Maybe This Time_A Whiskey and Weddings Novel

by Nicole McLaughlin

  “I’m not shutting you out. We still work together. We’re friends. But maybe that should be all.” And she’d repeat that to herself a thousand times tonight as she lay in bed thinking about what could have happened.

  He glanced down at her fingers again, one of his thumbs rubbing absentmindedly over the back of her hand. “For now. If that’s what you want. But we’re not done here, Jen. And what about your car?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll worry about that.”

  “Jen, just let me take you to it.”

  “I got it, TJ. Please. I really need some time to think.”

  Finally, he stood up and grabbed his shirt off the floor. She watched, second-guessing herself, as he covered up his beautiful body. After he collected all of his personal items off her nightstand, she followed him out to her front door. After how she’d just rejected him, she might never again see TJ Laughlin in her space. With his hand on the doorknob, he turned to her. “Why don’t you stay the night with me? You can have the guest bedroom. At least until we can get your water turned on?”

  “No, TJ. I’m fine.”

  “Jen, you can’t live with no water. The toilet won’t even flush.”

  “I know how it works. Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time in my life I’ve been without running water.”

  His winced. “Please, Jen. Just until Monday when they can turn it back on.”

  She shook her head. His words were reminder of how removed from her reality he was, that he hadn’t even considered that she still wouldn’t have the money on Monday. “Thank you. But no. Despite what my mother says, I’m not waiting for anyone to take care of me.”

  He stared down at her for a long minute, then finally, he nodded and left. And although that had been exactly what she’d asked him to do, she went into her bedroom, inhaled the scent of him on her pillow, and cried.

  Eleven

  Restless, frustrated, and for once in his life feeling grateful that he had a kind mother, TJ picked up the phone and called her. It was something he tried to do once a week, because although he was mostly convinced he had little worry over what his parents thought about his success in life, he still had a ridiculous fear of being labeled the “uncaring child.”

  His two siblings still spent a lot more time with the family then he did, and while he wasn’t envious of them for that, he was a little bitter about being considered the “outcast”—as if it was a choice he’d made. At least when he called his mom once a week, his father would know he put in a little effort.

  His mother answered with her customary, “Hello, sweetie.”

  “Hey, Mom. How are you?”

  “I’m good. Just sitting here watching your dad clean June bugs out of the pool. You’d think he enjoyed it or something.”

  TJ could picture the scene perfectly. His mother was lounging in a long flowy and loud printed cover-up, cocktail in hand. His father was walking around the edge of the pool pretending to listen to her ramble on about whatever drama was going on with the neighborhood, while really just thinking about anything else. Probably planning to leave the house at some point that evening. TJ had no clue what went on in his dad’s head most of the time, and he preferred to keep it that way.

  “He just has to stay busy,” TJ said. His father didn’t like to be still, especially around his wife. God forbid they’re forced to have a real conversation. He also didn’t like to be faithful, but his mother had apparently let that ship sail long ago.

  “Hey, we went to a get-together last night at the Coopers’, and they were serving your new bourbon. Your father made sure everyone there knew his son made it.”

  That was a surprise. But also typical that he would make sure everyone else heard his false pride, just not his son. “That’s nice. Hope everyone enjoyed it.”

  “Of course they did. It makes a fantastic mint julep.”

  “It does, yes. I’m glad you think so.”

  They chatted about nonsense for a few more minutes. What was going on with his sister and her family, and of course with his brother and his wife. Then his mother went on about the latest medical issue she was concerned with. This time it was a mole she needed to have looked at. Next, she chatted about what some of her friends’ kids were up to, as if he cared. He pretended to. It wasn’t long until TJ had about as much as he could take.

  “Well, Mom. I’d better go.”

  “Okay, hon. I hope you haven’t forgotten about our anniversary party. I know it’s weeks away, but be sure to let that sweet Brooke know she’s invited.”

