by Sylvie Kaye
Eric yawned, flinging a few doilies onto the floor and settling his head onto one plush arm of the sofa while propping his feet onto the other.
While Jilly read and reread, he nodded off. Soon, the hum of the air-conditioner lulled her. She couldn't possibly be tired with all the sleep she'd gotten last night, thanks to the julep.
Those poor Southern belles. No wonder they lolled on the verandah, servants waiting on them hand and foot. If they sipped juleps all day, they needed all the help they could get.
With a sigh, she recalled how Zack had helped her into the car and to the front door. Earlier, before they were interrupted by the family with the wailing baby, she was certain he would kiss her.
Zack and fantasies of the near miss kiss wiped all facts and numbers from her mind. She imagined the feel of his lips, the heat of his mouth, the touch of his tongue on hers.
Steamy images of his large, strong hands holding her bottom while they made love standing in the parking area caused her breathing to speed up. His hands massaging her butt, making her hot and achy before he plunged into her.
She inhaled a sharp breath, and let it out in time with Eric's snore. He was slack-jawed. She closed the accounting book, hoping to shut Zack out, too. This was a good time to take a break and change her clothes. And an even better one to take a cold shower.
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Chapter Ten
The red flowers on the balcony drooped in the hot sun. But Zack had plenty of spring. He took the steps to Jilly's place two at a time. He was anxious to see how she'd fared after yesterday's outing.
Instead of ringing the bell, he rapped on the door on the off chance she might be in the parlor studying. If luck were his, the nosey aunts might be elsewhere in the house.
He knocked again and the doorknob clicked. His “Hi” froze in his throat.
A man stood in the door, a young, virile-looking man who ran his fingers through sleep-ruffled blond hair while yawning as if he'd been awakened.
Zack wasn't happy. The longer he looked, the unhappier he got. The man wasn't wearing shoes, and his shirt hung open, twisted at the waist.
Blinking sleep from his eyes, he said, “Hi,” easily. He didn't choke it down as Zack had done.
"Is Jilly here?” Zack asked stonily.
"She's...” The man looked around the rumpled room and the sofa behind him. “She's changing."
Changing into something more comfortable was the last thing Zack cared to hear.
"Is Aunt Gloria in?"
"Aunt?” the younger man asked. “Are you a relative?"
"No. Just let me speak to her."
"I can't. She's not in. None of the aunts are. Can I take a message?"
Great, Jilly and this guy were here alone.
"When will she be in?” Zack was losing patience.
"After six, I imagine."
After six. The two of them were going to be alone here for several more hours. From the looks of him they'd been here too long already. A vein in Zack's neck throbbed.
He didn't know what to do. Should he argue with Jilly and toss some accusations around? Did he even have the right? Should he punch out the younger, mustached fella standing in front of him half-dressed to defend the lady's honor?
He clenched his fists at his sides. Jilly's business was her own. What was Zack to her anyway? He was the carpenter and someone she'd showed the sights to yesterday.
"I'll drop round tomorrow.” He turned on his heel and barreled down the steps to put distance between him and his disappointment.
The man called after him. “I'm Eric. I'll give Jilly and her Aunt Gloria your message."
Without looking back, Zack hopped into his truck and squealed the tires down the block.
Several hours later, Bob caught up with him at one of the bars near the hotel. “Thought that was your pickup parked cockeyed in the lot.” Bob hopped onto the red-padded barstool next to Zack. “Big Al called about the lighting fixtures. Said you were getting as unreliable as Stan. I told him I'd give you the message."
"The fixtures arrived in one piece. I tried hunting down his pal to get a final okay before we start installing.” Zack raised a hand, helplessly. “When I dropped off his car, he wasn't around. Doesn't answer his phone either."
"I told Big Al as much. Just thought you ought to know his latest beef."
Zack nodded.
"Surprised to see you here. You don't usually drink before sundown.” Bob waved to the bartender. “Miller here."
"Every man makes his exceptions."
"And what are yours?” As soon as the bartender popped the bottle cap, Bob chugged a draught from the long-necked bottle.
