Wagering Home

by C. M. Boers

  His car smelled exactly like his spiced scent mixed with leather. Never would I have thought anything mixed with the strong smell of leather would smell this good, but it did.

  “Where to?”

  My stomach didn’t seem to know how to feel sitting this close to him. It wanted to lurch with excitement, but then somehow it would drop again with the realization of how complicated this could be.

  “Go to the coffeehouse. My house is on the other end.”

  “On the same strip? With all the businesses?”

  “Yep.”

  “I didn’t realize anyone had bought that place. Pretty rundown, isn’t it?”

  “It was. Not so much anymore.”

  “Right, the hardware store. Are you doing all the work by yourself?”

  “I am.”

  “Wow. She’s good with filing, phones, and construction. A woman of many talents.”

  I laughed. “The Internet can teach you anything.”

  “How very true. You’ll have to show me all the work you’ve done sometime. I might have a thing or two to learn from you.”

  “Ha! I don’t know about that.”

  For a few minutes, the only sound that filled the car was the occasional blinker click. My stomach twisted a little tighter, feeling the pressure to say something. Anything.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Silence broken. “Sure.”

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  “What?” I turned to look at him.

  “Well, I have to know if that’s why you’re so against a date.”

  I turned away fast to avoid him seeing the smile that deceived me. The flutters were back, tickling my overly stimulated insides. “No. I don’t.”

  “But really, what is the reason?”

  “It’s a long story.” I thought of Jeremy. I thought of everything that led me to this point, to being here in the first place. “Not to mention, you’re my boss.”

  “We’ve still got one more block. I’ll drive slowly. And for the record, the boss thing—not an issue.”

  “Fine, let’s just say I’ve got a past I’m not over yet.”

  “Mysterious . . . a recent broken leg, a need to get away, and not wanting to date anyone. Someday, you’ll have to tell me the whole story.”

  “Someday . . .” I looked out the window, trying to avoid his gaze.

  He stopped in front of my darkened house and shut off the engine.

  The finality of the silence without the rumble of the engine and distant hum of the music to distract me fueled my wandering thoughts. Would he get out? Would he walk me to my door? What did I even call him?

  “Um . . . should I call you Jack or J.R.?” The thought burst from my lips before I could figure out if it was even a good idea to ask.

  He chuckled. “You can call me whatever you’d like. But let’s just not spread it around who J.R. really is.”

  “Got it. Thanks for the ride.”

  “Not a problem.” He opened his door.

  I stepped out, turned, and he was already waiting there. “Whoa. You moved fast. What are you doing?”

  “Walking you to your door.” His eyebrows raised. “Is that okay?”

  “Oh. Yeah. Of course.”

  He shut the passenger door for me, and I heard the beep of his horn. He followed me up the stairs leading to the door. The warmth of his body blocked the cold wind momentarily, and I shivered. My heart picked up speed, feeling him so close behind me. I used my keys to unlock the door and tried to keep my thoughts focused on the task at hand: Getting inside without doing something stupid.

  “Do you have jumper cables?”

  “Uh. I think I might somewhere. I’ll have to look.”

  The polite, always proper girl I tended to be wanted to invite him in, like I was sure my mother would have, or at least I thought she might—I couldn’t actually remember if that was something she would do. And then there was the other part of me, the part that suddenly couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like to just let go. Forget for a while that I was some damaged girl who carried too many complications with her, and just invite him in. Throw caution to the wind, forget he was my boss, and just live.

  “Do you want to come in?” I found myself saying. A knot formed my throat at my mouth’s betrayal.

  He gave a half-smile. “No. I should get home. It’s late, but I will take you up on that some other time.”

  “Okay.”

  The heat of his body so close to mine sent goose bumps down my arms and legs. My resolve to keep this professional weakened just a little bit more.

  “What time should I come back in the morning?”

  “I can be ready anytime, just tell me when to be ready. You’re doing me a huge favor.”

  He pulled his phone from his pocket and held it out to me.

  I shot him a questioning glance.

  “Your number?”

  I reached to take it, and my fingers brushed his as he pulled his hand away. He quickly shoved his hand back into his pocket.

  “Guess you didn’t need fate after all.” I pursed my lips at his smiling face.

  “I don’t know. This kind of feels like fate.”

  My hand shook as I dialed my own number and followed the steps to add it to his contacts. With the press of a button, his screen went dark again.

  “I’ll probably be headed to the office around eight-thirty. It’s kind of early, but I’ve got a conference call at nine o’clock I can’t get out of. Is that okay?”

  “Are you kidding? You’re doing me a favor. I’ll be ready when you need me to be.”

  “I’ll call you when I’m headed over. Is that enough notice?”

  “Yeah.”

  My hand settled into the palm of his, the hard plastic and glass the only things separating our skin. I took a compulsory step forward. My hand shifted, causing the phone to drop, and it tumbled to the ground.

  “I’m sorry!” I bent quickly to retrieve it. I clutched it tight in my hand and stood up so fast, my head collided with his.

  “Ow,” we said in unison.

  He was still slightly bent over.

  “I’m so sorry!”

