by Eve Gaddy
“Thanks for meeting me,” Dylan said when he arrived a few minutes after Jack. “It’s just a scratch, but that damn Wyatt’s as bad as a woman.” Still griping, he sat on the exam table. “Wouldn’t shut his mouth until I called you.”
Scratch my ass, Jack thought, glancing at the torn bloody white undershirt covering the wound. “Good for Wyatt. I’m glad at least one of my brothers has some sense. How did you do it?” he asked, unwrapping the shirt from around Dylan’s arm.
“Fixing the fence. Damned barb wire.”
Just as he’d thought, Dylan’s idea of a scratch wasn’t the same as Jack’s. “Hate to tell you, but Wyatt was right. You need stitches. And a tetanus booster.”
“Oh, man,” Dylan complained. “You know I don’t like needles.”
“It won’t heal well, and knowing you, will undoubtedly get infected, especially if I don’t stitch you up. Buck up, cowboy.”
They talked while Jack set up the instruments and injected the wound area with a local anesthetic before beginning to stitch him up.
“Hear you’re going out with the Heartbreaker again,” Dylan said, as he started stitching. “She’s a looker, I’ll give you that.”
The Heartbreaker was the name his brothers had given Maya when she left Marietta—and Jack—behind. They’d been young, but old enough to give Maya a name that had stuck, at least within the family and he suspected elsewhere too. “You’re not going around town calling her that, are you?” That would be great for Maya to hear.
“Would I do that?” Dylan asked, sounding hurt.
“Yes, but you’d better not.”
“Relax. She won’t hear it from me.” He raised an eyebrow. “At least three different sources in Marietta told me you two were an item again. You work fast.” Dylan winced as Jack continued stitching, pulling each thread carefully through the skin. “Damn, that hurts.”
“Thought you were a tough guy?”
“Tougher than you, Whipper,” Dylan retorted with his favorite nickname for Jack. Wyatt, a little older than Dylan, had nicknamed Jack ‘Ripper’ for Jack the Ripper. At the time, Dylan couldn’t pronounce his R’s, so Ripper became Whipper.
“In your dreams,” Jack told him. “Maya and I aren’t an item.” Yet. He could hope, though, couldn’t he? “We’ve only had one date.”
“Yeah? You gonna leave it at that?”
Thinking about being with Maya again, Jack smiled and shook his head. “Hell, no. We’re going out again tonight.”
“You dog,” Dylan said. “Watch out you don’t get burned again.”
Good advice. But it was already far too late to be careful.
“No, that’s not it,” Amy said, lounging on Maya’s bed. “It’s cute, but not sexy.”
“Who says it has to be sexy?”
“You did when you said you wanted to make his eyes fall out of his head.”
Okay, she had a point. “What about these boots? They’re new.” She held up a pair of black suede ankle boots with a low, stacked heel.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many boots. How can you wear them all?”
“I work in fashion,” Maya defended herself. “I have to dress the part.”
“Maya, you work from home most of the time now.”
“I didn’t always. Besides, I video chat. I’m not a model any longer, but I still have to look good.” Sighing, she rubbed her hand over the suede. “Besides, I love shoes. Especially boots.”
“For real? I hadn’t noticed,” Amy said dryly, waving a hand at the closet. “But I guess the fact that you have a separate closet for shoes should have clued me in.”
Maya ignored her sister, concentrating instead on the clothes in her other bedroom closet. Most of her dressier clothes were in closet in the spare bedroom, but the master closet held a mix. She was considering adding a large, walk-in closet to the master bedroom, but she knew it would cost more than she could afford right now. Moving had taken a big chunk of her disposable income.
“How about this?” She pulled out a baggy mid-thigh length sweater and a pair of black leggings.
“You know the drill. Try it on,” Amy insisted. As Maya pulled the sweater over her head, her sister added, “You’re lucky I love you. Otherwise I’d hate you for what you look like in clothes.”
“You could look just as good if you’d buy some new clothes once in a while.”