Zack had just the right amount of beer in him to open up to his cousin. “I stopped in to see Jilly. She had company.” His lips snarled around the last word.
"Male company.” Bob gave a nod.
Zack slugged back the last of his beer. It tasted warm and smelled yeasty. He'd thought of moving on to another bar, but why bother?
"What she say?” Bob asked.
"Didn't talk to her. She was busy getting dressed.” Zack watched in the smoky mirror behind the displayed liquor bottles for Bob's reaction.
Bob squinted his eye. “You jealous or annoyed you didn't grab her first?"
"Both. Neither. I don't know. That's what I'm here trying to figure out."
"Why don't you go back to the hotel and sleep on it.” Bob slapped him on the back.
"It's too early for bed."
Bob slipped from the stool. “Let's get some air."
Zack went along with him. Between the smoke and smell of stale beer, the bar wasn't a place for clear thinking anyway. They jostled along with the crowd on Bourbon Street and drank a few go-cups while browsing the XXX shop windows.
Blues and jazz blared out onto the streets from the clubs and several XXX propositions blasted their way.
When Zack called it a night, Bob stayed on to pursue a buxom beauty who'd traded too many peeks at her bosomy assets for too many purple, green, and gold beads.
"Chivalry calls.” Bob backtracked down Bourbon Street.
Zack thought of a few words for what called to Bob. Chivalry wasn't one of them.
When he reached the parking lot, he eyed his pickup. The bumper nudged the brick wall of the building at an odd angle. He'd been angry when he'd pulled in. He'd mellowed since. Tomorrow morning when he was sober and seeing straight he'd come back for the truck. He walked the rest of the way back to his hotel.
Sleep didn't straighten things out. A dream about Jilly threw him a few curves.
"Do me or lose me, big guy,” she tempted, wearing her pearls, only this shimmering strand was long enough to hold between her pearly teeth. Red lipstick slashed her open mouth while her blue eyes simmered, dark and glassy. A musky, sexy scent clung to her. She wore a black dare-to-unlace-me corset, like the one he'd seen in the window of one of the adult shops on Bourbon Street earlier in the night. Black garters with red, seductive satin bows rested on her open, creamy thighs daring him to unsnap them.
He woke hot and sweaty and hard. Wrapping his mind around tomorrow's work schedule instead of his erection, he managed to fall back to sleep.
But before dawn, Jilly invaded his dreams again. This time, she looked the perfect lady, right down to her lily white-gloved hands, which she held over the front of her white ruffled blouse. “My heart can be yours,” she said through pink, glossy lips. She smelled of vanilla and pink roses. Satin ribbons gathered her blonde hair into a shiny halo.
When he awoke, he knew he had to see her and talk to her. How else was he going to find out what she was to him, employer, acquaintance, friend, or lover-to-be?
He whisked Bob through breakfast, barely listening to how he'd redefined chivalry for the buxom babe last night.
"Ever thought about the more serious side of life?” Zack asked him after paying the bill.
"That's what Alaska's about. This is my last fling before a s
obering future.” Bob grabbed a toothpick from the metallic holder and sucked it between his teeth. “I still plan to give those aunts of Jilly's a shot though.” Bob clapped him on the shoulder, and Zack chuckled, not bothering to explain.
Zack hustled through the morning on the job site. After lunch and several calls from Big Al, he kept himself busy hammering down floorboards until quitting time.
He dashed back to his hotel room for a fast shower before he sped over to Jilly's place. He had to get her alone, away from her aunts, and find out who Eric was to her. Then he'd figure out the rest. Where Jilly fit into his future, if anywhere.
From the street below, he noticed the red flowers on the balcony appeared perky in the hazy evening heat. Someone must have watered them. Jilly.
He pounded up the steps, and Aunt Gloria let him in on the first ring. He glanced around, but there was no Jilly in sight. “How's Jilly?” He tried to sound casual.
"She's fine.” But her chilly tone had a no-thanks-to-you edge to it. “Will you be starting on the kitchen today?"
He jiggled his toolbox. “That's my intention.” One of them, anyway.
"Adele will be thrilled.” She directed him into the kitchen.
