by Cheri Allan
“Good riddance,” Grace muttered.
“It’s for the best,” Rachel agreed.
“Who’s Justine?” Kate asked.
“Jim’s ex,” Rachel said, sotto voce.
“I’m right here, Rach.”
Kate glanced toward him. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about,” he insisted.
“You’re better off without her,” Rachel assured him.
“Didn’t have much choice,” Grace murmured.
“Had you been together long?” Kate asked.
Jim sipped his tea. Toyed with his straw. “Two years.”
“She reunited with her husband over Valentine’s Day,” Rachel informed Kate in a healthy whisper. “Jim was devastated.”
“I wasn’t devastated,” he asserted, still toying with his straw.
“She was married?” Kate asked.
Jim winced.
“They were separated,” Doug interjected.
“He was a jerk,” Grace added. She looked around the table. “I mean her husband! A friend of mine worked for him once. He was always leaving the office at the drop of a hat leaving everyone else to pick up the slack. Totally self-absorbed.”
Jim rubbed his temple as if fighting off a headache.
“Why would she go back with him if he was such a jerk?” Rachel wondered aloud.
Jim dropped his spoon into his bowl with a clatter. “Maybe she loved him. Who the hell knows? I’m done talking about it. Anyone else done?”
Rachel pursed her lips and nodded. “We’re done.”
Jim shoved another spoonful of dessert into his mouth with considerably less enthusiasm than before.
A married woman? It settled oddly in Kate’s gut to think about Jim with anyone, much less a married woman. Not that she had any claim to him. Not after yesterday morning’s speech. But didn’t this prove how wrong any further involvement would be? She obviously didn’t know a thing about him. Crud, she’d chosen toilet paper with greater care.
Though she didn’t blame him for not wanting to talk about it. Who would want to have their failed relationships paraded around for discussion? Families meant well, but sometimes they didn’t get it.
Besides, knowing his track record in the love department was no better than hers was perversely satisfying. She had been beginning to feel as if he was too good to be true. Poor guy.
She set a tentative hand on his arm. He glanced up.
“I’m sorry,” she mouthed.
He shook his head. “It’s in the past. Over. Enough said.” She let her hand slip away as he stood up. “You know, I hate to break up the party, but I’ve got some stuff to take care of this afternoon before the lumberyard closes. If anyone wants the rest of my ice cream... I think I’ll head out.”
Grace reached forward. “I’ll take it!”
“Jim,” Rachel pleaded, “we didn’t mean—”
He shook his head as he fished some bills out of his wallet for the tab. “Don’t, Rach. I’m fine. Just done.” He started to leave then turned back again. “Kate? Eight-thirty still okay with you? Fireworks start at nine.”
She watched him, wondering whether any of this was a good idea, figured it probably wasn’t, then nodded anyway. “Eight-thirty is fine.”
“THEY HAD BALLOONS! AND AMINALS! And trucks!” Liam said excitedly as he zipped around the cottage’s living room, his dark hair plastered with sweat to his forehead. “An’ I gots ice cream with splinkles!”
Kate narrowly avoided getting knocked over by the whirling dervish that resembled her son and dumped the contents of Jim’s cap onto the kitchen counter. Nana unwrapped a chocolate chew and popped it in her mouth.
“Can I have one, too?” asked Liam.
Kate shooed him away. “You’ve had enough sugar to last you a few more hours. Go run around while I get things cleaned up.”
She pulled out a heat-softened candy from Jim’s hat and snuck it into the trash. “This chocolate will be impossible to clean out.”
“It’s on the inside,” Nana said breezily, “I wouldn’t worry about it.
“I know, but Jim was nice enough to collect it and not just let Liam stuff his face with whatever he could fit in it.” Kate eyed her grandmother. “I thought you were only going for ice cream. How did Liam end up with twelve candy wrappers in his pocket?”
Nana snitched another candy and shrugged. “I told him not to overdo.”
“Right. Like a three year-old is going to exhibit self-control. Nana. Admit it. You’re hopelessly indulgent with him.”