  He chuckled, rubbing his forehead while the back of my head ached. “Don’t worry about it.”

  I pressed the phone into his hand and looked up to him to make sure he had it.

  My eyes closed, cursing myself for being so klutzy.

  The warmth of his breath tickled my skin, sending desire through me. The burning hunger to close the distance between us and press my lips to his filled me with such an urgency. The fear that I couldn’t stop myself plagued my mind, and I stumbled backwards like I’d touched something hot.

  “Whoa.” Jack grabbed my arm to keep me from falling. “You okay?”

  I nodded fast. “Oh yeah, I’m fine.” Just a bumbling fool, that’s all.

  His face registered confusion, but only for a fleeting moment. “I should go.” He looked towards his car. “See you in the morning?”

  I nodded, and he strode away.

  I let my head fall back against the door and closed my eyes.

  What the heck was that?

  My hands still shook, long after I’d heard his car pull away. I chugged a glass of water, hoping it would help my restless body. Marching upstairs to bed, I hoped my mind would settle long enough to allow sleep to take me away from this mess.

  Sunlight streamed through my bedroom window, waking me far sooner than I would have liked. Yawning, I rolled over, trying to block it out, when the memory of the night before came back to me. I thought about the time Jack and I spent together over the weekend. Being here had given me peace, but being with him had given me fun in that peace. Something I hadn’t known I was missing, and now it was all I could think about.

  I rolled out of bed, knowing I wasn’t going to fall back to sleep now, and I needed to search for the jumper cables anyway.

  I threw on my slippers and t
rudged down to the garage, the only place I had boxes left, and there weren’t many.

  One glance into the first one, and I knew the cables weren’t there. It was filled with clothes I’d brought for winter; a huge puffy jacket, in particular. The next box was all kinds of random things I didn’t even know why I’d packed. A couple photo albums I didn’t remember anything from, some cords I wasn’t sure what they went to and couldn’t leave them behind, just in case, and a bunch of pens and pencils, but no jumper cables.

  Great.

  I’d hoped to be less of an inconvenience, yet now I didn’t have a way to get the car started. I’d have to find another way. There had to be someone else I could call for this.

  Think, Melanie.

  A tow truck? They could do that type of thing, right? I’d have to call for one once I got to work.

  My phone rang. I could hear it from in the garage. I dashed into the house, leaving the boxes open where they lay. I reached it just as the ringing stopped. The number was unfamiliar, but I figured it was Jack.

  I called back right away, and he picked up on the first ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Melanie. Sorry, I was in the garage.”

  “Oh, good. I thought I might have woken you.”

  “Nope.”

  “I’m headed that way. Are you ready?”

  “I’ll make sure I am.”

  “See you in a few.”

  With that, I heard a click on the line and rushed upstairs.

  Fifteen minutes later, the doorbell rang just as I was putting on the last bit of lip gloss.

  I slipped on my shoes and ran down the stairs, stumbling briefly when my feet hit the landing.

  “Oomph.”

  I yanked open the door. “Hey.”

  “Good morning,” he said.

  “Come in. Let me grab my purse.” I darted for the living room, where I’d tossed it from the stairs the night before. A few things had spilled out on the floor. I dropped to my knee and scooped it all up in one swift move.

  Jack’s footsteps echoed behind me on the wood floor. “This place is really nice.”

  “Thanks. It’s nice and small for me.”

  “What changes have you made?” He stepped in further, turning around to look at everything.

  “Ah . . . I painted most of the downstairs. I’m still working on that. I’m refinishing the stairs too. Still have a lot of work to do on them.” I looked around, ticking each of the things off on my fingers. “I haven’t touched the kitchen yet. I plan to refinish the cabinets.”

  “Wow, it looks great. Anything upstairs?”

  My eyes followed his up the staircase, and my nerves shot into my stomach just thinking of him being in my bedroom.

  “Nope, nothing up there yet.” I hovered in the doorway. “Should we go?”

  He took one last look around and followed me out. He didn’t wait for me to lock up, but by the time I got to the car, my door was open, and he was already behind the wheel.

  “I picked up some jumper cables on my way over, just in case.”

  “Oh my gosh, you’re a lifesaver. I couldn’t find any this morning. I was going to call a tow truck when we got to the office.”

  “Oh no. I’d never let you do that.”

  “I’ll pay you back.”

  “No.” He waved me off. “I should have some in my car anyway.”

  “I probably should too.” I still planned to pay him for them somehow. My problems should not be costing him money, it’s bad enough they’re taking up his time. Though, I had a feeling he wouldn’t be willing to take my money.

  He pulled in next to my car, keeping the front end as close to mine as possible.

  “Keys?”

  I handed them to him and let him go to work. I had no idea what I was doing, and by the way he moved between the two cars, he did. I watched him clamp the cables to each of the batteries, the muscle in his forearm bulging each time. Momentarily, all I could think of was what he’d look like with his shirt off, sweat running down over his chiseled abs as he bent over my car.

  I shook myself. What was wrong with me? I was turning into Grace, man hungry.

  Within minutes, my car finally turned over.

  “Yes! Thank you so much.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. We’ll see if it starts later when you’re ready to leave.”

