Never Try To Explain

by Donna McDonald

  “Wow,” Jellica said, setting down her coffee. “This might be hard to believe, but I simply don’t care that much about Martin. When he discovered I didn’t have any family money coming to me after my parents died, Martin left me and the kids to start his life over with someone new. Honestly? I’d just as soon forget he exists. Most days I do.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t lose sleep over Martin popping up at your work tonight like he did. He was probably just thrown off balance by you hiring Greg.”

  “But I didn’t hire him. What I told Martin—or think I told him—was the truth,” Jellica insisted. “I met Greg on a date, but we’re just friends…”

  “A date through that damn agency he uses, no doubt,” Eleanor said bitterly.

  “Mom,” Brittany said, her tone a warning.

  “I don’t care, Brittany. That’s not how romance is supposed to work,” Eleanor insisted.

  “Will you get off that soapbox?” Brittany demanded.

  Jellica looked from mother to daughter. “Actually, it works for some people. My friend Georgia met her future husband, Brent, through the agency. They worked out great. My other two friends met some nice guys through The Perfect Date, but their true love ended up being someone they’d met outside of the agency. I was only obligated to go on one date. As far as I’m concerned, Greg was it and now I’m done.”

  “Well, you met Greg through The Perfect Date, so that’s proof it’s worked out for you as well,” Brittany reasoned.

  “Yes, but we’re just friends. Greg’s a good guy who deserves to find his perfect woman. I could see that in the first few minutes I spent with him even though he was being pushy and rude to me.”

  “That was my brother being nervous about his feelings. Greg’s a peach most of the time,” Brittany said. “But don't underestimate him. He’s like our Dad when he makes up his mind and look out sister…”

  “Why are you telling her Greg’s faults? You were just chastising me for saying too much. Do you even hear yourself, Brittany?” Eleanor lifted a hand in defeat.

  Brittany giggled into her coffee over her mother’s grumpiness.

  Jellica sighed and shook her head. “Greg wasn’t in the group who found me by browsing The Perfect Date’s database. My friend Ann went out with him and said he was a nice guy. I wanted to make friends with a smart, nice guy, and Greg seemed like a good choice. I asked Dr. Livingston—my dating advisor—to see if Greg wanted to go out with me. But I swear Greg and I only had one actual date.”

  “Well, he talks about you constantly. That must have been some date,” Brittany commented.

  “Not really,” Jellica said with a shrug. “I thought he was boring and stuffy.”

  “God, it’s those stupid sweater vests,” Eleanor said in deep frustration. “His father always wore them. Now I can’t get Greg out of them. Ever since he turned forty, Greg seems determined to morph into his father.”

  For some reason, that thought made Jellica laugh. “Greg’s father wore sweater vests? That explains so much about why he has a love-hate relationship with them. I had to rescue one the night of our date. He took his vest off at the table and asked the waiter to get rid of it.”

  Eleanor nodded, unsurprised. “And the net of his poor fashion choices is people can’t help but think the same thing about him that they did about Greg’s father.”

  Jellica’s wicked side kicked in. “What’s that? That Greg is more handsome wearing sweatpants while he’s doing Tai Chi in my backyard?” Her comment made Eleanor laugh which pleased her. She owed the woman for her timely rescue from Martin.

  “Angelica Quartz, I’d really love it if you’d come to brunch some Sunday. Bring your sons and that new man friend you’re not dating—if you can tear him away from his search for treasure. I knew that metal detector was a bad gift for a too-serious fifteen-year-old, but no, Gregory just had to have one. Now he wears sweater vests and women think he’s boring. It’s all my fault. I should have bought him martial arts lessons way back then.”

  “It’s not your fault Greg is boring to women, Mom. Trust me. I tried to fix him up without success. It’s Greg’s fault that women only want to be his friends,” Brittany said bitterly, quote marking in the air between the three of them.

  Jellica giggled because what else could she do? This whole evening had turned out far too surreal to take seriously.

