by Sally Falcon
“I think I am.” She gave him a chagrined smile. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t torn between the two of you. I know you’d be good for Jessie, no matter what she thinks she needs.”
“Which brings us to the reason for our little meeting.” He cleared his throat and straightened his spine against the back of his chair. He had the urge to ask for a cigarette and a blindfold, knowing exactly how a prisoner felt facing the firing squad. This was his moment of truth. “What kind of man does my Jessie want?”
“Your Jessie?” He hadn’t realized that he’d said the words out loud, but Gina’s satisfied grin took away his embarrassment. “Now I don’t feel like such a traitor about this.” She pulled out a folded sheet of paper from her purse and slipped it across the table.
Sweet heaven, there really is a list. He stared in fascinated horror at the paper, wondering what to do next.
“It isn’t going to bite you, you know.” Gina tapped the piece of paper with a polished nail. “Jessie’s a very organized person, so when she decided it was past time for her to get married, she was as methodical about it as usual. She bought the latest books on relationships and began making a list of what qualities would make a suitable husband.”
“The books on the end table,” he murmured, still mesmerized by the white rectangle between them. “Why go to all that trouble?”
“She has her reasons, but that’s something you’re going to have to find out from Jessie.” Gina’s expression told him that she would go only so far with her help. “If Jessie hadn’t been so pleased with Monsieur Bunny this morning, I wouldn’t have agreed to come here.”
“She liked it?” he couldn’t resist asking.
“Yes, she did, but that’s all I’m going to say.” She didn’t have a chance to explain further as the waiter came by to take their orders.
Trevor reluctantly reached for the piece of paper, not bothering to look at it before he folded it and put it in his wallet. He was torn between the desire to read it immediately and the urge to burn it without knowing what Jessie had listed. For now he had to try to have a rational conversation with Gina as they drank the coffee that neither of them wanted.
“This lady has some unrealistic expectations,” Trevor announced as he slid into the wooden booth that evening.
Logan looked up from his beer and asked, “So you’ve met my mother.”
“Your mother? What are you talking about?” Trevor glanced up from the sheet of paper in his hand, noticing the morose look on the other man’s face for the first time.
“I got back from Texas yesterday to find my mother has been T.L.’s guest for a few days. Damn, I can still hear her asking Uncle Pres, ‘Who are these people?’ when he announced my trip down here.” He propped his chin in his hand, and stared balefully at his companion. “She’s been alone with Tory for five days now, something I haven’t been able to accomplish since I got back. I might as well pack my bags tonight.”
“A Yankee retreat? Why couldn’t you have had a few ancestors with the same spineless attitude about a hundred and thirty years ago?”
“Those are fighting words, son. I’ll have you know I had relatives with Sherman in Atlanta.”
“Big deal, so did I. My mother’s family is from Maryland,” Trevor explained with a smile. “I don’t know why I’m trying to cheer you up. All you have to do is corner Tory. I have some big problems. Take a look at this.”
Logan sat up and skimmed the typed sheet that was thrust in front of him. He cast a sympathetic look at his friend a few minutes later. “She really does have high standards. Do you fit any of these requirements?”
“My salary and my college degree. And I’ve never been convicted of a crime,” he stated firmly, dismissing three of the twenty prerequisites. At Logan’s raised eyebrows, he explained, “A Halloween prank when I was in college that the town folks didn’t like. We got off with a stiff warning from the judge.”
“Did you find out why she made out this list?”
“Not exactly. Her partner would say only that Jessie is looking for a husband, but I think there’s more to it. She was kind of reluctant to give me the list.” He sat back to reconstruct the interview with Gina. She had wanted to help him, but would go only so far. The big mystery was why Jessie was looking for a specific type of man. He was on his own to solve that puzzle.
“I don’t see anything about babies on here.”
“I know, and Gina wouldn’t talk about that either.”
“So, what next?”
“I began my challenge last Thursday night. While the next step is doing its work, I’m going to lay low,” he informed him, more than pleased with his plan. “I’m going to pique her interest this week but stay safely out of her way. Sort of the water-on-the-stone technique. By the end of the week I think I’ll have worn down her resistance.”
“Or made her madder than hell,” Logan remarked philosophically.
“There is that, but at least she’ll know I’m interested.”
“This is really serious, then?”
“The vote’s still out on that, but I’m more serious about this lady than I ever thought I would be about any woman.”
Logan solemnly lifted his bottle of beer. “Morituri te salutamus.”
“How many of those have you had?” Trevor asked, eyeing his companion closely.
“‘We who are about to die salute you,’” he translated roughly, and shrugged. “It’s the only thing I remember from prep-school Latin, and damned if it didn’t seem appropriate. Tomorrow I try to get your sister’s attention away from her new store.”
“Here’s to the ladies,” Trevor responded solemnly. Was he a certifiable idiot to continue his pursuit? The lady wasn’t very encouraging, and her requirements for the perfect male were daunting. Looking at a couple whose arms were entwined by the bar, he knew the answer. The memory of Jessie’s hesitant responses to his kisses and the warmth of her willowy body in his arms made it worthwhile. He had to see what other magic she could bring into his life, if nothing more.
