“Very funny,” Jennica replied quickly. Maybe this was a bad idea. It was okay when she teased Jack about his beard, but hearing Astrid do it made her feel oddly protective, like they were making fun of him when he wasn’t there to defend himself. She rushed ahead. “Sorry for the late notice, but he said we could come over tonight. Are you free?”
“Over? Like, to his house over?”
“He didn’t want to go into the salon,” Jennica replied. Actually, she hadn’t asked Jack about going to the salon. The idea of him in the beauty parlor seemed too weird, like putting a grizzly bear in a jewelry shop. Besides, trimming down a man’s beard was a big deal, and she was sure he wouldn’t want to do it in front of a crowd. “I can pick you up,” she offered.
“Sure,” Astrid agreed easily. “I was planning to spend the night with Netflix and Nabisco, but this will be much more interesting.” There was a pause. “Jack Hale … really? I never even considered you two as a couple.”
“We’re not a couple,” Jennica said. But the thought sent a zing through her, a string of excitement she hadn’t felt in a long time. Or maybe not ever. It was hard to separate what she’d felt for Josh in the beginning from what she felt for Jack now. Had there been this same lightness, this same heat? She couldn’t remember.
“I’ll pick you up at nine,” she told Astrid quickly. “Thanks for your help.”
“You got it,” her friend promised.
After work, Jennica prowled the aisles of Lee’s grocery store, looking for … what? She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t want to show up at Jack’s house empty-handed.
She hadn’t expected him to agree to a full makeover. At best, she’d hoped he’d trim the beard and at least make it symmetrical. The idea of giving Jack a makeover brought a strange tingling to her belly, sort of a forbidden thrill.
Which was completely silly, of course. It was just a beard.
But still, he was giving up a lot for her; the least she could do was bring some good snacks.
She tried to think what kinds of junk foods her brothers had liked. Unlike her and her sisters, the boys had preferred savory and salty over sugary. No chocolate? What was that about? In the end, she grabbed several bags and boxes from the shelves and hurried to check out, wondering what the heck she was doing and why it suddenly mattered so much.
Jack opened the door to find Jennica on the porch, laden with grocery bags. A girl he assumed to be Astrid stood slightly behind her, curiosity sparking in her eyes.
“Whoa. You moving in, or what?” He reached to take several of the bags from Jennica and led the way to the kitchen.
“No, dork,” she replied. “But I didn’t know what kind of snacks you’d like. This is Astrid,” she said. “Astrid, you remember Jack?”
Now that he saw her, Jack knew who Astrid was in that small-town way you pretty much knew everyone. He’d seen her around town, but he’d never spoken to her. Astrid’s long, straight hair was dyed an icy blue, and her huge black eyes were framed with heavy eyeliner and what were obviously fake eyelashes. She was pretty, but he liked the more down-to-earth version of Jennica’s beauty. It seemed warmer, friendlier.
“Hey,” Astrid said by way of greeting. She was also lugging several bags, but hers were sturdy canvas that made an ominous clanking sound when she moved. Jack was sure they held more than one set of clippers.
Jennica set the bags on the kitchen counter and turned, slightly breathlessly, to look at him. She’d gone home after work to change and wore a plaid button-up of grays and blues that matched her eyes and turned her hair a warm copper. She’d kept the jeans, though, with the blingy pockets that hugged her hips in all the right places. His heart raced with a sudden desire to hook his fingers through the belt loops and pull her towards him.
“So what’s the plan?” He yanked his gaze away from Jennica to survey the two women. “Have you had dinner?”
Jennica’s brow wrinkled. “It’s almost nine-thirty at night. Of course we’ve had dinner. You haven’t?”
He shrugged. “I get busy working and forgot.”
She reached out and poked him in the ribs, sending a dart of energy running up his spine. “No wonder you’re so lean.”
“Hey, who are you calling lean?” He flexed the muscles in his arms, rounded and bulging after all the time at the anvil. “I’ll bet I could beat you in an arm wrestle any day.”