  She let herself into her home and followed the sound of rustling papers. She heard the murmur of male voices in the dining room. Noah burst out and practically ran her over in his haste.

  “Noah, slow down in the house. How many times do I have to tell you?”

  “Sorry, Mom.” He grabbed her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Homework’s done—even the math. I’m headed to get a shower and watch a little TV before I turn in.”

  “Good. Have you eaten?”

  “Yeah. Greg cooked spaghetti. We saved some for you.”

  “Greg cooked?”

  “Don’t worry. Eric loaded the dishwasher afterward. The kitchen is spotless. There’s a plate for you in the microwave.”

  Jellica felt the breeze as Noah jogged to the stairs and started up them taking two at a time. She shook her head and proceeded to the dining room. Greg was looking over the papers in Eric’s hands and pointing to a pile. They were talking about business dissolutions and their accumulated interest bearing something or the other. Just as it had six years ago, that kind of talk all sounded like Greek to her ears.

  “Hi honey, I’m home,” Jellica joked.

  Greg lifted his head, took in her yoga clothes, and smiled. “Good,” he said.

  Eric left Greg’s side and came over to her. “Mom, you look beat. Why were you out so late?”

  “Two of my students kept me after class,” Jellica said giving the brief answer, not able to share what happened with her curious son yet.

  Eric patted her face. “Okay… well, don’t forget to eat. There’s a plate in the microwave. Kitchen’s clean.” He looked over his shoulder at Greg. “Tomorrow evening I’m working. I can help again the day after.”

  Greg nodded. “Help is appreciated anytime. Thanks, Eric.”

  “I’ll help until it’s done. I love my mother,” he said sincerely, putting his arms around her and kissing her cheek. “And I forgot to tell you Noah’s upstairs already. Dork boy had to have help with his math, but he did get it done.”

  “I know. I saw him when I got here. He almost ran me down in the hall,” Jellica said.

  “Figures,” Eric said as he walked from the room.

  And then it was down to her and Greg… alone once more.

  “So…” Jellica said, looking around. “How’s it going?”

  “Slow and messy. Sorry, your dining room is a wreck,” Greg replied.

  Jellica snorted. “It turns out that a messy house is the least of my concerns. My ex showed up before my class tonight.”

  The papers in Greg’s hands slipped back into the box. “Damn it. Was it to serve the formal severance from the law firm? I was going to give the original to you last night, but you had that headache and I had to leave. He could have simply mailed you a backup copy. I know damn well he has your address.”

  “A formal severance of services… yes, that’s what my new lawyer said it was.” Jellica inched closer. She peered into the box. It was half empty. At least the sorting was going pretty fast. Nearby, there were two boxes of discarded papers. She really didn’t care. Was that bad of her?

  “Wait… I just got what you said. What did you do? Hire a lawyer from your yoga class?”

  “Not exactly,” Jellica said, studying the neat piles on the table before looking back at him. “It was more like she overheard Martin making some odd threat to me about how I’d better not be thinking of suing him. She literally came to my rescue and kept things from getting any uglier than they always do when I have to deal with him. Funny thing… she’d come to class to spy on me anyway. I’m still trying to figure out what the universe is try
ing to tell me by all these bizarre coincidences.”

  Greg blinked hard. “And I feel like you’re about to tell me something horrific that I’m probably not going to like hearing.”

  “I am. Ask me my lawyer’s name,” Jellica ordered, peering up at him through lowered lashes. Her eyes crinkled at the genuine alarm in his. She kept her gaze slightly lowered.

  Chuckling, Greg rubbed his nose. “No. I’m afraid to ask.”

  “Chicken,” Jellica accused.

  Greg nodded. “Yep. I am about this. And I’m not ashamed.”

  “My new lawyer’s name is Eleanor Skyler,” Jellica said quickly to get it over for both of them.

  Greg closed his eyes. “God, I’m going to kill him. Mason told Brittany and Brittany told Mom. No, I’m going to staple Mason’s lips together next time I see him. My best friend has a big mouth.”

