“I did.” She held up her hand.
“Good. So, then I assume you have something you want to discuss?” he said, still leaning down to tie his shoes.
“Yes, I do, as a matter of fact.”
Finally, he sat up, scooted his chair forward, and linked his fingers together. “Okay, shoot.”
“Shoot? Look who’s cocky now?”
“Jennifer,” he said in a low growl.
“Trevor,” she reciprocated. When he glared at her, a surprised look on his face, she finally conceded. “Fine. I want to know what the hell we’re doing. Did we agree to go back to normal after the travesty that was yesterday morning?”
“The travesty? Not sure I’d call it that. But I only recall agreeing to go back to being friends at your insistence.”
“Is it even possible for us to go back? I mean … we almost had sex if I’m not mistaken.”
He smirked. “Yes, that had been my goal, and I’m still trying to get over that loss. Is that why you’re here? To pick up where we left off? Because I’m all for it.”
“Nice try. I’m here to remind you, once again, that we’re co-workers. And we should probably figure out a way to make this as unawkward as possible.”
“And by that I assume you mean no sex?”
“TJ, we went over this yesterday.”
“You went over it yesterday. I recall asking you to come home with me.”
She sucked in a deep breath. He was not going to make this easy, was he? “You offered your guest room.”
He grinned. “I’m a stand-up guy, Jen. But we both know that if you’d taken me up on my generous offer, I’d have tried to get you in my bed.”
She sucked in a breath. He was right, she absolutely did know that, and worse, she’d have probably gone willingly. “You’re not making this any easier. We need to decide right now how we’re going to go on from here.”
He groaned, leaned his elbow on his desk, and leveled her with the most intense glare. “Jennifer Mackenzie. Are you willfully choosing to ignore the fact that I spilled my guts to you? Admitted that I’d wanted you for over a decade? Because I clearly remember saying it. Do you really think my feelings have changed—or are capable of changing—in the last twenty-four hours?”
“No. And I do remember you saying those things. I just think … going back to normal is what’s appropriate.”
“Appropriate, or safe?”
“Both, I guess.”
He nodded. “I’ve been doing a lot of listening to what you want. How about I tell you what I want? Then we can negotiate.”
“Negotiate?” She rolled her eyes, but she really hadn’t been expecting that, and she supposed it was only fair, so she gave him a “go on” face with a hand flourish.
“I can tell you’re struggling with this thing between us. So, I suggest that you allow me to take you out.”
She inhaled deeply and then blew it out slowly. Considering.
“You can’t deny I’m right, Jen. There is a thing going on here, and you can sit there and tell yourself otherwise, but you know I’m right. This week it’s become more apparent than ever. But we’ve gone about it all wrong so far. We’re now both single. There is no reason for us not to explore this. I’m suggesting we get back to the basics.”
Ever the businessman, TJ was. Jen sat up tall, still considering this. “Is this … ‘getting back to the basics’ code for ‘let’s just have sex already’?”
TJ leaned back in his chair, clearly exasperated. “Hell, Jen, what do you want from me? I like you. I want to take you out.” He sat up and threw his hands out dramatically. “Do I want to have sex with you? Hell yes. Do I want to take you out even if sex is off the table? Yes, I do.”
He ended that sentiment by slapping his hands down on his desk.
“You’re really getting worked up about this,” she said.
“Because you drive me crazy!” He sighed. “Dealing with you is maddening. But trying to pretend I don’t want you is even more difficult because I do. Damn it. I want you bad.”
They sat in silence a bit, staring at each other. Quite honestly, his outburst had her speechless for a second. Finally, she managed a few words. “Fine. We can go out.”
He sighed, his shoulders sagging in relief. “It’s about time. Why don’t I pick you up at six thirty?”
“You want to go out tonight? On a Monday?”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I just hadn’t considered it. Where are we going?”
“How about you leave something to the imagination, huh? You’ve already given me hell for this. I’ll worry about the details.”