Wearing a green-checked apron, Aunt Adele stirred a simmering pot. A vanilla aroma wafted in the room, but Jilly was nowhere to be seen.
"Smells good enough to eat,” he teased.
"Yes it does.” No laugh, just a cold, polite tone.
Zack removed two cabinet doors, hauled them into the pantry, spread a drop cloth, and sanded them by hand. He became absorbed, almost like a meditation with the wood. For a while he forgot about Jilly and his troubled mind.
"Dinner,” Aunt Adele announced, interrupting his peace.
Zack washed up in the frilly powder room and joined the ladies in the dining room. Jilly's chair was empty. The aunts jabbered as he ate his pasta, which he was sure was delicious but was tasteless in his mouth.
Where in the heck was Jilly?
"Did they fill in Cousin Neville's grave before the downpour? Rain falling in an open grave foretells bad luck for the family,” Aunt Vinny said right before Zack butted in.
"Where's Jilly?” he blurted out.
"Hrrmp. We were speaking of graves, and I assure you she's not in one, Zachary.” Aunt Gloria's bronze bird ornaments dive-bombed. “Mrs. Muller, who lives downstairs, her son is a policeman. I can promise you there's no foul play anywhere in our neighborhood."
"I didn't mean to insinuate...I asked at the wrong time.” Zack put his fork down and gave up on the food and the evening.
Aunt Adele giggled. “Jilly Boo is in class taking her exam."
Zack nodded. At least she wasn't with that Eric fella again. To smooth over the awkwardness, he asked, “I've wondered, what is a boo?"
Aunt Adele giggled again. She was pretty merry all of a sudden. Zack figured that it wasn't due to the kitchen refurbishing, she'd only cheered up since she'd finished preparing dessert.
"Boo is a Cajun endearment we use for our children,” Aunt Adele explained. “My sister's child is like a granddaughter.” She smiled adoringly.
"You're lucky ladies to have her."
They were, too. Jilly took wonderful care of her aunts. She saw to their needs, and cheerfully. No place in the city was too far for her run. No care or concern of theirs too small for her to ignore.
If she put that kind of commitment into a relationship with a man, she'd make some guy more than lucky, more than happy. He scratched his ear to tune out the thought of Jilly with some lucky man.
"Earache?” Aunt Vinny crinkled her gray eyebrows at him.
"Kind of,” he said. “More like an itch."
"Is it your left or right ear?” Aunt Adele flashed a giddy grin. Zack wondered how much of the dessert sauce she'd tippled while stirring and tasting.
"Right ear,” he said.
Maybe left. Maybe both. However many ears it took to turn a deaf ear to Jilly's good points, especially the ones she shared with Eric yesterday afternoon.
"If the right ear itches someone is thinking well of you.” Aunt Vinny's words wiped the smile right off Aunt Adele's face. “Aunt Emma—"
"Is wrong, sister,” Aunt Gloria snapped. “If the right ear itches someone is thinking ill of you."
Aunt Adele's grin was back.
"I recall now,” Aunt Vinny said. “Mama says left for love and right for spite."
They all smiled agreeably.
Zack got the message. The ladies hadn't forgiven him for bringing Jilly home looking like a Mardi Gras leftover. He'd meant to bring flowers or candy as a peace offering. Maybe both.
He would tomorrow. His right ear started to itch again, but the aunts looked too eager. He refused to scratch. He was innocent. He hadn't deliberately gotten Jilly drunk.
After dinner and no dessert, Aunt Adele had apparently consumed it all, Zack went back to work on the cabinets while she cleaned up the dishes. She hummed the whole time and ignored him. When she finished loading the dishwasher, she went to join her sisters elsewhere in the house.
Zack lingered over the cabinet doors as long as possible. He glued, clamped, drilled, and nailed. By then the yellow apple clock on the kitchen wall struck quarter-to-ten. He figured the old gals needed their beauty rest so he collected his tools and gave up.
"I was hoping to talk to Jilly,” he said when Aunt Gloria showed him to the door.
"Eric drove her to school and to meet a good friend of his. I'll tell her you asked after her."