  TJ’s least favorite day of the year. The day his parents invited over all their rich friends to celebrate their sham of a marriage. They did it every year without fail.

  “Actually, Mom, Brooke and I broke up.”

  There was an awkward pause before she finally responded. “What? Why in the world would you break up with her?” He liked how she assumed it was his fault. Then again, technically, it was. But they’d only dated for a short time. His mother had only met Brooke by accident on one of their dates when they’d seen her out to dinner with a friend of hers.

  “It just wasn’t working, Mom. No big deal. But I still plan on being there.” Not going would imply he wasn’t part of the “team.” It was tempting, but so far he’d never had the nerve.

  “You know Seth will give you a hard time for showing up single again,” she said. TJ could hear the jingle of ice in her glass as she took another drink. She would be passed out within the hour.

  “Yeah, you’d think by the age of thirty-four my brother would have moved past giving me shit.”

  “Oh, TJ. Lighten up. He just teases you. And you can hardly blame him. You’re thirty-one. It’s time to settle down.”

  Oh, he could blame his brother for a lot of things. Bullying him through childhood, humiliating him in high school. Basically, being a complete dickhead TJ’s entire life. But no, more than anything he blamed his parents for never giving a shit. Ever. Even worse, sometimes he’d felt like not only did they not care, but they thought it was funny, which encouraged Seth even more. Stupidly, TJ almost didn’t even blame his brother anymore. He was just as much a product of their upbringing as TJ was, even if he hadn’t realized it yet.

  “You’re right, Mom. I’ll keep that in mind.” It did no good to argue. “I’ll talk to you next Sunday then.”

  “Sounds good, sweetie.”

  They disconnected, and TJ dropped his phone on the bed and headed for the master bath. It wasn’t unusual for him to have a post-phone-call hangover after talking to his mother, but after his morning with Jen, he was feeling especially messed up and confused.

  TJ had a lot to be grateful for. By all standards, he’d lived an ideal life. He knew that, and didn’t take it for granted. His parents—for all their faults—had paid for whatever college his scholarships hadn’t, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t worked his ass off. Through high school and college, he’d worked multiple jobs in addition to maintaining a 4.0, mainly out of fear that his father would hold it against him if he let his grades slip. Both of his siblings had gotten scholarships, and TJ would be damned if he gave them another reason to see him as the black sheep. A role he’d never understood. He’d been successful in college, earned a degree in business and finance. By the time he turned twenty-two, he’d purchased and renovated two small rental properties.

  And still his father never seemed impressed by his youngest son.

  These days TJ owned and managed five residential rental properties in addition to his job as a co-owner and operator of the Stag. He had a lot going for him, and yet on most days he felt like it wasn’t enough. But after what he’d just gone through this morning with Jen, a heavy dose of guilt was setting in. He really had absolutely no reason to feel slighted. Not by life, by circumstance, or even by his parents. By most accounts he was one lucky SOB, and clearly that was how Jen had always seen him. No, it didn’t paint the whole picture, but was it right of him to complain or feel sorry for himself? />
  The words he’d spoken to Evan in that gym had come so easily because they’d been true. None of their parents would have been okay with them dating a girl like Jen. She’d worn odd clothes and too much makeup, and at the time her mother had been a waitress at Flaming Ray’s, a place his parents considered a dive that catered to truckers and trash. He knew how wrong and stereotypical that was, but it was his reality at that time.

  And he had been desperate to keep her and Evan from going to that dance together. Jen would have only ended up hurt, either from Evan himself or his parents, or possibly even from the snobby girls they’d hung around with. Of course, the biggest reason had been his own jealousy. He didn’t want anyone to be with Jen but him, and yet not even he’d had the guts to make a move. His parents—and his siblings—would have been relentless.

  So, shit. Maybe her point was valid, even if he didn’t want to admit it. His judgment of her had been a factor in everything. He’d wanted her, but part of him had always been frustrated that he wanted her.