“Yes, because I’m so tall and slim, I’d look great in something like that.” She flicked a hand at the outfit Maya had just taken off.
“I’m not slim.”
“Of course you are. I suppose you don’t think you’re tall, either.”
Amy’s height, or lack of it, had always been an issue for her. “You’re petite. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“There’s nothing right with it, either,” Amy grumbled.
“What do you think?” Maya asked after putting on the leggings and boots as well.
Amy looked her over critically. “If you want him to think you’re a bag lady, sure. Didn’t you try that sweater on? Whatever possessed you to buy that? Even you can’t make that thing look good.”
Looking at the oversized, muddy brown sweater in the mirror, Maya couldn’t argue. “It was on sale. At the time, I thought it was cute. It went with some boots l like.”
“Well, it’s hideous,” Amy said.
“Don’t hold back, Amy. Tell me what you really think.”
Unabashed, Amy laughed and went to the closet. “Here. Try this.” She handed Maya a cowl necked, silvery gray sweater dress, belted at the waist and hitting mid-thigh. Then she disappeared into the shoe closet, emerging with faux lace-up black boots that stopped just above the knees.
Maya didn’t argue. She put everything on and waited for her sister’s response.
“That’s it,” Amy said, grabbing up her purse. “My job is done,” she declared. “Now I have to go. I have a piano lesson in half an hour.” She shook her head. “Unfortunately, with a child who has neither aptitude nor desire. His mother is convinced he has talent, but then, his mother is totally tone deaf, so that’s not surprising. Call me after. I want details.”
“Maybe there won’t be anything to tell.”
“With you wearing that outfit? Not likely.” Amy gave her a “get real” look and left.
Chapter Five
Carmen walked into Maya’s room a short time after Amy left. “Mom, can I spend the night with Mattie tonight? She’s having a sleepover after the party. Charlie’s going to pick us up.”
Mattie lived with her brother Jesse Guthrie and his new wife, Charlie. Maya had carpooled with them before, besides knowing Jesse’s family from way back.
Although Carmen and Mattie Guthrie had bonded immediately upon meeting each other, unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said of Carmen and Mattie’s best friend, Gina Gallagher. Maya wasn’t certain what that was about, but she suspected it had something to do with a boy.
“Sure, that sounds fun. Who else is going to the sleepover?” Maya asked.
Apparently just now noticing the clothes and boot bomb that had exploded over Maya’s bed, Carmen asked, “What’s going on? Why are all your clothes everywhere?”
“Amy was helping me find something to wear tonight.”
“You’re going out again? With who?”
“Dr. Gallagher.”
“You went out with him last night,” she said accusingly.
“And I’m going out with him again. Why, does it bother you?”
Carmen shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess not. It just seems kinda weird.”
Weird that she was dating period, or weird that she was dating Jack? Maya didn’t ask. “I wish you and his daughter could be friends.” Probably a mistake to say so, but she felt like she should make the push. No matter what happened between Jack and her, she didn’t want their daughters to hate each other.
Carmen looked surprised. “We are friends. I thought you knew?”
“That’s news to me. Las
t I heard you two couldn’t stand each other.”
Carmen put her hands on her hips and gave Maya the look that every mother of a teenage girl was familiar with. The one that said, ‘Mothers are so clueless.’ “Mom, that was so last week. Gina’s really sweet.”
“Really? Well the other day you said she was a snot. What changed?”
“Some of the other girls were giving me a hard time about, um, well, you know. The potluck? When I swelled up? In front of Kevin?”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that, honey. But I’m sure Kevin didn’t think a thing about it.” Except Maya knew that wasn’t true. She’d seen the boy take off like he was running from the Zombie Apocalypse.
“Yes, he did. He ran away. And then, at school he made fun of me too. I wanted to die, right there,” she said dramatically. “But Gina had come over and heard them and she told them to get a life and she hoped they had an allergic reaction one day, and then they’d know what it was like.”
