“I was just thinking,” Ryan says as he returns to the kitchen. “If you want to meet some new people, you’re welcome to hang out with us tomorrow.”
“Could be fun. What’s on the schedule?”
“We usually leave here about 9:30. Worship service starts at ten.”
Right. Meeting people, Sunday morning, God tattoo. Probably should have pieced that puzzle together a little faster.
“Thanks. I appreciate the invite.”
“But…”
“But I don’t really do that God stuff.”
Ryan doesn’t say anything, but nods as he kneels by the sink again to replace the trap.
“Not that I fault you for doing it,” I continue. “It’s not my place to judge.”
That statement causes him to laugh, which echoes through the room even though his head is under the sink. “What is it about the ‘God stuff’ that turns you off, just out of curiosity?”
“People trying to be perfect. Just feels like setting yourself up for failure to me. I’m not perfect, and I don’t need the hassle.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t sound like a great proposition to me either.” He twists his wrist one more time around the trap and then backs out of the small space. “None of us are perfect. Far from it. Myself especially.”
“That doesn’t bother you then? Sitting there trying to act like you have it all together?”
“I’m not a good enough actor to pull that off.” He turns the faucet on and glances under the sink to make sure nothing’s leaking. Grabbing the plastic bottle of dish soap by the sink, he squeezes some into his palm and begins washing his hands. “That sounds like religion to me. I’m not into religion. Messed up people taking time to meet together and find friendship, though? I’m all for that.”
“Messed up people,” I repeat, not able to keep the skepticism out of my voice. “Sorry, I’ve just had too many personal experiences with church girls to go for that. They’re fine with the messed up person you are on Saturday night while they’re sitting on a barstool drinking Jack and Coke. Fine enough with it that they’ll take you back to their apartment. The next day, they suddenly get all religious. Think they need to ‘fix’ you, like they’re your personal missionary or something. God sent them to save you. Sleep with you first, of course, but afterward they get the sign from above. Fate, or destiny, or whatever they choose to call it.”
The sound of the front door opening causes Ryan’s eyebrows to lift as he gives me a dry smile. He’s probably glad for the interruption so he doesn’t have to address that little rant. Louisville is turning me crazy.
“Did you find it?” Annie wants to know the instant she sees Ryan, her normally bright face looking almost ashen. Without a word, Ryan reaches into his pocket and pulls the ring out, depositing it into her waiting hand. “Oh my word, thank you! I could just kiss you!”
“Don’t you dare.” Harley gives her a stern but playful look as she brushes past and heads up the stairwell, phone in her hand.
“Harley’s on a call with the governor’s office,” Annie informs Ryan with a smile. “Hey, Jake.”
“Annie.” I give her an acknowledging nod of my head, and she rewards me with an eager smile.
“Why does my ring smell like poo?” She wrinkles her nose as she turns her attention back to Ryan.
“Not my fault,” he says, raising his hands to show his innocence. “You need help bringing things in?”
“Would you mind? I’ll go upstairs and wash this ring.”
“Just don’t drop it down the drain,” Ryan teases. She shakes her head, causing her curls to bounce. As soon as she begins her walk up the steps, Ryan grabs his coat from behind the door. Not wanting to remain inside while he gets credit for acting like a gentleman, I grab my coat as well.
“Man, it’s cold,” Ryan states as he opens the door. “Even a snowman would want a coat today.”
I don’t bother answering as I follow him down the sidewalk.
“Okay, one more thing and I’ll shut up,” he continues as he pulls open the back door of Annie’s Jeep and grabs a canvas grocery bag. “We take people to the hospital in the ambulance every day, and sometimes that’s a life or death situation right there. Things happen in the ambulance that bring people back from the brink. You know what I mean?”
“I think so,” I answer hesitantly, taking the bag when he offers it.
“Sunday morning isn’t that for me. The turning point, do or die stuff…the ambulance ride, if you will…that was intensely personal. Not made for public consumption.”