  Not anymore.

  He knew better now. As a man, he only wanted to be there for her. He knew she and her mother hadn’t been well off. Knew that her father hadn’t been around. But in the past twenty-four hours he had earned a fresh new perspective on Jennifer Mackenzie. The entire thing left him pissed and feeling helpless.

  Jen was proud as hell. Always had been. But damn, the thought of her at home with no running water made him feel crazed. If it was a weekday he’d have already been to the city utilities office and paid the balance, to hell with her pride.

  Problem was, as much as he wanted to fix her situation, he also couldn’t help wondering how she’d allowed things to get so bad. Were there other bills unpaid? There was no doubt that if he inquired, she would freak out. Trying to fix anything for her would be the final nail in the coffin of any chance that something might ever happen between them. Of that, he was certain.

  He stepped into the shower and let the hot water beat on his back. Thoughts of her made him imagine her in bed this morning, so warm and sweet. Those few moments of kissing her back and neck were some of the best—and most peaceful—of his adult life. The feel of her pressed against him, the way her arm had locked around his neck, pulling him close. He’d wanted her more than ever, felt so close to finally having her. Just imagining it was enough to make him hard.

  How many times had he fantasized about bringing her home? Taking her on a trip? Buying her things? And that was before he knew how much she really needed help. When she’d announced the community theater she’d worked for shut down due to a lack of funding a month or so ago, he’d looked into buying it. But as well as he did for himself, he’d quickly realized it was out of the question. It would have required moving it out of the city building, paying salaries, and more. But he’d considered it, for her.

  His obsession with Jen Mackenzie was years and years old. There was just something about Jen that he craved like a drug. Now he knew it was partly because he saw some of himself in Jen. That brokenness he’d seen on her face had felt like a glance into a corner of his own soul. Their wounds weren’t the same, but pain was pain, and rejection was rejection.

  Grabbing a towel, he stepped out of the shower.

  He could tell himself he wouldn’t, but TJ knew himself well enough. Tomorrow morning he’d be downtown at the Maple Springs City Hall the minute it opened. She could scream and yell at him if she wanted, but there was no way he could live knowing she was struggling. Maybe she needed to know that someone was willing to take care of her. Him.

  * * *

  Monday mornings were always the worst, but after her insane weekend, Jen was exhausted. After TJ left Sunday morning, she’d walked to the Stag to get her car. Not ideal, but it had only taken fifteen minutes. Having no water that whole day had been annoying, but the worst part had been running up and down to use the nasty restroom in the basement laundry facility. When it came time to shower this morning, she’d had little choice but to go to her mother’s and ignore her snide comments about her irresponsibility. Then the woman had the audacity to try and pry info about dating TJ out of her. As if Jen was going to engage in fun girl talk after the way her mom had been acting. Never mind the fact that him saying they were dating was a lie.

  After stopping at the hospital this morning to have her stitches removed—which had been much easier than she’d feared—Jen walked into the Stag. Things felt different today, yet familiar. Like her first few days working there all over again. The thought of seeing TJ made her feel queasy. She was torn between wishing the past week hadn’t ever happened and excited about this new open attraction between them. But the whole thing left her feeling uncertain, an emotion she was not particularly fond of. Was it too much to hope that he’d taken a personal day? Not possible. The man was a workaholic.

  Since the building wasn’t open to the public until ten, she locked the door behind her and went straight to the front desk. After locking her purse in the bottom drawer, she got to work checking the main info email. Three wedding reception inquiries. Good, something to keep her busy, checking dates and responding. The first two were out of luck, so she responded with the customary “Sorry your date is already taken, but good luck” email. The third date they had available, which meant she followed up with a phone call. That procedure was one she’d just implemented, and she already knew it was one of the reasons bookings were up.