“That’s nice that she stuck up for you.”
Carmen nodded. “And she told Kevin he was a lame ass—I mean, butt—and told me I shouldn’t pay attention to him. I thought she liked him, but she said not anymore.”
“She sounds like a smart girl.”
“Yeah. And I told her what Kevin did to me at the movie and she thinks he’s a big fat jerk. Which he is.” Carmen went off to call Mattie.
Teenagers, Maya thought. They changed not only by the day, but sometimes by the hour.
She started to hang up the clothes strewn over the bed when it hit her. Carmen and Gina were both going to the slumber party. They’d be gone all night. And she had a date with Jack.
Maya pressed her hand to her stomach. Butterflies? Really? How old are you?
“I thought we’d go to Rocco’s,” Jack said when he picked up Maya later that evening. “You like Italian, don’t you?”
“Love it,” Maya said. “But are you sure we can get in? It’s Saturday night, after all.”
“I made a reservation.” Which hadn’t been easy. He’d bribed the hostess with the promise of a date with his brother Wyatt. Luckily, she hadn’t wanted a date with Dylan, because no amount of threats or coercion could make Dylan go on a date arranged by someone else. Wyatt was more easy-going. Not to mention, Jack hadn’t yet collected his winnings from Wyatt for the last poker game they’d played with the guys, so he could hold that debt over his brother’s head if he gave him any grief.
When they arrived at the restaurant, he helped Maya out of her jacket and had to remind himself to breathe. She wore a belted grayish-silver sweater dress that hit her mid-thigh and another pair of those sexy high-heeled boots she favored. The dress hugged her curves, with a wide neckline that dipped just low enough to show tantalizing glimpses of creamy skin. With the boots and the short dress, her legs looked a million mouth-watering miles long.
She was trying to kill him. And she was succeeding.
“Is the hostess another person who always seats you and your dates in a romantic, out-of-the-way corner?” Maya asked after she slid into the dark red leather booth. Red candles flickered and dripped in the straw bottomed wine bottles. The high backs of the booth shut out the other diners and muted much of the ambient noise, leaving them in a cozy, intimate setting. The beautiful mural of Tuscany with its pastel golds, greens and blues on the wall beside them added to the romance of it all. A waterfall was nearby, the faint sounds of trickling water adding gentle notes to the instrumental music playing softly in the background.
“No. I asked for it.”
Their eyes met and they both smiled. “We’re moving awfully fast, aren’t we?” she asked after a moment.
“Not yet.” He reached for her hand over the red and white checked tablecloth. Maya turned hers over, so that they were palm to palm. “But I’d like to.”
Before Maya could speak, the waitress came to take their order. “They have a Chianti here that I really like.” Jack told Maya releasing her hand. “Would you like a glass?”
“Yes, that sounds good. I haven’t looked at the menu yet,” she told the waitress apologetically.
Jack ordered their wine and the waitress went off to get it.
Maya studied the menu. “I’m going to have the Portobello ravioli. Have you had it?”
“No, but I’ve heard that it’s good. I usually get Lasagna. I always think I’ll order something else, but the Lasagna is so good I end up getting it nearly every time.”
They ordered dinner and sipped their wine, sharing an appetizer of crab cakes.
“What happened to the adventurous boy I knew?” Maya asked. “You ordered Lasagna. Everyone orders Lasagna at an Italian restaurant.”
“I save my adventurous nature for other things,” he said, lifting an eyebrow and giving her a suggestive smile.
Maya laughed. “Oh, please, tell me you didn’t say that.”
He lifted a shoulder. “I’m out of practice.”
“Apparently so,” she said, obviously teasing.
If you only knew how true that statement really is, Jack thought.
Later, during dinner, Maya asked him, “Do you still play the guitar?”
“Sometimes.” Not very often since Brianna had died. It wasn’t until the last year or so that he’d begun to play again. He even sang a little occasionally, though his voice was even rustier than his guitar playing skills. “What brought that up?”