“Not another one?” Gina exclaimed as she spotted the third rabbit when she returned from lunch on Wednesday. “He didn’t happen to bring it in person, did he?”
“No,” Jessie practically snapped. She tried not to look at the hot-pink rabbit sitting next to the others, but her gaze was drawn to it. He was going to pay for this, she pledged silently, shooting a scathing glance at the tiny towel wrapped around the chubby pink waist.
“Should I bother to ask about the towel?”
“No.”
“Somehow I thought you would say that,” Gina returned morosely. “I have a feeling that you’ve been holding back some vital pieces of information.”
Jessica glared menacingly at her dearest friend.
“How about a message this time?” Gina wasn’t going to give up so easily.
“Yes, there was,” she answered, her expression still bleak. “He wants me to stop by the house on Saturday—”
“Hey, that’s great.”
“To discuss his final selections on wallpaper and paint,” Jessie finished through clenched teeth as if her friend hadn’t spoken.
“You’re not real happy about this, are you?”
“I haven’t been able to sleep or eat for the past three days. He has me so confused that I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“I would say he’s definitely interested.” Gina was always more optimistic.
“In what? Driving me slowly insane? I should have refused to do the house the minute I discovered he was the owner,” Jessie grumbled, burying her face in her hands with a groan for added effect. “I could have gone on with my life without Trevor Planchet waltzing in and out whenever he pleases. I also wouldn’t be having nightmares about Bugs Bunny chasing me with an ax.”
“You are in bad shape.”
Something in Gina’s voice made Jessie splay her fingers and peer suspiciously through them at her friend. “Is there anything you haven’t told me?”<
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“Why, heavens no. What would I know about any of this?” Her dark eyes widened in surprise.
“I don’t know,” Jessie moaned, realizing her mind was turning to mush because of one very elusive male. She was not, however, going to give in. “You’ve been his biggest cheerleader so far. He could turn out to be an ax murderer as I suggested, and you would still defend him.”
“Jessica, how can you say something like that?” Gina laid her hand over her heart to emphasize her innocence, a gesture very reminiscent of the man they were discussing.
“Now you can see the state he’s gotten me in. I’m imagining conspiracies all around me,” she admitted with a sigh. “I just hope I can last until Saturday. Of course, now that I have six rabbits’ feet, I should have good luck.”
“I think I’ll go make us some tea,” Gina announced hastily. “I think this is going to be a long afternoon.”
Jessie stepped down from the van on Saturday afternoon, ten minutes before the appointed time. Almost dispassionately, she noticed that her hands weren’t quite steady as she reached for her tote bag and the sample books. Uncertain about what lay ahead, Jessie lingered by the car to look at the outside of the house. The painters and roofer had been busy during the week, almost completing the exterior while she had been avoiding the house during the same time.
Trevor had an excellent sense of color, she decided judiciously. Although not showy in the true “Painted Lady” tradition, the house stood proudly among the surrounding oak trees. The body of the house had gone from a dilapidated grubby yellow to a stately grayish taupe, with the structural trim and windows in a creamy dark tan, and the lacework and roof cresting highlighted by a periwinkle-lavender blend. The new colors brought out the alternating textures of the shingles and the carved details of the Eastlake embellishments.
Unable to delay any longer, Jessie climbed the stairs to the porch, her footsteps seeming to echo ominously. Was she about to make an absolute fool of herself? It was too late to back out now. Fleetingly she wished she could muster the aggravation she’d felt a few days ago. Unfortunately, there wasn’t time. The front door was open, and he was sure to hear her approach through the flimsy screen.
“Jessie? I’m in the dining room,” Trevor called out as if he had read her mind.
Self-consciously she smoothed her hand over her hair, feeling vulnerable with it hanging loose around her shoulders. Were her moss-green slacks and maroon-and-green paisley blouse too casual? Should she have worn a dress instead? She knew she was being ridiculous as she stepped into the entry hall. What did her clothes matter, if she couldn’t think of anything to say?
She was brought up short by the furniture that cluttered the dining room. She glanced at the gleaming pieces, realizing this was the collection from the garage she’d inspected last week. Trevor was in the middle of the room, rubbing a cloth over a long rosewood table. From his tousled hair and the way his rust-colored shirt clung damply to his back, he’d been working for quite some time. When he saw her in the doorway, he straightened and leaned his hip against the edge of the table.
“There you are. I thought you got lost for a minute.”
“You’ve been busy this week.” Jessie said the first thing that came into her head, then cursed her hasty words. She meant busy working on the house. Would he think she was alluding to the rabbits instead?
“I thought you might want a better look at Aunt Beth’s furniture, and then we can discuss what else I need to buy.”
She felt silly standing in the doorway but didn’t know what else to do. “I hadn’t realized there was such a mix of styles.”
“Yeah, that’s where you’ll have to guide me,” he admitted. “I know what I like, not what it’s called. I figured with the leaves put in the table you could use it as a work area instead of scrambling around on the floor.”