  Jellica grinned and then laughed softly. “Your mother made Martin turn around and run. It was impossible to be mad at her for butting in after that. I’m not upset with her and I don’t think you should be either.”

  Greg tilted his head to study her calmness. “That’s very magnanimous of you… considering you got stalked by the only two women who profess to love me.”

  Jellica snorted. “How does your best friend put up with your nosy sister? She must be as good in bed as she brags about being.” Greg looked a little uncomfortable over her teasing about his sister, but he was going to have to get used to her ‘other side’—the one she reserved for real friends.

  Finally, he cleared his throat. “Alright, Brittany gets her lips stapled too. She and Mason can suffer together. That should put a damper on their kinky bedroom antics and all the bragging they both tend to do about it.”

  They stared at each other for a minute. When Greg’s face flushed over his own comments, Jellica dropped her head and chuckled at his embarrassment. God, they were a pair.

  Greg cleared his throat again. “Look, I’m very sorry my mother and sister showed up to spy on you. They seem to think I’m twenty-seven instead of forty-seven. Believe me, you’re not the first woman they’ve done this to in order to find out who I was seeing. I hadn’t told them about you. I just kept saying I was busy helping a friend.”

  “I had that feeling—that their involvement was normal for them at least—but I just want to know one thing,” Jellica said, lowering her voice.

  “Okay. What?” Greg asked around the knot of tension in his throat that was choking him.

  “How much trouble are you going to be in if I don’t accept Eleanor’s invitation to brunch?”

  “My mother asked you to brunch?”

  Jellica nodded. “She told me to bring my sons… and my new male friend.”

  Greg closed his eyes again. “I swear I said nothing to the females in my family. I did not enlist them in any campaign to win you over. I keep telling them I can do my own wooing. They just never listen.”

  “Good to know,” Jellica said. “Now open your eyes and bend down here.”

  Worried about what she intended to do, Greg still did as she asked.

  Jellica stretched up and kissed one cheek. “That’s for your Mom’s timely intervention. Just like her son, she stepped in to help me because it seemed to her like the right thing to do. I can see why you turned out to be such a nice guy.”

  She kissed the other cheek. “That’s for cooking dinner tonight. Eric and Noah would have eaten a box of cereal each and called it dinner if you hadn’t. I’m not used to having help, but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the time you took to feed them. I’m going to owe you some favors in return. As you know, I believe in reciprocating.”

  Then she bracketed his face with both hands. She stared into his stunned gaze and took a moment to enjoy the roughness of Greg’s evening beard under her fingers before she pressed her lips against his. His cologne-scented, surprised kiss back was sweet on top and raw heat underneath. No doubt about it. This man wanted her.

  Hiding out in her room seemed stupid now. She was a braver woman than that. She’d faced down her ex today and not turned into a puddle of nerves for once. True, she’d been paralyzed by his ridiculous accusations before Eleanor stepped in, but before that she’d stood her ground when once she would have run.

  More than the prompting from her friends, seeing Martin again had been a good reminder to not let her previous life affect the life she was currently living. She’d earned this craziness, this man kissing her so carefully, even if his kissing came with nosy Skyler females.

  She would flow with this particular change and see where it went. It would be worth the risk to her just to get to explore the fine male body she suspected the good guy in her arms kept hidden away under his very serious and dull accountant clothes.

  “Wow. That last one was a real kiss—and a great one, I might add. Can I ask why you did it?” Greg asked, his voice still rough from the aftershocks.

  “Maybe I just wanted to know what it was like to kiss a genuinely good guy.” Jellica dropped her hands and spun away. “Now I need to go eat before I fall over. It’s been a long, long—very long day.”

  “So was it good for you?” Greg asked, forcing the words out through lips that were still vibrating. “Kissing a good guy, I mean.”