“I’m the only great-grandparent he’s got. Lord knows I won’t be here forever. He ought to enjoy me while he has me.”
Kate ran a sponge under the faucet. “You’re lucky he didn’t throw up on your shoes.”
“Like when Randy was supposedly watching him on Easter?”
Too true. And Kate would have been left to clean up—again. Randy had always treated her like his personal hazmat team. Whatever mess he made, he expected her to swoop in and clean it up. Mend fences. Wipe her brush of vanilla paint over all his garish mistakes and make them right again.
The problem was, somewhere along the line, she’d taken that same vanilla brush and run right over herself.
Kate stopped scrubbing Jim’s cap and looked at the blur of brown on the inside rim. Deliberately squeezing out the sponge, she set the hopelessly stained cap on the dish drainer to dry.
She wasn’t going to make herself Jim’s hazmat crew.
She wasn’t going to be that Kate ever again.
“Don’t eat too much candy. I’m going to see if I can settle Liam for his nap.”
AFTER NANA LEFT AND LIAM WAS settled, Kate took a quick, cooling shower, then logged onto the Internet. She checked her e-mail, shot off a couple quick answers to questions posed by other calendar candidates and laughed when she saw Jeff Dayton’s photo. She’d have to tactfully suggest he have someone take a shot that was a tad less... intimidating.
Her chat window popped up.
Jim: Hey! Long time no chat.
Kate paused, her pulse leaping, then typed a reply.
Liz: Busy. Busy. So many men, so little time... :)
Jim: Something tells me you can handle it.
Liz: Oh, yeah. I’m a regular Liz-of-all-trades.
Jim: Nothing wrong with an independent woman.
Liz: And here I thought men liked saving damsels in distress.
Jim: Only in the movies. In real life? Not so much so.
Liz: You mean I’ve been marketing myself wrong all these years?Just kidding. What’s up?
Jim: Wondering if you had a chance to look at the photos I sent you?
Liz: Not yet. Sorry. I wasn’t kidding about the other men in my life. LOL
Jim: You’re involved with other men? I’m shocked. And here I thought I was the only one... I’m leaning toward the first one, the one where I’ve got one foot on the sawhorse. You?
Liz: Okay, looking at photos now...
Kate opened up the photos and looked at each.
Liz: I like that one, too. Nice smile. I’m also partial to the one with you in the lake.
Jim: Which one?
Liz: The second. The one where your hand is on the dock. I like your expression.
Jim: I’m still wearing a T-shirt. You sure the bare-chested one isn’t better?
Kate looked at the photos. The bare-chested one made her drool. Then she thought of other women drooling over Jim. Ex-girlfriends. Potential girlfriends. Not that she had any hold on him, but the idea made her stomach queasy.
Liz: Leave a little something to the imagination. The second one is good.
Jim: My ego will pretend it’s not bruised. Okay, one vote for T-shirt by dock. You sure it’s better than the sawhorse one?
Liz: I like them both, and the sawhorse one definitely has your profession coming into play, which I like, but...
Jim: But?
Liz: The lake one looks more relaxed. It’s not so
cocky looking, just—can I say this?—naturally good-looking.
And sexy as hell, she thought, but at least she had the presence of mind not to type that.
Jim: Okay. I’ll let you say that.
Liz: Sorry. Not trying to be untoward!
Jim: No offense. Soothes my bruised ego.
Liz: Would hate to inflict damage to your ego. Can I also say you’re awfully chatty for a guy and you type fast, too?
The seconds ticked by. Kate bit her lip. It felt somewhat surreal flirting with Jim this way. At least ‘Liz’ got to be friends with him. After the ways things had gone at Lucky’s, she knew friendship would be much more complicated in real life.
Jim: Like you said once. I need to get out more. As for the typing, no girls in school thought I was cute enough to type my papers for me. Plenty of practice.
Liz: Nice try, but I don’t believe that for a minute. I’ve seen your pictures.
