by Kylie Scott
"Yes." Inside me, the panic slowly unwound, slipping out of me. "Thank you."
"No problem." Joe leaned over, clinking his beer against mine. "Cheers."
"Cheers."
He kept on watching me with his lips shut tight. Most people's attention wigged me out, put me on edge. But not Joe's. Or not exactly. He meant me no harm. Somewhere deep down inside of me, I knew it to be true. The man was a straight shooter.
Not that I didn't want to kind of beat him with a wet fish for putting me on the spot like that.
Inside my head, things were winding down, starting to hurt. I pulled some Kleenex out of my pocket and blew my nose. A lovely feminine flower, that was me. Not that Joe ever seemed perturbed. The bearded one was a true gentleman, despite all of the hair, tats, and savage looks. Though realistically we'd only known each other for a few days. Sure, we'd been emailing each other for months, but face-to-face was different.
"You're looking tired," he said. "Want to go back to the hotel now?"
"Soon." The pizza was finished but half of my beer remained. "I do like your friends. Even the ones who play bad love songs."
Quietly, he laughed. "Nell has a lot to answer for."
Reluctantly, I smiled.
"We all thought she and Pat would be together forever. Their divorce was a hell of a shock. They started going out when the rest of us were still worried about catching girl germs. If those two couldn't make it work, I don't know what hope the rest of us have." Joe took a sip of his beer, eyes unhappy. "Apparently Nell and Eric did some drinking after work one night. One thing led to another..."
"Pregnant."
"Yep." His eyebrows went high. "No one saw that one coming."
"You think she and Eric might ever get together?"
"My brother should be so lucky." He barked out a laugh. "No. Nell knows him too damn well. They're just friends, I think. She was always more like a sister. Eric and her brother, Vaughan, used to be real tight when they were kids. They had a falling-out after high school."
I stayed silent, letting him talk.
"They're getting along again now. Sorted shit out when Vaughan started working behind the bar and his girl took over Pat's share of the business."
"That's good."
"Yeah." One side of his mouth kicked up. "Now if my little brother would just fix the mess between him and Dad everything'd be great. Or at least Thanksgiving dinner would be a fuckload more pleasant."
"Is that why you liked talking to me?"
No response.
"I didn't know your family or friends," I said. "I was outside all of the drama. Safe. You could unload on me."
Slowly, he nodded. "Yeah. In truth, that was a big part of it. I swear, some days, talking to you, it was about the only thing that kept me sane."
"Glad I could be there for you."
"Please," he said. "After all the fuckery I pulled, disappointing you and everything."
"Ha." A dull ache awoke inside my chest. "Yeah. Good point. You suck."
"I am sorry, Alex," he said quietly.
"I know."
A rumble came from inside his throat and he pushed his long hair back from his face. "I was an asshole to you."
"Pretty much."
"Mind you, I didn't have a clue then how cute you looked in your Little Miss Fucking Sunshine panties."
Huh. I cocked my head. "You flirting with me, Bigfoot?"
A slight smile was all the answer I got. What a goddamn tease.
"Are your parents looking forward to the baby?" I asked, taking my time finishing the last of the beer. Even with the flirting, being around Joe was nice, easy. With just the two of us again, it was relaxing.
"Absolutely. Dad threw a shitfit at first, but they've both known Nell a long time and love her like family." He looked up at me from beneath his thick brows. "Mom would like to meet you before you head off. If that's possible."
"Oh. That's really nice of her." And not the least bit incredibly scary. Holy shit, meeting someone's mother was a big deal. Typical of Joe to be so calm about it. "Wow. Does she know about the whole identity-theft psychic-stripper debacle?"
"That's the official term now, is it? Well, no, she doesn't know about the whole ITPSD."
One shoulder jerked. "See how things go. Your flight isn't until late tomorrow. That'll give you a chance to stop by and say hi."
My throat was so dry. I could barely swallow. "Sure. Why not?"
CHAPTER TEN
Message sent seven weeks ago:
ME: Have you given anymore thought to the project with the top floor of the Bird Building?