  TJ had been right, she did listen to brides, and she enjoyed doing so. It wasn’t just an empty sales tactic. Hearing about their weddings made her smile. She liked to ask questions, get a feel for their vision, and then offer tips on vendors and shops that would help them achieve their goal.

  She called the number on the email in front of her and, once again, booked within twenty minutes of chatting with the bride-to-be. A little later she sent an electronic contract for her to sign, and then charged her credit card the thousand-dollar down payment to rent the Stag for her reception for the following October. If only everything in Jen’s life could be so easy.

  As she clicked open another email, Jen realized she wasn’t alone in the front room. She turned to see Jake and TJ talking—no, cracking up—near the office hallway. They were both wearing shorts and T-shirts and were also drenched from head to toe. What had they been doing? And what the hell was so funny? Must be nice that he wasn’t feeling nervous about seeing her today.

  TJ said something quietly, chuckled again, his eyes cutting to Jen for a moment. Then without saying a word to her, he headed for his office and Jake did the same.

  Seriously?

  She’d been battling the butterflies in her stomach at seeing him again after their intense emotional interlude on Saturday, and the jackass didn’t even have the decency to acknowledge her presence? She sat at her desk fuming for a minute. How dare he spend the night in her bed, lick her neck, witness her complete humiliation, and then have the balls to ignore her the next work day.

  Screw that.

  Getting up from her desk, she strode through the main room and right up to his office door, which he’d shut. Too damn bad. She turned the knob and pushed in only to find him at the side of his desk, shirtless and staring at her wide eyed, hands in the process of undoing his fly.

  “Oh—” Flustered, she turned to walk back out.

  “Stay where you are,” he said. Jen froze, suddenly annoyed all over again. “Come in and shut the door.”

  She backstepped into the room far enough that she could close the door without turning to face him. “Normal people lock their office doors when they’re getting naked,” she bit out.

  “Normal people also knock before bursting into closed rooms.”

  “I’m turning around,” she warned.

  “That’s your prerogative, but you may see more than you’re ready for.”

  She heard his wet pants hit the floor. “Fine. I’ll wait. What were you guys doing to get all wet?”

  “Washing the Stag Wagon in the alley.”

&
nbsp; Ah. Now that made sense. They’d purchased the RV a while back for Jake to take on a marketing tour. It had been renovated inside and the outside repainted. Jen didn’t even want to know what might go on in the thing while Jake was trekking across country to concerts and festivals, passing out booze to beautiful women. All she knew was that on its return it would need a deep cleaning. With bleach.

  “When does Jake leave?… And are you dressed yet? Good grief.”

  “For the most part,” he said. Jen turned around to find him in jeans and nothing else. Gosh darn him. There was that beautifully perfect torso once again. The ideal amount of chest hair, which narrowed and trailed down to hide beneath the denim. “And Jake leaves Wednesday.”

  Jen took a step further into the small office and sat down in the chair in front of his desk. “You realize he’s going to sleep his way across the Midwest in that RV.”

  “Possibly. But I know Jake, and he won’t embarrass us. He’ll be discrete.”

  “Think what you will,” Jen said in her best smart-ass, melodic tone. He ignored her comment, but of all people, TJ should know Jake better than that.

  She watched him pull a T-shirt over his head and then sit down in his desk chair and began to pull on dry socks. She wondered what his feet looked like, so she tilted forward and looked under the desk.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  She sat back up. “Looking at your feet.” They were nice feet. Slim and long, and not too hairy.

  He shook his head, a grin on his face. “If you’d have turned around a few minutes ago it would have saved you the trouble.”

  She scoffed. “That is not why I was looking. And you know that’s an old wives’ tale. There is no correlation between a man’s dick size and how big his feet are.”

  “Think what you will,” he said in a sassy high voice that was so clearly meant to imitate her, she nearly laughed. Instead, she sucked both her lips in.

  She waited quietly while he put on a pair of athletic shoes that looked like they cost a week’s pay for her. “Did you get your stitches out?”