“Let’s get started, then.” Jessie decided that work would keep her mind off the tautness of his shirt across his square shoulders and the way the soft denim of his jeans hugged his lean hips and waist. “From your initial instructions, I’ve made up two color schemes for each room and did some rough sketches of furniture arrangements. We have about a week to work out a final plan so I can order the wallpaper and curtains.”
“Meeting the deadline for the tours isn’t going to give you too much trouble, is it?” He moved to her side while she pulled her sketch pad and samples from her tote bag.
“No, I don’t think so. I’ve tried to avoid materials that have to be custom-made.” She laid out the floor plan for the lower floor, then the sketches for each room. When Trevor moved closer, she nervously sought a diversion and reached for her pencils in the tote bag.
Her fingers were suddenly clumsy, unable to locate the pencil box quickly. Impatiently she upended the cloth bag, and the acrylic pencil box slipped out easily. “Since you said you preferred mixing contemporary and antique pieces, I’ve concentrated the brighter, stronger colors and patterns in the rugs and walls. Accent pieces will draw the visitors’ eyes to the proper focal points in the room.”
“Okay, let’s go ahead with these.” He quickly gathered up one sketch for each room.
Brushing her hair over her shoulder, she turned toward him to see what else he had to say. He stared back at her, as if he was deferring to her. “Trevor, you can’t just make a decision like that. You may hate it a few months from now.”
“Why?” His forehead furrowed into a confused frown. “You did all the preliminary work. I told you, I know what I like. I don’t like to complicate things, unless absolutely necessary. When I see something I like, I know instantly that’s what I want. There’s never been anything I’ve regretted later.”
She wasn’t sure they were still talking about her work. His eyes had darkened to a polished onyx color, his expression serious as he waited for her protest. “I see. I wish you would take a little more time to decide.”
“This is what I want. You have excellent taste and haven’t cluttered up the rooms with too much junk.” His smile was guileless. He cocked his head to the side and frowned suddenly. “Do you have many customers who change their minds, even if it’s too late?”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course. They change their minds, constantly. That’s one of the reasons Gina and I concentrate on corporate clients. There’s usually less stress, though an office manager can be just as persnickety or indecisive as a homeowner. Luckily, not too many business people want to match the wall color to a tiny strip in the design of a throw pillow.”
“You mean you do all this work, then change it all around until the client likes it?”
“Of course. That’s what I get paid to do. I give the client advice based on my experience,” she answered, unable to understand his concern. “Everyone has an image of what they want, and I subtly try to show them how to do it with taste and style. Usually we can send back furniture or drapes, if they aren’t custom-made.”
“Have you considered a career in the diplomatic corps?” he asked, giving her a reluctant grin. “I’m beginning to understand why you’re so calm and serene. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone else like you, Jessica DeLord. Don’t you ever get hopping mad and want to tell clients where they can put their stupid ideas?”
As he moved closer, she wished she was really the person he was describing. Calm had little to do with her emotions when he was nearby, especially at this moment. Torn between anticipation and apprehension, she willed herself to relax. This was what she had been wanting for the past week, to be face to face with Trevor to test her turbulent feelings.
Raising her chin, she waited for him to continue. Exhilaration shivered through her with one look at his avid expression. She almost laughed out loud at her urge to back away. This was what she’d been fighting against for the past few weeks. How foolish could she be?
It seemed so natural to lean toward him, lean into his hard body as his arms closed around her. The touch of his lips was gentle, hesitant, inviting her to
respond. Tentatively she laid her palms against the flat plane of his chest, flexing her fingers against his warmth. His heartbeat matched the acceleration of her own.
Nothing existed in Jessie’s universe but the two of them. His arms were taut as his hands brushed over her back. The thin material of her blouse no longer seemed to exist. His unique masculine scent mingled with the smell of lemon oil and swamped her senses. His soft, thick hair slipped easily through her fingers. His mouth parted hers to deepen their kiss, seeking the hidden secrets within.
The traitorous little voice inside her sighed in satisfaction. As Jessie snuggled closer to his strong body, she perceived the danger in him. But instead of retreating, she moved closer, unable to resist the lure.
A moment later she felt bereft when his lips abandoned hers. Then she sighed in delight as his mouth trailed across her cheek to the ultrasensitive skin beneath her ear. “Oh, Jessie, this isn’t something that can be put on any list.”
For a moment she didn’t understand. Why was he talking about her plans for the house at a time like this? Then he was nibbling on her earlobe, and she really didn’t care.
“We’re good together, aren’t we?” His breath, warm and moist at her ear, shivered down her spine. “It doesn’t matter if my job involves overnight trips, or if I have two drinks before dinner.”
Jessie froze. His words suddenly made horrible sense. He knew about her candidate’s list. With sickening clarity, she remembered thinking that Gina had been keeping something from her earlier in the week. Trevor had managed to wheedle the list from her supposed friend!
“Jessie, what’s wrong?” Trevor raised his head, still holding her securely in the circle of his arms. His eyes narrowed as he tried to gauge her mood.
“Hey, Trevor! Are you in there, boy?” T.L.’s hearty voice boomed through the quiet room from the back of the house.