HIM: Have you give any more thought to accepting that big job from the prestigious marketing firm?
ME: Touche.
HIM: Truth is, I'm drowning right now, basically working around the clock. I got talked into covering extra shifts at the bar and I'm helping dad out more with his business. He and my brother had another fight so I can't get him to help. I'm also still trying to spend as much time as possible with my friend Pat, the one that got divorced. And I got caught up helping Nell, his ex-wife, put together a truckload of furniture she felt the need to buy. Need more hours in the day. Maybe Marty should come out east and help me for a while.
ME: Sorry, Marty's way too busy gathering nuts for winter. Then forgetting where he put most of them. Sounds like you're taking on too much. You need to slow it down some, hide from the world more, and learn how to say no like me. When in doubt, don't answer the phone or the door. It's always people.
HIM: Sounds a little extreme, but I could do with hiding for a while. Let's swap lives.
ME: Wait, you want me to leave my couch? I don't see that happening. Maybe cloning you in some way would be a better idea. Get you a friendly cyborg to help around the home or something. A robotic squirrel to be your new best friend, maybe? Don't knock it till you've tried it.
HIM: Speaking of, Blade Runner's on tv. You like?
ME: Only about the best movie ever made! Channel please?
"Nooo," I sobbed quietly into my cell. "Why did you wake me?"
"You didn't call me back yesterday," said Val, unperturbed by my pain.
"Sorry." I rolled over. Hell. Quarter past ten shone judgmentally from the alarm on the bedside table. The sun-block curtains were doing their job.
"Are you seriously still in bed?" Val's voice changed quickly from surprise to excitement. "Oh my God, is he there? He is, isn't he? About time. I knew all of that anger would turn into kinky rough sex. Give me all the details. Is he a dirty twisted beast in the sack? I bet he is. He's got that whole leonine golden hair and beard thing going on."
"Ah. You can calm down, I'm alone." Slowly I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "I just couldn't get to sleep until, like, three in the morning or something. So I was sleeping in."
"Well, that's disappointing."
"Sorry."
Truth was, the room had seemed too big and empty. Lonesomeness had crept in without Joe's presence. The bed had been too soft, the pillow too lumpy, and nothing seemed to work right. I don't know, it was stupid, really. First, the hotel room hadn't been as comforting as my own place due to the lack of my personal stuff. Now it was even less comforting due to the lack of Joe, which made absolutely no sense. So yeah ... I'd tossed and turned, deciding to delay my flight yet again. Given I'd already let my clients know I was taking this time off, work would be fine. It gave me no good excuse to run home. My mild agoraphobia, however, had turned into a major commitment phobia. I wasn't certain I was willing to risk a romantic relationship with Joe. Way too scary. But I wasn't actually running home to hide and regroup either. The quandary was lifting my anxiety and confusion levels to an all-time high.
No wonder I couldn't sleep.
Then the fears about the designs had kept creeping back into my mind, and basically my head had been a mess. Desperate to get some z's, I'd popped a sleeping pill in the wee hours of the morning.
"You looked up pictures of him?" I asked.<
br />
"Yes. There were some on the bar's Facebook page. Had to see who I was hating on."
"And you really think he's hot?" I asked Val, curious.
"Hmm?"
"Beast man or whatever you called him."
"Abso-fucking-lutely. I'd mount that mountain man in a New York minute given half the chance. And no boyfriend, of course."
"Huh. Your opinion of him seems to have dramatically changed since you got a look at him."
"Are you inferring that I'm shallow?"
"I wouldn't dare."
"Actually," she said. "I was pretty impressed with how he took me ripping into him the other day on the phone. Not everyone can apologize and admit when they are wrong."
"Hmm."
A heavy sigh from Valerie. "Also, now that I've settled down with Liam, I really need you to make more of an effort on the sex front. It's hard to live vicariously through you when you rarely do anything of interest."
I did my usual with the Kleenex, as opposed to answering.
"Don't you blow your nose at me, young lady," she snapped. "It's the truth. Vibrators are no substitute for an actual relationship."