“Whatever.” She got up and headed for the door. Before she stepped out, she looked over her shoulder. “You know there’s a good chance you’ll end up regretting this.”
“Possibly. Guess I’m willing to take the chance.”
Jen shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Twelve
That evening, Jen waited for TJ at the curb, her body primed and ready to give him a dressing down. When she saw his Camaro pull up and park, she headed into the lot. The minute he got out of his car, she was ready.
“Did you pay my water bill?” He hadn’t said a thing about it at work, but she knew it had to be him. A city could do a lot of stupid things, but accidently turning on unpaid utilities was unlikely to be one of them. She’d come home today prepared to get ready for their date down at her mom’s, but out of curiosity she’d tried the faucet, stunned to see water come out.
He sighed, shutting the door. “Hello to you, too. You look beautiful.”
“Answer the question, TJ.”
“Of course I paid it.”
Her shoulders dropped. “What is wrong with you? How can we possibly go out now that you’ve done that?”
Putting his hand on his hips, TJ let his head fall back as if dealing with a petulant child. The exact reason she didn’t want his help—so he wouldn’t have that feeling about her. After taking a deep breath, he brought his head back up and eyed her. “I paid one bill. It was less than a hundred dollars. I would have done it for any person important to me. It was not a power move. It was me doing you a favor. Get over it.”
“Get over it? I told you not to do that. I was very clear.”
“Jen, for God’s sake, you had no water. What the hell did you expect me to do?”
“Respect my wishes.”
“I respect your wishes, but in this case, I respect you as a human more, so I paid your goddamn water bill because I am incapable of sleeping at night if I know you don’t have basic life necessities. Shit, give me a break for once.”
That stopped her immediately. She stared at him, trying to decide if she wanted to hug or punch him, because let’s face it, nobody wanted to have to go to their mother’s place just to use the toilet or the shower. But like most people, Jen also tried her best to avoid humiliation. Good grief, wasn’t it bad enough that he’d been there when she’d discovered her water disconnected?
To add insult to injury, he stood here in her shitty apartment parking lot looking every bit the part of chivalrous savior. He wore high-dollar jeans and an ironed navy button-up, cuffed on his forearms. He’d applied some gel to his hair, and sported a big chunky silver chronograph watch that probably cost ten times what he’d spent on her this morning to have running water.
But that was not a bad thing, right?
He had money. So what? Why not let the guy help her out? It was nothing to him. And yet, Jen knew that help usually required one of two things: strings or trust. Experience had taught her that both were riddled with land mines, so she usually just opted out of help altogether. It was safer that way.
“I’m sorry for freaking out just now,” she said quietly. “And … thank you. But don’t do it again. Okay?” she pleaded.
“I hear you,” he finally said. But she didn’t miss the fact that it wasn’t a concession. He was placating her. “We still doing this tonight?”<
br />
Damn him for looking so earnest. And sexy. She had her pride, yes. But she was also hungry, and he looked good enough to eat. However, the most appealing thing about him right now was the fact that he kept showing up. Taking her shit that he probably didn’t deserve. “Yes. We’re still doing this.”
He visibly relaxed. “Good. Can we take your truck?”
She glanced at his very expensive car as she processed the thought of them getting into her clunker of a vehicle. “Uh, what for?”
“I want to go somewhere specific, where a truck could come in handy.”
“Sure, but you could have just asked to borrow my truck if you needed to buy some furniture or something. It didn’t require a date.”
He chuckled, shaking his head as he held his hand out for her keys. “Hush your mouth. This is our date, and something I want you to do with me.”
Curious, Jen followed him through the parking lot. “You’re awfully brave to leave your fancy car parked here for too long. You know these are not luxury apartments.”
He shrugged. “It’s insured. Besides, it sat out here all Saturday night if you recall.”