He hands me one more bag before he grabs two himself, closing the door but not making a move toward the house yet. I feel a morality lecture coming on, which would normally cause me to turn tail and walk away. For some reason, though, I just plant myself on the sidewalk and wait for him to finish. Maybe because he doesn’t seem like the traditional preachy type with that mohawk and the giant tattoo. Or maybe simply because the guy is standing out here with his breath forming a cloud in front of his face in the cold air. Gotta respect a guy who’s willing to take it that far, enough to hear him out anyway.
“Sunday morning’s like a post-overdose support group. The after-the-crash follow up at the doctor’s office. A monthly blood pressure check.”
“But what’s the office fee?”
I admit I put that out there just to see how he’d handle my skepticism, but instead of going for a rebuttal, he laughs as he shakes his head.
“Like I said, shutting up now.”
He turns toward the house, and as we walk up the sidewalk, he peeks into one of his grocery bags.
“Green beans,” he groans, wrinkling his nose as he glances over at me. “One of these days I’m going to work up the nerve to tell Harley they’re not really my thing.”
The door opens a couple seconds before we reach it, revealing Harley standing just inside the doorway, wearing jeans, a T-shirt and what have to be the thickest pair of wool socks I’ve ever seen. The dark-haired beauty is also wearing a smile, but it’s not for me.
“Thank you,” she says as she stretches up to kiss Ryan when he walks through the door. She gives me one of those “also-participated” smiles that I’ve become familiar with in the last year. I’ve gotten plenty of them from Camdyn. The smiles that tell a man she’s happy you’re there and all, but you’re not the guy.
In this case, I’m finding that I’m not bothered by it, which is a relief.
She plucks the goods from my hands and then gives Ryan one more parting grin as she turns to take her groceries to the kitchen. I’m not quick to follow, but wait for Ryan to head in her direction with his own bags. He’s not eager to move, instead opting to stand where he is and watch her as she walks away.
I’m almost tempted to laugh before he lets out a low whistle and raises his eyebrows as he turns toward me.
“Definitely not breathing a word about the green beans today,” he tells me with a solemn shake of his head.
A couple hours have passed by the time I brace myself against the cold wind as I stand on the porch, knocking on the door. I hear Bailey’s bubbly voice almost immediately, but thanks to the locks I installed when we first arrived, she can’t manage to open the door. That knowledge admittedly gives me a little surge of pride.
Alexis backs away from the door the instant she has it open, and I hastily step inside and close the door behind me.
“That wind is brutal!” she says as she offers a slight smile. “I hope you haven’t been outside today.”
“As little as possible.” I don’t bother taking off my coat, because I know Bailey’s not going to let me sit down. The fact that she is dragging her own pink puffy coat with the leopard print hood behind her is enough to tell me that she’s been awaiting my arrival.
“Jay’s taking Bailey to Donald’s,” she states matter-of-factly as she stands in front of me like a soldier reporting for duty.
She’s so serious, I can’t resist teasing her a bit. “He is? Why didn
’t anyone tell me about this?”
“You know.” Bailey crosses her little arms over her chest and turns to face Alexis. “He knows, Mommy.”
“Of course he knows. He’s just being silly.”
“Don’t be silly to me,” Bailey demands as she pokes her bottom lip out.
“Yes, ma’am.” I kneel down to help her into her coat, trying to hide the smile on my face.
“Have you been eating chocolate?”
As I finish buttoning the snap over the top of Bailey’s zipper, I wait for her to answer Alexis. When she doesn’t bother to give a response, I glance up expecting her mom to be getting a wet wipe or something. Instead, her eyes are focused on me.
“What are you looking at me for?”
Her eyes widen in surprise, and the corner of her lip lifts ever so slightly. “Um, because I asked you a question.”