  Jellica stopped in the doorway and nodded. “It was definitely something I’d be interested in doing again. I’m even wondering what it would be like if he kissed me back just because he wanted to kiss me. You have no idea how strange that feels to say out loud because I honestly did just want us to be friends. Now I’m lusting for you. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Uh…” Greg’s mind shut down… or at least the part governing speech did.

  She left a stunned Greg staring after her, but that was to be expected after she’d poleaxed him with her honesty. People were depending on her to show up and do the jobs she’d promised tomorrow. Her appetite for him was simply going to have to wait… at least until Friday.

  Jellica walked back to the doorway. “Want to grab a hot dog in the park Friday night? The boys are away on a school field trip this weekend. They leave Friday and return Sunday.”

  “Uh… sure,” Greg said.

  “Okay. Great,” Jellica said with a smile. “It’s a date. Dress casually.”

  “In other words, don’t wear a sweater vest?” Greg asked, a wry grin twisting his mouth.

  “See? I knew you were a smart man,” Jellica said she walked away giggling.

  Chapter Twelve

  Fran walked into the office Friday afternoon just in time to hear her very tired boss using language she’d never heard him use in all their years together.

  “Why Mr. Skyler, I’d pretend to be shocked, but I’m too curious about what has you dropping the “F” bomb. You might want to swear more softly though. Brandon’s still here. He’s been mumbling about getting warmer. Sometimes his obsessiveness worries me, but then I remember you dancing in the halls when you’re getting close to finding something.”

  Greg lifted a hand at his assistant’s teasing. “Sorry about the language. I’m just frustrated. This is not about work.”

  “Oooo… a mystery. Sounds fun.” Fran sat in the client chair and put her hands in her lap. “Tell me about it.”

  Greg stared at her for a moment. The concern in her gaze had him caving. He chalked it up to his mother’s training. “When a woman asks you to dress casually for a date, is she talking about exercise clothes or denim or what? I’ve looked online and casual can mean about a thousand things when you’re talking fashion. And why at forty-seven am I worried about this? I’m a smart guy. I really am. I can pick out clothes.”

  Fran laughed at his complaining, then covered her mouth when she got glared at for her lack of sympathy. “Right. Not funny. How old are you again?” She pursed her lips. “What’s she wearing on your date?”

  “No idea. With her, it could be anything from a borrowed evening gown to yoga shorts. I can tell you the woman would look fantastic in a toga,
but I can’t tell you how I know that,” Greg said.

  “Okay. Before you drift off into fantasy land, where are you two going for your date?” Fran asked.

  “To the park to eat a hot dog.”

  Fran tried to stifle her laughter, but his flat, grumpy delivery was too funny. “Oh, my. We need serious help. We better call in an expert.” She jumped up from the chair and stuck her head out of the office. “Brandon? Can you come to Greg’s office for a minute?”

  “Francis…” Greg groaned. “Do we have to involve the kid?”

  Fran chuckled and nodded. “He’ll know the answer. Brandon’s nearly as smart as you.”

  “Ha. Ha. Brandon wears sweater vests.”

  “This is not about cashmere sweater vests and you know it,” Fran said, laughing again.

  Brandon came into the office. “What’s wrong?”

  Fran put a hand on his arm. “It’s Greg. He has an important date and doesn’t know what to wear. You always look so sharp that I thought you might be able to help him.”

  Greg shrugged at the strange assessing look Brandon gave him, but figured what the heck? Fran hadn’t exactly been helpful. “We’re going to the park. She mentioned buying me a hot dog. Since she confiscated my sweater vest from our first date, I can’t afford to get this wrong.”

  “Jeans definitely. Comfortable walking shoes that aren’t sneakers. Wear your shirt out over the jeans. Make it a fitted one like that blue-striped one you wore yesterday. She’s wanting to get a better look at you. Women do that… or so Jivika tells me.”

  “How about khakis instead of jeans?”

  “If it’s all you got,” Brandon answered with a shrug. “You’re worse than my father. Women love to see a man in jeans—something about them accentuating the whole package.”