Jim: I’ll take that as a compliment. And may I say, whomever you are, you’re easy to talk to. (And surprisingly well-versed in modern technology for a gal in her 70’s.)
Liz: I’m not nearly that old!
Jim: So why are you doing this calendar thing?
Because I was guilted into it by your grandmother, and I’d rather do this than contemplate my apparent lack of passion and purpose? Right. Like she’d tell him that. Kate’s fingers fidgeted on the keyboard. What would Liz Bennet say?
Liz: I like balls?
Kate stared in horror at the screen. ACK! I like balls?? Where was the delete key??
Liz: I mean DANCING balls!
She stared at the screen again. Oh God! Could this get any worse? What must he be thinking?
Liz: Like Liz Bennet? You know, THOSE kind of dancing… dances? Oh, just shoot me now!
Jim: When I’m done laughing.
July 4
Mr. Darcy. Is there a woman on earth who wouldn’t throw herself at this man’s shoes? And yet, what do we really know about him? Okay, yes, he’s good-looking and noble and unbelievably rich, but forgive me for saying, he’s also a bit of a starched shirt. Give me laughter and fireworks over stiff nobility any day of the week.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
____________________
“LIAM, PLEASE. IT’LL BE FUN!”
“No wanna go!” Kate watched with dismay as Liam balled his little hands into fists by his sides and jutted out his bottom lip. Jim would be by any minute to pick them up, and Liam was throwing a first-rate tantrum. “No go!” he reiterated, as if she didn’t already get the idea.
“Why not? We saw the fireworks last year. Remember when we went with Nana and Mrs. Pemborly?”
“No go!” he cried again, his little lip wavering now.
Kate sat back on her heels and blew out an exasperated breath. Just what she needed. She’d spent Liam’s entire nap selecting just the right outfit, had washed and restyled her hair, then applied fresh toenail polish—candy pink this time. The last thing she’d expected was for Liam to object, for crying out loud.
“Liam—” she began, but the knock on the door cut into what she’d planned to say. “Look. Jim is here to take us to the show. He’ll be disappointed if we don’t go.”
“No go!” Liam grunted at her back as she opened the door.
“Hi.” Jim greeted her with an easy smile and a wave for Liam. “Ready?”
Kate pressed her lips together. “We may not be going after all.”
“Why not?” Jim stepped into the room and glanced around for the cause of the problem.
“Liam doesn’t want to go.”
“How come, Bud?”
“Don’t wanna,” came the gruff reply.
Jim knelt in front of Liam. “Have you ever seen the fireworks?” Liam nodded. “Did you not like them?” Jim asked softly.
“Too loud,” Liam whispered back, his dark eyes troubled.
“Ah,” Jim nodded sagely. “That’s because you’re young and have sensitive hearing. Rock and roll will fix that in time. You like the way the fireworks light up the sky, though, right?”
Liam nodded again.
“Fine. No problem. How about I loan you my hearing protectors, just for tonight?” At Liam’s frown, Jim chuckled. “They go over your ears so noises don’t sound so loud. Big boys wear them for when we use power tools.”
“Like chainsaws?”
“Exactly.”
“All right!” Liam whooped as he raced for the door. “I get to chain saw!”
Jim glanced at Kate in surprise.
“It’s okay,” she laughed as she collected the cardigan she’d chosen in case it got cool, “we can explain it to him on the way there.”
They rode in relative silence, Liam chattering periodically about chain saws and big boy tools. Kate was content to watch the passing scenery with an occasional furtive glance at Jim’s profile.
She hid a smile as she remembered the steamy looks Jim had given her over his ice cream this afternoon at Lucky’s, the shivers of awareness coursing through her at each innocent contact.
And then, the pickup brought her back to the present as it thumped across the field by the high school.
“They set the fireworks off over the river,” Jim informed her. “The riverbank is a great place to view them, but it can get a little rowdy down there with the teenagers. Probably better for Liam if we watch from here.”
Kate nodded. A handful of cars and pickups were already scattered over the field as people arrived for the show. The sound of crickets chirping and children running and laughing in the twilight lent a festive air to the evening. She slid out of the cab.