“The music.” She smiled. “Do you recognize the song playing?”
“Of course. An instrumental version of Clint Black’s ‘State of Mind.’”
“It’s a pretty song.” Eyes dreamy, she sighed. “Songs really do bring back memories. You used to sing that when we were in high school, remember? I always wanted you to sing it to me, but you never did.”
“As I recall, you liked Clint better. He was the one you really wanted to sing to you.”
“I never said that,” she said indignantly. “I always thought you were great.”
He held up a hand. “Please. You plugged in that cassette every time you got in my car.”
“I did have a thing for Clint Black,” she admitted. “But so did all my friends. After the fiftieth time or so, you refused to let me play that tape in your car.” She laughed. “But at least you gave it to me, instead of pitching it out the car window like you threatened at first.”
“I knew better. I just liked to tease you.”
“We had fun, didn’t we?”
“We did.” He held her hand and wished she was closer. “But now we have the best of both worlds. Past and present.”
“With a long gap in between,” she added. They were quiet a moment, listening to the fading notes of the song. “Jack?”
“Hmm.” He carried her hand to his mouth and kissed the pulse beating at her wrist.
“I’m really liking the now.”
Her skin was soft, like running his hands over silk. Jack imagined that all of her skin felt that way. “I am too.” He kissed his way up her arm, smiling when he heard her draw in a sharp breath.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I thought that was obvious,” he said, amused.
“You’re kissing my arm.”
“Yes. If we weren’t in a restaurant I’d be kissing other parts of you.” He raised his head and smiled at her.
Her lips curved into a smile. “Then what are we waiting for?” she asked.
Jack took her to his house. It was closer by a couple of minutes. At the moment, that seemed like too much longer to wait. He kissed her in his SUV. They made it into the house before they started ripping off each other’s clothes. At the door, he kissed her again. Once inside, he backed her up against the wall and kissed her like he’d wanted to since the night before. Only this time was better, because he knew they weren’t going to stop.
He slid his tongue in her mouth, explored it, tangled tongues with her. With their mouths still fused together, he cupped her breasts in his hands, sighed, breathed in her
scent. Light. A little spicy. A lot sexy. Her breasts were lushly perfect and he wanted her naked, now.
Maya put her arms around his neck and pressed up against him. He put his arms around her and cupped her rear, slowly raising the dress. Maya raised her leg, wrapping it around his hips to pull him closer. Hands under her dress, he slid one hand up her leg and over her bare skin. He kept going until he reached the smooth skin of her butt, caressing it with both hands. Bare skin. Oh, God, she was wearing a thong.
Maya untied the belt at her waist, letting it fall to the ground. “Take off your shirt,” she said huskily, attacking the buttons. When she finished, he slipped it off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. He wanted to take her up against the wall, on the table, on the floor. But even more, he wanted her in his bed.
“You can’t carry me,” she said when he scooped her up in his arms. “I’m too heavy.”
Jack laughed. “Not in this lifetime, honey.”
In his bedroom, he set her down and pulled her dress up over her head and off. Jack gazed at her and nearly swallowed his tongue. She wore a low-cut peach bra, peach thong panties, and high heeled black boots that came up just over her knees. He felt his brain short circuit, barely aware of her soft laugh.
Maya put a foot on his bed and began to unzip the boot. “Oh, no you don’t,” he said. “That’s my job.” Slowly, carefully, he drew the zipper down, kissing the skin as it was revealed, drawing the boot off and tossing it aside. He repeated the process with the other boot.
She helped him unzip his pants, push them down and off, his boxers following. He helped her take off her bra and panties and then they were on his bed and he was holding her in his arms, skin to skin, mouth to mouth, sex to sex. He kissed her mouth, her neck, her breasts, her belly. Kissed those long gorgeous legs he’d dreamed of wrapped around him. He pulled a condom out of his bedside table drawer, one of the boxes his brother Dylan had given him months ago, telling him to go get laid again before he drove everyone crazy.