“Me? Have I been eating chocolate?” I can feel my eyebrows drawing together as Bailey grabs onto my hand, clearly not interested in her mom’s conversation. “I just had some hot chocolate. Annie made it for me—out of a box. You were right. It wasn’t as good as yours.” Bailey clamps her entire hand over my index finger and then does the same with the other hand over my pinky, trying to pull me in the direction of the door. “What, are you a chocolate bloodhound or something?”
“This Annie person must not care about you at all.”
Bailey’s pulling doesn’t cease, so I lean down to tickle her until she stops. “I hardly think giving me boxed hot chocolate means she doesn’t care about me. Not that she does, either, but the two don’t go hand in hand.”
Alexis bites her lip to keep from smiling, and I barely even notice Bailey jerking on my arm anymore.
“If she cared about you, she wouldn’t let you leave with chocolate on your face.”
“I don’t have anything on my face,” I argue.
“You do. You’ve got a little…” Taking a step toward me, she rubs her finger along the top of her lip and then points to me. When I shake my head, she balls her hand into a fist and licks her thumb, stretching her hand in my direction. I manage to grab her wrist when it’s about two inches from my face.
“Whoa!” My sudden exclamation causes her jaw to drop open, and she would probably attempt to back away if I wasn’t holding her wrist. “Did you just try to spit clean me?”
“I don’t know what I was doing,” she mutters, glancing at her wrist wrapped inside my fingers.
“I’m pretty sure you were about to lick my face.”
“I would never.” Red splotches spread across her neck as she shakes her head and scrunches her eyes closed. “I’m just so used to being with Bailey. I can’t believe I did something so incredibly stupid. So stupid.”
The delicate skin of her wrist feels warm under my fingers, and I know I should release her so she can back away, but I can’t seem to force myself to do it. Something about her makes me feel a little off balance lately. I’d like to tease her until it makes her half crazy, but not as much as I want to put my arm around her and pull her closer. The arm that’s currently occupied as Bailey tugs on my hand yet again.
“So, aren’t you going to do something about it?” I let the question hang in the air for a second and wait for her to open her eyes and meet my gaze. When she finally does, there’s confusion written all over her face.
“I’m sorry,” she manages to breathe.
Her level of sincerity makes me laugh, and as I do so her wrist relaxes a bit in my hand.
“Your apology is nice and all, but it doesn’t get the chocolate off my face.”
“I can’t.” She draws her wrist away when I let go, and I tilt my head to the side and give an exaggerated sigh.
“You can.”
“Absolutely not.”
Her eyes never leave my face, and something inside me just wants to shock her. Fluster her a bit. Get under her skin the way she’s getting under mine.
“Here?” I ask, pointing to the area under my nose, knowing full well that she pointed to the left side of my mouth. When she shakes her head, I move my finger farther to the right.
“No,” she says, looking a bit conflicted, as though she’d like to help but can’t make herself commit.
A smile crosses my face before I drag my tongue along my upper lip, afterwards trying to judge by her reaction whether I was successful. The look on her face tells me otherwise, so before I have time to think about it, or she has time to react, I grab her wrist one more time, raise her hand to my lips, and place the tips of her fingers against my face.
“Jake!”
“Cut a guy a little slack,” I insist, knowing that I’ve teased her enough to make her uneasy.
“Disgusting,” she whispers as she presses her thumb against the top of my lip. She stares at my chin, as though she doesn’t want to have eye contact and physical contact at the same time. When she pulls her fingers away, it takes a second before I can force myself to swallow.
“Thank you.” Those expressive eyes meet mine, trying to tell me a million secrets, but I haven’t learned to read them yet. She steps back and drops her gaze to Bailey, so I do the same.
“Come on, Jay,” Bailey says as she jerks on my hand again. Pretending I don’t know why she’s pulling me in the direction of the door, I stop in my tracks and give her a stern look.
“What are we doing again?”