"Thanks.” He'd barely gotten the word out when she closed the door and the lock clicked, bringing up doubts that she'd mention his name to Jilly.
So the aunts knew about Eric and approved. Jilly was meeting the guy's best friend. The whole situation sounded serious. Yet, Jilly had seemed interested in Zack during his visits to the house and during their afternoon together.
He wasn't that off base when it came to reading women's signals. Then again, maybe he was. He'd misread his ex-girlfriend like a scrambled word puzzle.
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Chapter Eleven
Jilly's test was a Mississippi breeze due to Eric's tutoring. In high spirits, she wanted to bolt out the door but curbed her enthusiasm. The first fellow to leave didn't have such restraint. His blueberry bright hair bobbed as he flung the door hard enough to shiver its frosted pane.
Except for the McLimericks, a retired husband and wife team who'd taken the class to aid in their estate planning, all of Jilly's classmates were younger than her. Head-shaved, body tattooed and pierced younger.
Jilly sighed, glad for semester break and the small window of freedom it provided. Zack popped to mind. She was free to do things with him. Hot, nasty things. Things his intense eyes promised, and she ached for in her lonely bed in the dark.
As she exited the building, a horn blasted from Eric's BMW. He'd dropped her off and insisted on picking her up to hear how her exam went.
When she hopped into his car, he drawled in his Mississippi accent, “Well?"
"I did great, thanks to your help.” She flashed him a grateful grin.
With an exuberant slap of his hand, he tooted the horn. “We'll have to turn our dinner plans into a celebration."
"You choose. I'll treat.” She snuggled her butt into the plush leather seat.
"Come on, Jilly, I'm new in town. I only know of one restaurant, the one my roommate owns and his shift is over. If I took you when he wasn't there to greet you personally, he'd pout. Suggest a place.” He smiled over at her with what ought to have been a heart-quickening smile.
But he didn't take her breath away like Zack did. She wondered how Zack was managing alone with her aunts tonight. Poor man, sometimes the ladies were a trial.
Jilly hadn't seen him since Saturday. She hoped she hadn't spouted too much drivel when the mint julep took control of her mouth. She probably owed him an apology.
She glanced at Eric, who hadn't pulled out of the lot yet. “Wh
ere to?” He revved the engine.
"There's a pizza place nearby that I heard is a favorite with the university crowd."
"Point the way.” He grinned and his mustache twitched. He was such a cutie.
"Isn't your friend joining us?” she asked once they were on their way and he hadn't placed a cell call to his pal.
"My friend, Ken, is also my aforementioned roommate. He cancelled. Long story."
She gave him directions and they soon spotted the yellow-and-white striped facade of the restaurant. After Eric parked the Beemer, they were shown to an outside table. What a night. Pizza and stars. She wished Zack were here to share it. Somehow, though, knowing he was at home with her aunts made her feel carefree.
She and Eric pored over the wide range of choices on the menu. “Chicken, potatoes, tomatoes, and green onions. There's everything on this pizza but a tax audit.” He pointed on her menu and their fingers touched.
Nothing. No charge of electricity. No excitement.
His touch wasn't in the least bit like Zack's. Zack stopped her clock. She didn't especially care for the sensation of being in a time warp, a too relaxing, mind-altering one like Zack managed to create whenever they touched, but his stimulating eyes more than made up for it. They excited parts of her body that had been dormant since preschool was invented, and she planned on pursuing the pulsating feeling as soon as she set sight on him again.
Eric's finger moved on. She guessed there was no spark for him either.
They agreed on a gorgonzola and pine nut pizza and salads with house dressing. They both ordered soft drinks.
"Too bad your friend couldn't make it.” Jilly sipped her cola. “I would've liked to meet him."
"Actually, Ken's shy."
She jabbed at the ice in her glass with the straw. “I can't imagine a friend of yours being shy. You have a way of putting people at ease."
"Ken and I met last year when I was visiting Hannah Sweets and he needed an auditor.” The green specks in Eric's eyes twinkled.
Jilly laughed. “You do tease your Aunt Hannah so. But she's flattered. I can tell."