“We’re not meeting your family?” She glanced around, surprised not to see a familiar face.
“Oh. They’ll be here. Here and there. I didn’t know you were hoping to see—”
“Oh. No. I just thought we might—”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
Jim cleared his throat. “I think Liam will enjoy watching from the truck bed. I brought some blankets and stuff to make it more comfortable.”
Kate looked over as Jim let down the tailgate then unrolled a sleeping bag for padding. He unrolled another and laid it next to the first, then glanced over his shoulder at Kate as if seeking her approval.
Oh, yes. It looked very accommodating. She’d been on less padded surfaces with this man without complaint.
Something of her thoughts must have shown in her expression, because Jim’s grin grew warm and intimate. He glanced at the sky, then his watch. “I think they’ll be starting soon. We should probably get Liam set so he doesn’t freak out on us.”
Kate nodded and tried not to think about Jim and sleeping bags and padded surfaces as he retrieved the hearing protectors and set them over Liam’s ears.
Liam wiggled his head and grinned. “I look like a big boy?”
“Absolutely,” Jim agreed as he helped Liam onto the tailgate. “Why don’t you scootch back so I can help your mom up?”
Liam scrambled into the truck. Jim turned to Kate.
“I think I can manage,” she said with a soft laugh.
“I think I’d really like to help,” he said just as softly.
She caught her lip with her teeth as his hands came to rest on her waist. His warmth seeped through the light cotton top she wore as he picked her up and set her on the tailgate. Then he nudged her knees apart, leaned in and brushed his lips lightly over hers.
For a moment she returned the kiss then realized where they were and what they were doing. “Liam,” she whispered urgently against Jim’s lips, trying to pull away.
“—isn’t even looking,” Jim said, pulling back. “Relax. I wasn’t going to jump you right here on the athletic field.”
She felt heat creep into her cheeks and tried not to feel hurt by his tone. “It’s just—”
“You don’t want to do anything in front of Liam. I get it. Been down this road before.” Jim stepped into the back of the pickup, leaving Kat
e to scramble up after him.
“I’m sorry.” She fumbled for the right words even as they stuck in her throat. “I’ve never... He’s never seen... I hadn’t thought how I’d react.”
Jim busied himself rearranging the blankets he’d brought into a makeshift pillow for Liam and her. “I get it, Kate.”
She reached out and grasped his arm. How could he get what she couldn’t explain to herself? “Jim, you caught me off guard. I just need to think about how to handle you.”
He gave a hard little laugh. “I didn’t realize I was out of control. I’ll try to keep my hands off you from now on.”
“You’re not,” she said, fighting exasperation. “That’s not what I meant.”
“No?”
“No. What happened Thursday night... I’m not good at this. I’ve never done this before.”
“What? Blown hot and cold on a guy?”
“I guess I deserve that.” Kate glanced uneasily at Liam. Thankfully the hearing protectors made him oblivious to their exchange.
Jim ran a weary hand over his face. “I’m sorry. That was probably out of line.” He shook his head, sat down and linked his hands around his knees.
Kate took her seat next to him. “Look. I can’t pretend there’s nothing going on between us. I don’t want to pretend that. But, I don’t understand it either. This whole thing with you—it’s taken me by surprise.”
Jim nodded and stared off toward the river.
“If I can’t explain it to myself, I don’t know how I’d explain it to Liam if he were to ask questions.” She pressed her lips together and stared at the river, too, the warm night air unaccountably chill. “I have no regrets, though,” she finally whispered. “I can’t make any promises, but I have no regrets.”
“Just for fun, is that it?” Jim turned to her now, his eyes implacable.
“Yes. No! I don’t know. My life is so complicated right now...”
“And you don’t need me to be another complication,” he finished for her, turning away again.
Kate sighed and wished things could be different. Knew there was no way they could be.
“You’re not a complication,” she lied, wishing it were true. “You’re just... a surprise I haven’t figured out how to handle yet.”