Astrid made a quick shooing motion with her fingers as she unzipped a bag. “Save the flirting for the actual date,” she said. “We’ve got work to do.”
Flirting? Was that what they were doing? Jack bit back a gulp. It’d been so long since he’d flirted with anyone, since he’d even wanted to flirt. He’d practically forgotten how.
Okay, he had forgotten how. The muscle man routine was lame, like he was some kind of high school jock trying to impress the girls.
But Jennica’s laughter didn’t feel lame. Neither did the sparkle in her azure eyes as she winked at him. Something stirred in his gut, something coming back to life.
Astrid was all business. “Jack, why don’t you eat something while I finish unpacking, and then we’ll get started?” She started pulling plastic boxes from the bag and stacking them on the table.
“I might lose my appetite once I see what you plan to do to me.” Jack ran his fingers down his beard.
“I promised only a trim,” Jennica broke in.
Astrid turned, hands on her hips, and her eyes narrowed as she looked him over. “I won’t know until I get in there,” she declared.
He took a step back. “Get in there?”
She shrugged and nodded toward his beard. “It’s kind of a mess, you know.”
“Yeah, Jennica told me I looked like Bad Brad Pitt.”
“Nailed it,” Astrid said with a giggle.
Jack winced. “Okay, fine. You can do what you need to do once you get in there, and I will wait to eat until I see the damage.”
“Sounds good to me,” Astrid said, and she resumed unpacking her gear. “It’ll just take me a few more minutes to get set up.”
Jack nodded and turned to Jennica. He didn’t need to lean in to catch the gentle smell of citrus that always seemed to accompany her, but he did anyway, overcome by a craving—almost a need—to be closer to her. There was something about her that made him feel revved up and calmed down all at the same time. Like he’d been out wandering all day in the snowy mountains and finally found a nice warm campfire.
She turned suddenly and their eyes locked, held. The blueness of her eyes overcame him—deep and layered, mostly cornflower-colored but with darker rings around the irises. What kinds of secrets did they hold?
“Do you wear colored contacts?” he blurted.
Jennica shook her head, and a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “No. Why?”
“Your eyes are just so …” He tapered off, feeling the back of his neck warm. He was making a fool out of himself in front of her and in front of Astrid, who seemed like someone who would laugh about it later with her clients.
Jennica shot a glance toward Astrid, and understanding flickered in her eyes. “Can I see your workshop while we’re waiting?”
The tension spilled out of him in a sigh, and he grinned. “Sure.”
His workshop was in a shed he’d built toward the back of the property. The house itself was no gem, a standard modular house that he’d had delivered and assembled within two days. The land was what he’d really wanted.
There was a garage door at the front of the shop, helpful for loading and unloading heavy equipment, but he pulled open the side door for Jennica and flipped on the overhead fluorescents.
Seeing it through her eyes, Jack became aware of just how much of a man cave it was—built purely for function. The machinery was dirty and the concrete floor held a layer of grit. There was dust over everything and the tools were battered and well used.
The forge was off, bringing a rare moment of quiet to the shop. Wooden shelves stood along one wall, hol
ding various pieces of raw steel and the newly acquired box of antlers. He’d put the anvil in the middle of the room and built tool racks to keep the wide array of hammers, tongs, vices, and clamps within reach. The press stood against the wall, near the forge.
Jennica took a long look around and her eyes landed on the press. “Did you get it to work?” she asked.
“Not yet. One of the hydraulic lines is broken. Not a big deal.”
“Sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?”
“I dunno,” she admitted with a small smile. “Just seems like it should work after all this.”
“It was sitting for a long time. I expected those lines to be brittle. It’s not a big deal to replace them. And guess what? Lincoln found some dies for it online and I bought them; they should be here next week.”
“Dies?”
“Plates that go on the press. They help to shape the metal.”
She nodded and turned around curiously. “This is much more involved that I thought it would be. I thought you’d have a fire pit and a hammer and that’s about it.”
He laughed. “I do, in a way. But blacksmithing has come a long way in two hundred years.”