“Is you kidding me?” She presses her lips into a thin line and stares up at me, and I can’t keep up the pretense. I’d like to think the two of us are growing on one another, but I’m pretty sure both of us know she is just a heartbeat away from having me wrapped around her little finger.
“Alright, Bailey. We’re going to a steakhouse, right?”
“Donald’s!”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot. McDonald’s.”
We walk out the door while Alexis shivers in the door frame as she tells us to have fun, and then I struggle to strap Bailey into my truck after removing that huge fluffy coat from her body. By the time I manage to get her situated and find myself in the driver’s seat, Alexis is still waiting in the doorway, determined to watch us until the very last minute. I lift my hand to wave, and the action seems to draw her out of whatever trance she was in. Lifting her fingers for only a second, she backs into the house and closes the door.
It’s the first time I’ve been alone with Bailey since we’ve been to Louisville.
Although it kind of feels like a monumental accomplishment, a huge part of me wishes there was a slightly difficult brunette in my passenger seat.
Chapter Nineteen
Alexis
The cold wind forces the door closed a little faster than I intended, and it makes a slamming noise as it comes to a rest behind me. Not that anyone would notice, since I’m alone in the house for the first time. Covering my face with my hands, I cringe as I think about the past couple minutes.
Treating Jake like a three-year-old, and then his accusation that I wanted to lick his face. So humiliating. And beyond that, when he brought my hand up to his lips…
No matter how many times I manage to convince myself that I have things under control, my body has to betray me and act like I want Jake touching me. He grabs my wrist, and suddenly the blood in my veins feels like it increases in temperature. He shows me that dimpled smile, and my words seem to get stuck in my throat. Moves my fingers to his mouth, and a swarm of angry butterflies fills my stomach.
Of course he knows exactly what he’s doing, which is why he always laughs at the effects of his actions. I can’t manage to turn it off, either, even as he’s telling me he just left some other woman’s house.
Annie. I can picture her in my mind: blonde hair cascading down her back, lips always in a semi-pout, lives in an apartment where everything is painted red and she has a heart-shaped bed. Making hot chocolate from a box.
She sounds dreadful.
Groaning noisily, I pick up Hoppy from where Bailey left him on the counter and carry him to her bedroom
, berating myself for being so ridiculous. Annie could be nothing like I pictured. She could have black hair, for all I know. Flaming-bright red tresses just like on Bailey’s Ariel pajamas that I threw in the dryer earlier.
Imagining a hundred different beautiful women Jake could have been with before he arrived at our house isn’t really helpful, and it’s a total waste of my free time. Instead, I turn on the TV, settling on a movie from the 1940’s. Gene Kelly dances into the frame, and I plop onto the couch and pull my legs up against my chest. The blue plaid furniture beneath me is used, just like our first attempt at furniture, but the owner assured me this couch hadn’t been with cats. And it doesn’t smell anything like my Great Aunt Betty.
An unexpected knock on the door causes my heart to jump, and I hesitantly rise and head to the front window. Peeking out the blinds, I half expect to see Jake’s truck in the driveway. Instead, there’s a Jeep. The smidgen of the blue coat I can see from the corner of the window doesn’t look familiar, either.
I leave the upper lock fastened so the door will only crack open about an inch. When I peek out through the small space it’s only to find a woman about my age, one side of her hair slicked to her head and the other side full of bouncy black curls. Instantly deciding she doesn’t look too frightening, I unhook the latch and pull the door open farther.
“Hi,” she says, stepping into the house without waiting for an invitation. “Just thought I’d stop by and say hey. Harley and Ryan are having dinner with his sister, and I knew Jake was taking Bailey for a while. Seemed like a perfect opportunity.”
Her mention of Bailey causes me to furrow my brow, but she doesn’t seem fazed.
“Sorry, guess I should introduce myself. Annie Jessup.”
The hand extends in my direction, and I take it even though it makes me a bit uneasy. “Alexis Jennings.”
Curiouser (Girls of Wonder Lane Book 3) Page 18