"I never said they were. And I have regular sex with actual people, thank you very much. Or I did up until a couple of months ago." Right up until I got a certain Mr. Collins stuck inside my head. Luckily, that issue was being dealt with. Sort of.
Val groaned. "Please. I'd prefer you just stuck to having sex with yourself. Anonymous-sex-with-strangers stories get boring after a while. Plus I worry about you. Be daring and actually become emotionally involved with someone you're banging for once. Get to know them. Who knows, you might even want to keep one of them around for more than a night."
"The fact that they go away afterward is part of their appeal."
"But there's so much more you're missing out on."
"And maybe someday I'll do the whole commitment thing. But for now, this setup just happens to currently suit where I am in life."
"You've been saying that since you were eighteen."
"Do we have to do this now?"
"Yes. Yes, we do. Apart from me and your folks, your closest relationships are with food deliverymen and the UPS guy. You live your life like you're in a goddamn bubble and it needs to stop," she insisted. "You're going to end up like one of those crazy cat ladies with your apartment smelling of piss and regret."
"You don't think you're being a little dramatic here?"
She harrumphed. "I'm not the one buying birthday cards for my pizza delivery guy."
"One time. Once. And I was trying to be nice."
"Oh yeah? How's he doing?"
"He and his girlfriend got engaged just before I left, actually." I smiled. "Gorgeous ring."
"I rest my case."
I rolled my eyes. "Whatever."
"Normal folk are not this involved in the lives of their takeout deliverymen," she declared. "That's why I pushed you into going. At least Idaho is outside of your apartment."
"Since when did we ever care about normal?"
"Maybe it's time to start."
Deep breaths. That's what was required. Deep steadying breaths so as not to lose my cool.
"Look, I get it," she said. "God, do I get it. It's incredibly hard to take that leap and actually trust someone, knowing that you could get hurt. But we can't hide away for the rest of our lives just because we went through some shit in our younger years. Liam taught me that. Well, him and eight years of therapy. I take it you're still down on the idea of talking to someone about what happened?"
"Val." Memories of blood filled my mind. So much blood. A whole bathroom painted in the stuff. I gagged, my imagination more than happy to provide a lovely flashback of the nauseating metallic scent. "It happened to you, not to me. I don't need fixing."
"Bullshit."
"I can't do this right now."
"We need to talk about it."
Knocking at the door. Perfect timing.
"I've got to go, that'll be him," I said.
"Do not hang up on me."
"I have to go."
"Alexandra Marie Parks, don't you dare--"
"I love you. Say hi to Liam for me. Bye." And click. Call ended. Phew.
More knocking at the door.
The day had barely started and I was already over people. I opened it, trying for a polite smile for Joe. It felt closer to a grimace, however. Once I saw him, though, all of the tiredness and yuck in me lightened. Must have been some kind of beard magic. "Hi."
"Hey." Hands in pockets, he just looked at me. Nil expression on his face. "What's going on?"
"Nothing much."
Neither of us moved.
"Really? 'Cause you're looking a little strung out," he said, tipping his head to one side. "Aren't you the 'honesty means everything' girl or have I got the wrong room again?"
I raised my chin. "All right. Do you want to know the terrible truth?"
"Hit me."
"I'm a basket case," I confessed. "A total head job. Might have forgotten to tell you that salient detail in the emails. But I am. A total weirdo nutter with more issues than I can count. Including avoiding having a real live normal sort of relationship with a man. To my mind, romantic relationships and commitment are the black plague. In case you hadn't already guessed."
"Seems like no one has it easy these days. Everyone's got their problems." He didn't even blink. "I haven't dated anyone seriously in years, not since things went to shit with my first girlfriend. We were together a long time and I thought it was for keeps, but ... things change. Only it took me a long time to change with them. Then, later on, I lied to a woman on the Internet, pretended to be my pussy magnet brother just to get her attention because I thought she was funny and nice and I wanted to keep talking to her. Fuck knows what a shrink would make of that."
I smiled despite myself. "Funny and nice, huh?"