  I didn’t know what that meant, so I took his word for it and hoped it would.

  He let it run for a few minutes as he disconnected the cables and closed both hoods, then he shut them off and handed me the keys.

  A car pulled in beside us as I turned to head inside, the window rolled down. A middle-aged bald man sat in the driver’s seat. “Jack?”

  “That’s me,” Jack said.

  The man turned to the passenger seat and lifted a bag to Jack’s hand.

  “Thanks, man.”

  “Anytime. Enjoy, sir.” The man rolled up the window and drove away.

  “Hungry?” Jack asked.

  I nodded, remembering I’d skipped eating in my haste to get out the door.

  “Good. I think I’ve got enough for ten.” He laughed.

  “Well, I hope Cindy’s here, then.”

  “Oh, she is. Always is. Every morning at seven a.m. without fail.”

  I followed him inside and went to my desk, like every morning, but Jack stopped and turned to me. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting to work.” I lifted a couple files from the desk.

  He shook his head. “Food first.” He tipped his head towards his office, urging me to follow, and kept walking.

  I heard him greet Cindy, and I smoothed my shirt before heading that way, grateful for her to be a buffer against my thoughts of him outside of the office.

  She was seated at the desk inside his office, a folder open in front of her. She looked up at me, her face unreadable beyond surprise that was evident. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was because she didn’t expect me in here, or if she figured we’d arrived together.

  I worried she didn’t think I belonged back here with them, and if I was being honest, I probably didn’t. Nothing I’d been thinking about Jack had been professional.

  “Good morning,” I said.

  “Morning.”

  Jack gestured to the food. “Grab what you’d like, Melanie. Make yourself at home on the couch.”

  He sat down at his desk and started eating while he thumbed through a folder waiting for him. There were multiple colorful tabs that stuck out at different spots he paid closer attention to. Was that one of the things Cindy did for him?

  I grabbed a breakfast burrito from the top.

  Silence fell on the room while everyone ate, Jack and Cindy both engrossed in their work. It was strange being there with nothing to busy myself with outside of the food in front of me, when Jack dropped the folder back to his desk and turned to me, smiling.

  His eyes never left mine as he spoke to Cindy. “How was your dinner party?”

  She glanced up from what she was doing. “Oh, it was fine. My mother-in-law kept staring at my stomach though, as if I’d put on weight or something.”

  Jack chuckled. “Of course you haven’t. Maybe she’s just hoping for grandchildren.”

  Cindy shuddered. “That woman would drive me crazy if I were pregnant.”

  “Is she terribly involved?” I asked. I knew a thing or two about feeling like you were under a microscope, and I hated it.

  “Yes! Most of the time, it’s fine, she’s sweet, but sometimes I just want some space. Goodness. I can’t even imagine when we decide to have kids. She’ll probably move in so she can clean my house for me, so I don’t have to lift a finger.”

  “Well, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Jack said.

  “The cleaning part, no. Her being there twenty-four-seven, bad. Very bad.”

  I pushed the last of my burrito in my mouth and stood. “I should get to work.”

  Jack looked as if he was going to argue, wh
en Cindy pointed to a stack at the corner of his desk. “That one is ready for you.”

  I nodded, grabbing it and leaving his office without another glance in Jack’s direction.

  It felt good to get out of there. The electric buzz between me and Jack was stifling when Cindy sat there, never the wiser. I wondered if Jack felt it too, then I cursed myself for letting my mind go there once again.

  That afternoon, I followed Cindy out.

  “Thanks again for covering for me last night.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t a problem at all.”

  “I just feel terrible that after covering for me, your car wouldn’t start. What a day for that to happen.”

  “It happens. Hopefully, it’ll start now.”

  “You aren’t sure it will?” Cindy asked.

  “Jack . . . err . . . J.R. said he wasn’t sure it would.”

  “Do you want me to wait with you, in case it doesn’t?”

  “Oh, no.” I shook my head. “Go on. I’ll just call a tow truck if I need to.”

  “All right. See you tomorrow.” She waved and got into her car.

  I unlocked the door and took a deep breath. “Come on, baby, start.” I turned the key.

  Nothing.

  I tried three more times out of desperation. Dead.

  I sighed.

  Locking the car, I headed back inside, where I knew Jack was still working. Dropping my purse on my desk, I pulled out my phone and called the first five-star rated tow truck service I came across.

  A gruff man picked up on the third ring. “Al’s towing. What can I do for ya?”

  “Hi, I’m looking for someone who can tow my car to the shop.”

  “Do you have one already in mind?”

  “Oh, uh . . . I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Is it okay if I figure that out while I wait?”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Melanie?” Jack came out of his office, looking confused. “I thought you left.”

  “We charge fifty dollars for the first twenty miles and a dollar twenty-five per mile after,” the man said in my ear.

  I nodded, listening.

  “What are you doing?” Jack whispered next to me. I could tell he was trying to hear what was being said.

  “That sounds fine.” I held a finger up to Jack and mouthed, “Tow truck.”

  “Alrighty then, I just need to know where I’m sending the truck, and what kind of car.”