Good point. But still, why tempt fate a second time? But if he wasn’t going to worry, she wasn’t either. They got out into her truck, and it suddenly felt way older and nastier than it did the last time she was in it. When he started it up, it made an embarrassing screeching noise.
“Don’t even comment,” she said, tossing a pile of unopened mail behind the seat.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He backed out of the parking lot, and fifteen minutes later they were pulling into Fine Living Nursery and Greenhouse. Jen’s heart began to race with excitement. She’d driven past this place a million times, admiring the trees in the spring, mums and pumpkins in the fall, and even the Christmas trees in the winter. Her limited funds—and her lack of a lovely home to decorate—had always kept her from stopping. Places like this were for grown-up, got-their-shit-together kind of people, and she was far from one of those on her best day. She loved plants, but hers came from Walmart and Home Depot, often from the clearance section, which usually meant they were on their way to the trash bin. Not that she loved them any less because of it. She was no high-class lady either, so she wasn’t one to judge, and often all they’d needed was some loving care. Bringing them back was a pleasure.
But this … shopping at this nursery would be a plant nirvana like she’d never experienced, and she couldn’t wait to get inside. When he’d mentioned liking her plants, she figured he was just being nice.
Her anticipation reached a frenzied state as he found a parking spot and they both got out. After waiting for his second attempt to get her driver’s side door to stay shut, Jen walked over, lifted on the handle, and gave it a hard shove.
Without a word, TJ reached out and grabbed her hand.
“Why are we here?” she asked, trying to pretend she wasn’t freaking out inside. Between the hand-holding and the impending plant overload, Jen’s body was on the brink of cardiac arrest. “Are you buying me a plant to apologize for paying my bill?” she asked excitedly.
He leveled her with a glare. “So, let me get this straight. You would let me buy you something you want, to apologize for buying you something you need?”
She lifted a shoulder. “It’s hard being a man. I get it. Women can be such trouble.”
He laughed, giving her hand a squeeze. “Men would be nothing without women. And I want you to help me pick some plants for my house.”
She struggled to maintain step with him as her head jerked to the side. “Really?” She was slightly embarrassed about the slight shrillness in her excited reply. She knew he didn’t miss it when he grinned over at her.
“Yes, really. I have never had plants, and I while I’m not interested in having a bunch, I liked how they looked in your place. Makes it seem homier.”
“Of course, they do. Good ones can be expensive, you know.”
“I don’t doubt it, but we’ll worry about that when we find something you like.”
Jen bit at her bottom lip trying to process his words. Something you like. He still had a hold of her hand as they entered the front area of the nursery, which held rows and rows of outdoor plants, flowers, and trees.
It was beautiful, and instantly Jen felt at peace being surrounded by such a vibrant display of life and regeneration. Plants soothed her in a way she couldn’t explain, and for some reason being here with TJ wasn’t killing her buzz. In fact, it was nice.
They walked each row, and he paused without question or annoyance every time she stopped to feel the texture of a leaf or read a description.
“Someday I hope I have a yard to fill with any plant I want,” she said, looking at a row of rose bushes. “With a bench. No, a swing. Yes, I’d have a swing and maybe a fire pit. And a fountain. Hell, I just want a yard,” she finally conceded.
“You will,” he said.
“Hmm. Maybe. Says the man who just paid my water bill because I suck.”
“You don’t suck, Jen,” he growled. “And you need to let that go. Everybody hits a rough patch at some point.”
She wasn’t going to mention that her rough patch could be labeled “adulthood.” That it was no longer a patch, but a lifestyle. Her financial immaturity was one of the many things about herself that brought her shame. She was much better now, but years of stupidity had caught up with her and she was struggling to get her footing. Losing her job at the community theater had been a major setback in her efforts.
“I should ask if they’re hiring. I could take care of plants,” she said, thinking out loud.
He angled his body toward her, a concerned look on his face. “Why would you do that? You have a job.”