“Obviously.” Her forehead wrinkled. “It’s really cool. Seems like a lot of cost and time for a hobby, though. You should have an online store.”
“I’m not big into the internet,” Jack said.
She threw him a grin. “Yeah, I know.”
It was weird to have Jennica in his workshop. In her jeans and plaid flannel and with her hair still pulled back in the braid, she looked like she could pick up a hammer and join in the fun without thinking twice. He wondered what she’d do if he suggested she try to hammer out a blade.
“Why are you smirking?” Jennica demanded.
“I’m not smirking.” Jack quickly rearranged his face. “When I get the press working, wanna come back and see it in action?”
Her face brightened as she nodded. “Absolutely!”
So now he had a second date with Jennica. Well, not really a date, since it would just be a trip to the shop, but still … he was only going to the wedding with her out of obligation. So why did he just offer up another whole day once he got the press working? And why was he looking forward to it?
They left the shop and he led her to the house, dreading the upcoming makeover, but also feeling strangely buoyant at the thought of Jennica in his house, being able to spend more time together.
The stars were coming out as they crossed the yard, and Jennica fought back the urge to reach out and hold Jack’s hand. She’d already seen they were callused, rough, used to hard work. But when he’d grabbed her hand at Fred’s the other day, she’d learned his hands were also gentle and warm and incredibly strong. The thought of his touch sent tingles racing through her, but she held herself back. This was a fake date; he’d made that clear.
They found Astrid ready and waiting. She’d arranged all her equipment on the kitchen table and had a cape draped over a chair. She sent Jennica an amused grin along with a slightly raised eyebrow that held more questions than she could ever ask.
Jennica returned the look. They’d gone to see the shop—no big deal. Astrid didn’t need to know how mixed up she felt inside, like there was a current of energy running between her and Jack and a few steps closer would make it flare and spark.
“Sit down.” Astrid made an impatient motion toward the chair.
Jack folded himself into the chair with a sigh. Astrid shook out the cape and secured it around his neck, and they both looked at Jennica.
“How much hair are we talking about?” Astrid said.
There was really no way to know without touching it. Jennica gave in to the urge she’d had since he’d come to the store looking for elk antlers. She took a step closer and reached out to run her fingers through his beard. It was mostly dark brown, but mixed with lighter strands of blond and shot with a few lighter, silvery hairs. It was thick and soft and definitely not as wiry as she’d expected. The strands wound between her fingers, and Jack gave a soft, almost involuntary exhale that made her mouth go dry. She raised her other hand and worked those fingers into his beard too, creeping higher, itching to touch the warmth of his skin at his jaw. Standing, he was several inches taller than her, but sitting down, his face was within easy reach.
There was silence as their eyes met, an unexpected intimacy of the situation mingling with the weirdness of being under Astrid’s eagle eye.
“Well?” Astrid pulled her out of the moment.
“Uh …” Jennica drew back and clenched her suddenly shaking hands together. “How about leave a couple of inches?”
A pained wrinkle appeared between Jack’s eyebrows, but he nodded. “That’s okay with me.”
Astrid was all business. “You got it.” She brandished a comb in one hand and scissors in the other and went to work.
Jennica leaned against the counter and looked around. Jack’s house had definitely not received the same time or money investment as his shop. Not that it was bad; it was just very … basic, with cheap oak cabinets, linoleum flooring, and she hadn’t even known builders offered Formica countertops as an option anymore.
She’d guess it was a three-bedroom, two-bath house from the size, but Jack didn’t have enough furniture to even fill one room. The great room held only a sofa and TV, a two-person dining table, and a bookshelf. There weren’t any barstools at the raised counter surrounding the kitchen space. Everything—cabinets, carpets, walls, ceiling, furniture—was shades of muted browns.
A strange sort of sadness filled Jennica. Jack’s house was depressing. She couldn’t imagine living somewhere that didn’t feel homey and inviting. Her grandmother’s house was maybe a bit overdone with old-lady knickknacks and crocheted doilies, but it showed care and concern, showed that someone had made an effort to make it seem comfortable. Jack’s house wasn’t dirty—the carpet looked freshly vacuumed, and there wasn’t any dust on the TV screen. It simply looked … blank.
