise in her eyes. Not a date, he reminded himself. Whatever warmth he might be feeling when her surprise turned to a smile was merely because he knew as well as she did what was on the agenda for the night.
Not pushing his luck, he stayed by the hostess stand rather than with Deke, Wash and Fitz over at the bar. He wasn’t an idiot. They may have reached a truce, but it was a very delicate one. Although he did walk a few feet into the dining room to make sure any lingering members of Lola’s fan club knew who she was going home with.
When she came to meet him, zipping up her jacket along the way, her smile went deeper. He only barely checked the impulse to lean down and kiss her, not sure where that had come from. That was the kind of thing you did on a date—once upon a time he’d dated enough to know that. But it almost killed him that he’d been so close to her for so many hours today and hadn’t yet been able to touch her. The moments in the back hallway didn’t count. That had been mere survival.
She put her hands in her pockets as he held the door open for her, and they walked outside. She stopped on the sidewalk. “I was thinking. I should probably just drive myself. I mean, it doesn’t make sense for you to bring me back to my car and then have to go back to the house again.”
Yep. She had absolutely no clue where he spent his nights. He looked down at her. “I don’t sleep at the house, Lola.”
She screwed up her face and it made him want to kiss her on the nose. “You don’t?”
Since they were outside now, he figured it was safe to reach out and touch the strand of hair that had escaped from behind her ear. Twirling it around his finger, he said, “You did notice there’s not a bed there, didn’t you?” Or, at least, there hadn’t been.
She rolled her eyes. “Well, duh. I just figured you had a sleeping bag or something.”
“Okay,” he said, taking another strand and threading it through his fingers. “I know exactly how much of a jerk this makes me sound, but despite my pathetic season I still made twenty-two million and change this year.” Not counting money he had from the various trust funds he’d aged into at eighteen and twenty-five, despite his father trying to take them away. “Under no circumstances can I ever imagine myself in a sleeping bag.”
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. If she said she had one in her car and was willing to lay one out in the back of his truck right now, he’d reconsider his statement entirely. Especially when her eyes went to his mouth and she bit her lip. He tried not to growl.
“Not when you camp?” she asked
“I don’t camp.”
“Do you hunt?” She seemed truly confused.
That made him smile. “Just for the perfect game.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “So then where are you staying?”
“In Des Moines.”
“Des Moines?” This time she was flat-out perplexed. “You drive back and forth from Des Moines every day?” He nodded. “Aren’t you tired?”
He wasn’t about to tell her he woke up every morning and practically jumped out of bed, knowing she’d be one of the first people he saw. “I manage. But I’d really like to be on our way.”
She stood there looking up at him, refusing to budge. “That’s an even better reason why we should take separate cars.”
“No, it isn’t.” And, honestly, he was tired of arguing. “Now do I have to pick you up and carry you or will you walk on your own?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He jammed his hands in his pockets. “Do you really want to test me on this?”
She gave it a moment’s thought.
Smart woman that she was, it took her no time at all to acknowledge he totally would.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
Chapter Seventeen
Who had twenty-two million dollars?
Who earned twenty-two million dollars in a year?
Was that how much Nate made? Lola had never really thought about it beyond knowing he had more money than God. No wonder he was able to just give her a house.
Feeling a bit lightheaded, Lola turned to look out the window as Jack drove them down Main Street and out of town. To have sex. Which was almost as strange as the twenty-two million dollars thing.
“If you have that much money,” she said, “why in God’s name are you doing work on my house?” Not that she thought he’d needed the cash in the first place, but still.
He didn’t answer right away. “Could we go with ‘I just like working with my hands’?”
She turned to glare at him. “I’m being serious.”
With a laugh, he answered, “I meant that literally. Growing up I spent a lot of time with the hel—” He cut off whatever he was about to say and ended up with, “The people who worked for my parents.”
“The help?” Lola leaned back against the side of the car and tried not to gape. “Is that seriously what you were about to say?”
Throwing a quick glance her way, he said, “Didn’t we already talk about this? The whole butler and mechanic thing?”
Right. “And yet.”
When it was clear she wasn’t appeased, he added, “I spent as little time as possible with my parents—sometimes that was their choice, sometimes mine. The people who worked for them were the ones I spent time with when I came home on breaks from school. They taught me most of what I know.”
Lola’s heart broke a little. “That’s—”
“Sad,” he said, rolling his eyes as he took the turn onto the country road that would take them to the farmhouse. “Trust me. If you knew my parents, you’d know it isn’t sad at all.”
That was the part she found sad, but he didn’t seem interested in hearing it. “I still don’t get why you’re helping with my house.”
Even with Chantal and Aaron in the picture, he was doing the grunt work like pulling apart the walls and carting the junk out to the Dumpster in order to fill as much of it as possible before it snowed again. The entire second floor was now down to the studs, and tomorrow he was starting on the attic.
There was another few minutes of silence before he answered, “I think this is Nate’s way of trying to fix me. He still thinks I’m salvageable. I’m not. And just so I don’t get in more trouble with Nate or Deke or any of your watchdogs—” he glanced over at her and grinned “—I’m not looking for you to fix me, either.” He turned back to the road.
“Well, good.” As long as they were both clear on that point.
She settled back against the side of the car, turning to look out at the countryside. The nearly full moon lighting up the fields was one of the most beautiful sights in the world as far as she was concerned. An
d even though this was all a bigger dent in her budget than she’d led Nate to believe, it was worth every penny she was spending. The idea of coming out here every day, having it be her home, brought comfort all the way down to her bones.
She straightened a little as they got closer to the house. She didn’t come out here at night very often, and she hadn’t realized how close the house was to Nate and Dorie’s as the crow flew. That brought her peace, too. She wanted this house more than almost anything, and she’d wanted it for as long as she could remember. But part of the reason she’d never fought Dave on his insistence she live in town was that she wasn’t exactly a fan of the isolation, either. Once she’d found out that Nate’s baseball academy would stretch out across the other ridge—mostly out of sight from the house she’d always considered hers, but close enough for peace of mind—she’d been wholeheartedly on board. It was the best of both worlds. Lots of people around; no one she needed to interact with every day.
“What...?” The house was lit up in a strange sort of way. They’d crested the top of one of the hills and she could just barely see it through the trees. Leaning forward to look out as they crested the top of the second hill, she said, “Are those Christmas lights?” Yes. They totally were. Tiny bright white lights strung across the eaves of the porch. “Where did they come from?”
“I, uh...” He cleared his throat again in a way she was coming to realize meant he was truly nervous. “It’s so dark out here I thought it might be nice to have a little more light.”
Mouth open, she turned to him. She honestly had no clue what to say, other than, “You put Christmas lights on my house? When?” He’d left before she did this morning, and she was pretty sure he’d been with Nate all the way until they came into the bar for dinner.