"And pretty. Real damn pretty."
God help me, I was blushing.
"Also, I keep playing family peacekeeper trying to make everyone happy," he said. "It's not working."
"Interesting," I said, leaning a hip against the door. "You try to please people while I just want to avoid them."
Dark eyes assessed me.
"Or at least that's what Valerie said my problem was."
"You think she's right?" he asked.
I shrugged, studied the carpet. "She's spent a lot of time in therapy, so she usually is."
"Hmm. I'm not sure those two qualities necessarily go together."
"He's not handsomer than you." I creased up my face. "Just, you know ... by the way."
Joe said nothing. There did seem to be a certain light in his eyes, though.
"He's not. So don't think that," I said in a rush. "It's like comparing pizza to Chinese takeout; they're both great in their own way, you know?"
"You're comparing me to takeout?" A little wrinkle appeared between his brows.
"Definitely not. You're the pizza in this metaphor."
A blink. "Okay."
"Gourmet, thin crust. We're talking top quality here."
He nodded. "I can live with that."
"Anyway. You coming in or not?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said, maneuvering past me into the room. "We heading to the airport today or what?"
"Meh." I shut the door, putting my cell on the table, and turned to check out the view across the lake. Blue shimmering water and a pristine clear sky. This crazy insane urge inside of me, wanting to know what would happen next. What if I stayed and ... just what-if in general. Screw it. I let my mouth do what it would. "But the weather's so nice."
"Yeah," he said carefully. "It is."
The tension in the room, I could have cut it and served it as cake. Shitty cake, but just the same. My hands twisted at my sides. "Seems a pity to waste it sitting in an airport lounge just waiting around."
A small hopeful smile curved his lips. "That would suck."
"And what's another day or so, right
?"
He shrugged. "Fine with me."
My phone started ringing. "Just let me grab a quick shower."
"Not going to take that call?" Joe made himself at home in the comfy chair, crossing his legs with his ankle resting on one knee, the way guys did.
"It's Valerie calling to try and deep-and-meaningful me some more. I'm just not up to it right now."
"Ah." He eyed the buzzing phone warily while I gathered a clean set of clothes.
"Feel free to answer it if you like," I joked.
The man did not laugh.
Today's options were jeans or tights and a skirt. I had good legs. A big butt, but good legs. Black tights and a matching skirt, done. A somewhat fancy red bohemian blouse with cool embroidery for the top half. Sometimes a girl just wants to dress up a little. Feel pretty. No biggie.
"Won't be long." I headed for the bathroom.
He pulled out his phone and relaxed back in the chair, just hanging. "No worries. Take your time."
*
Tools sat in the first large storeroom that was one of the studio apartment options. It sat above an empty shop, on the other end of the building from the Dive Bar. If Joe did wind up living there, he could just about make as much noise as he wanted.
A partition sat in the middle of the room, turning it into two offices, maybe. The little bathroom was a mold-and spider-infested ruin.
"Galley kitchen would work well," mumbled Andre. He, Joe, and Pat were gathered around my laptop, looking over the designs.
"Definitely conserve space." Joe pulled a rubber band out of his jeans pocket and proceeded to pull his hair back and put it into a ponytail. "I think the walk-in shower's a good idea too. Keep things nice and streamlined. Minimum fuss. Nothing I can't handle."
"Okay," said Andre.
Pat seemed less scary today. Just sad. Contained, I guess. He didn't say or smile much. From the brief chat I'd had with Nell, and the mega-fast walk through of her kitchen the night before, I couldn't imagine the two of them together. She came across as so bright and bubbly.
I moseyed on over to the collection of tools, just checking things out. A battered red toolbox sat open, displaying a wide array of goods. Atop a notebook sat a laser meter and measuring tape. A rubber-headed mallet and a saw. Ooh, a sledgehammer.
The men folk were still busy, discussing the designs ... what the hell?
Quiet as I could, I picked up the sledgehammer. Gave the heavy bastard a swing or two back and forth. Wonder what it would be like to send it slamming into something. To crash it into a sheet of plasterboard.