Jennica pulled her attention back to the makeover and was startled to see Astrid had already snipped off several inches of Jack’s beard.
She cleared her throat. “Do you want a snack? I’ve got chocolate pretzels, licorice, chips, baby carrots …” She trailed off as Jack shook his head slightly.
“I’m good for now, thanks.”
They were silent again except for the whisper of the scissors. A dart of guilt shot through Jennica. This was her doing, after all. She marched over to the table and pulled out a chair. “Most embarrassing moment … go,” she said as she dropped into the seat.
Jack raised his eyebrows. “You mean besides having my beard shaved off?”
“Chill out, Samson, you’ll be fine.” Astrid rolled her eyes.
“Yes, besides that,” Jennica giggled.
“Okay, picture this,” Jack said. “It’s the Tamarack Ridge High JV Basketball playoffs. Our proud Lumberjacks have had a good season, not stellar, but okay, thanks in part to the new center. He’s Jack Hale and he’s only a freshman, but he went through a growth spurt over the summer, so he’s six foot two and showing talent. The varsity coach has taken a special interest in him.”
“Lies,” Jennica cut in. “I went to that high school too, remember? The varsity coach and the JV coach are the same guy.”
“Not a lie,” Jack insisted. “I never said they were different people.”
Astrid laughed. “Fair point.”
“The coach had taken special interest in him: trying to get him to improve his dunk,” Jack insisted.
“A technicality,” Jennica said. “But I’ll allow it.”
“Thank you very much.” Jack nodded, then continued his story. “Like I said, it’s the playoff game—the Tamarack Ridge Lumberjacks against the Louisville Miners. Fourth quarter, the score is tied at fifty-four. The gym is full and everyone is on edge.”
“I don’t remember that game,” Jennica said.
“Well, you were still in
diapers, so …” Jack grinned.
“I was not! But you’re right, I was …” She bit her lip for a moment as she did the math. “If you were a freshman, I would have been in third grade.”
“Wow, way to make a guy feel old.”
“You brought it up,” she said. “And I’m still waiting for something embarrassing.”
“I’ll get there, don’t you worry.” He threw her a sideways look. “So, ten seconds left in the game, score is tied. The point guard for the Miners has the ball. He dribbles down the court, looking for an opening. Jack is at his position, arms up, ready to block the shot.
“Then, the point guard passes to the forward, the Lumberjacks amp up their defense, he’s outnumbered. He panics, shoots, and it goes wide. Jack chases down the rebound, the crowd goes wild.” Jack made the whooshing sound to mimic a cheering crowd.
“Everyone’s on their feet, screaming. The coach is hollering, the team is hollering, Jack knows this is his moment of brilliance. He runs, dribbles, pivots—he’s a superhero, no one can touch him. He sees the basket through the haze of soon-to-be glory. He shoots, and there’s a collective intake as the crowd holds its breath. Then the ball drops and it’s nothing but net.” He stopped, grinning.
“I fail to see what’s embarrassing about that,” Astrid said after a pause.
Jack’s cheeks turned red. “It was the wrong basket,” he admitted. “I got turned around on the floor and my dumb self didn’t listen to everyone yelling corrections at me. I thought they were cheering.”
Jennica burst out laughing. “No! You didn’t.”
“Yep, totally did.” His amber eyes sparkled as he grinned at her. “The Miners won the game, and no one on the team would talk to me for a week.”
“That seems rude,” Jennica said. “It was an honest mistake, and you were, what, like fourteen?”
He shrugged. “I should have been paying attention.”
“So did you go on to play on the varsity team?”
“Yes, but in a very diminished capacity. Tanner Platt came in the year after me, and he was six-five. So he got the center position and I got benched.”
Taming the Mountain Man (Tamarack Ridge Romances Book 3) Page 7