“I do now. But Tara will come back from maternity leave this fall. Then what? Bartending at weddings won’t cover my living expenses. I might as well start looking for another full-time job. Hell, I’m barely making it as it is, as you now know.”
They’d made their way into the evergreen tree area, and as Jen reached out to touch a cluster of tiny frosted berries on a branch, she was pulled to a stop by TJ still clasping her other hand. She turned. “What’s wrong?”
“We need to talk about this.”
“About what?”
“You, needing a job. I’ll figure something out at the Stag, Jen. I don’t want you worrying about it.”
“Well … that’s been the plan since the beginning. The receptionist job was temporary, that’s not your fault.”
He stepped closer to her, his brow furrowed in frustration. “Maybe not, but you have to know there’s no way I’d just turn you out without enough money to survive on. I know bartending once a week isn’t enough to make it on.”
“TJ, I’m not looking to you to be my savior. I’ve lost jobs before, I’ll figure it out. Besides, what happens at the Stag is not up to just you. Dean and Jake have a say also.”
“They’ll agree with me. I know they will.”
“And what if I don’t want to keep working at the Stag?”
He suddenly looked shocked … and more than a little hurt. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“I don’t know. I guess I stupidly keep thinking I’ll find something in theater where I can act, sing, or teach. That’s my passion. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do, more than anything else. I miss it like crazy.”
“I understand that, Jen. Your talent is … incredible.” He sucked in a breath and then blew it out. “It’s just, I’ve gotten used to seeing you every day. And you’re also good at what you do there. Surely you don’t mean you’d give up your bartending gig also?”
She shook her head. “We didn’t come here to talk about this.” Uncomfortable with the conversation, Jen pulled away. “Let’s find the greenhouse.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and followed her. The minute they entered the massive room full of houseplants, Jen grinned from ear to ear. This was her new happy place. “Isn’t this beautiful?”
<
br /> “It’s overwhelming. And very green,” TJ said. Jen looked over to find his wide eyes roaming over row after row of leaves, from the floor to the ceiling. Hanging baskets, potted plants, even a perfectly styled koi pond in the center.
Jen took off for a nearby cactus display. Walking a little farther she found a row of succulents at least twenty feet long. There were so many varieties, colors, and textures: light, dark, flowering, thorny. TJ was right, but it was “overwhelming” in the best way. It was hard not to want to have them all.
“These are weird,” TJ said behind her, glancing down at various plants. “What do you do with little nubby plants like this?”
Jen gasped in mock horror. “They’re succulents, and very popular right now. And don’t talk negatively about them. You should apologize.”
He glanced down, then up at her, brow furrowed. “Apologize? To the plants?”
“Of course. I talk to mine daily. I’m convinced they respond to the feelings we project onto them. I mean, how well would you grow if someone called you weird?”
He frowned. “I’ve had worse.”
“And it affected you. Didn’t it?” she insisted, charmed by the wary look on his face. When he raised an eyebrow, she doubled down. “Listen, if you’re going to become a plant owner, you’re going to have to learn how to love them. It’s the only way they’ll thrive.”
He hesitated, angled his head, but then nodded slowly, his mouth parted in surprise. After a moment, he squatted down to a pallet sitting on cinder blocks, rested his elbows on his knees, and quietly muttered. “Sorry, plants—I mean, succulents. You are not weird at all. You’re beautiful and rubbery-looking.” He glanced down the aisle to see two women staring. “And I hope you appreciate the fact that I just lost a piece of my dignity in order to make you feel loved.”
* * *
The sexiest laugh escaped Jen’s bright red lips as she watched him straighten from talking to the plants. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
His hand jerked out to grab her, but she yelped and skittered away. Wobbling as he stood upright, TJ took off after her. It only took two swift, long strides for him to catch up and get ahold of her, yanking her back against his chest. She was still laughing when he leaned down into her neck and inhaled her scent. “I hope you enjoyed that, Jennifer.”
Maybe This Time_A Whiskey and Weddings Novel Page 13