Nailed

by Jennifer Laurens

  Mandy crushed the tee shirt in two tight fists. She’d had plenty of fights with Marc over the years, and knew his anger patterns as well as she knew how to start a fire from scratch. But the blaze covering his face was already scorching. In two giant steps he had her by the arm and was hauling her to the cab of the truck.

  “Hey!” She finally ripped her elbow free when they were at the door.

  “Get in the truck,” he snapped, opening the door.

  “It’s two hundred degrees in there!” She glanced around, saw that the guy’s heads’ were averted and she lowered her voice. “You’re acting like a retard here.”

  “Well it’s five hundred degrees out here with you in your wet bathing suit.” He leaned close, sending her back against the hot steel of the car. She screeched. Concern flashed over his face and he turned her around for a look at her back. “Jeeze. You okay?”

  She batted away his hands. “I’m fine. Fine. What’s with you?”

  “I just…I don’t like those guys looking at you.”

  “Nobody was looking, Marc.” She yanked the tee shirt over her head.

  “Guys always look,” he said, keeping his voice between them. “Put a beautiful woman in front of their faces and they start drooling. It’s automatic, Mand. Like pressing a button and turning on the coffee maker.”

  He looked so worried, Mandy almost laughed, but she couldn’t. He’d shove her in the car. He’d called her beautiful. He’d never done that before. She reached out and patted his face. “Thanks, but I can take care of myself.”

  A smile creased his lips. “I know. You’re not a kid anymore. I’m just telling you, be careful.”

  “Have I ever been anything else?” She tilted her head. The guys were done drinking water and she could tell by the way Larry shifted his feet and loudly sighed, they were anxious to be on their way.

  “You’re in a whole new world here, Mand.” Marc stepped back, dug in his pocket and got out his keys.

  “Sounds like a song I once heard,” she teased, starting toward the truck bed.

  “But this isn’t Disneyland,” Marc called to her. She pulled herself up and into the back hoping he’d get the message that she was going to ride there and not in the cab. He got into the cab without saying anything more.

  Mandy sat down on the cool bed liner and stretched out, resting her head against the wheel indentation. A bridge had just been crossed, and it felt good to be on the other side. She and Marc had been at odds, fighting their way across the wobbly conduit for some time now. She breathed in a contented breath.

  The truck shimmied as the rest of the guys took their places, and the motion rocked her into a peaceful relaxed state that could carry her into sleep if she let it.

  The diesel engine roared, then growled low and steady when the truck started off.

  The feeling that she was being watched had her opening her eyes and looking into A.J.’s cool, green gaze. He sat across the truck bed, arms stretched out, legs extended, his legs nearly side-to-side with hers. He’d taken off his red bandana, and now his caramel-colored hair was mussed from the wind. The corners of his mouth lifted slow and easy.

  “Tired?” he asked over the engine’s hum She sat up, blinked, and looked at the backs of Marc, Larry and Boston’s heads in the cab. “A little.”

  “Too tired to hang out?”

  She looked at him—at the man across from her.

  Definitely a man. Older, wiser. His face, his body, every part of him that much more etched by life than any of the boys she’d hung out with. Her decisions had always been driven by curiosity, but this step was in uncharted territory, just like Marc had said. She wasn’t in Disneyland.

  “With you?”

  He gave her a heavy blink. “You okay with that?”

  Her throat closed suddenly, so she nodded, then swallowed. “Sure. Of course. It’d be fun.”

  “Good.”

  Mandy’s insides scrambled and a chill spread under her skin. It wasn’t like she was worried. Or afraid. It wasn’t about being in danger or anything like that. A.J. was a gentleman, had manners, and knew how to treat a woman; he’d demonstrated that more than once now.

  Conversation wasn’t a problem when you could see where you stood in the safe confines of a framed room.

  But they’d be alone, not at some loud, crowded bowling alley hanging in a group like she was accustomed to, because that’s not what men and women did. You graduated from hanging in groups to going solo, that was the point.

  Like going to Italy to study the Parthenon. Alone.

  chapter nine

  When the truck idled to a stop back at the home office, A.J. got out first and held his hand up for Mandy so she could disembark with finesse. She had to admit she liked the girly treatment after a long day of sweat and raunchy talk. The guys spilled out of the cab just in time to witness the gentlemanly gesture.

  Not only was Boston tuned in, but Mandy knew darned well that Marc’s brother antenna was cranked up as well.

  “So, tonight?” A.J. reached into his pocket for his keys.

  Mandy nodded. “Sure.”

  “Anybody gonna need their belts over the weekend?” Marc asked. Nobody said yes, each gathering their personal possessions and heading to their cars.

  Mandy snuck a glance at Boston, curious whether or not he’d reacted one way or the other to A.J.’s invite.

  His determined, cool façade was perfectly in place, she noticed. She ignored a pinch of disappointment. It was better that way. The very real fact was that he probably didn’t care one way or the other, they were just fellow workers. Friends.

  “Eight?” A.J. asked. He walked alongside her toward the other Homes by Haynes truck she and Marc had driven from home. Mandy appreciated that Marc was taking his time coming over, allowing them some privacy.

  “Eight’d be great,” she said, then she gave him her address.

  A.J. backed to his car, jingling his keys in his hands.

  “See you then.”

  Boston slammed the door of his older pickup truck and started the engine. From across the parking lot, Larry shouted to Marc. “Dude, we on for tonight?”

  Marc nodded back. “Yeah. Ten?”

  “Right on.” Larry dipped into his old, beat up red Mustang and tore out of the parking lot.

  Mandy climbed into the truck and looked out the window, her lower lip between her teeth. Boston. Well, at least he knew she was desirable, even if he wasn’t interested. In high school she might have relished the opportunity to make somebody jealous, but she saw that for the childish, hurtful act that it really was now. An act that wouldn’t bring any pleasure to her, bruising an already beaten heart.

  Marc got in and shut the door. They drove in silence for a while, not even the radio in the background, and Mandy waited for him to lay into her about A.J. When he didn’t, she wondered if she’d made a mistake, accepting A.J.’s invitation, and now Marc was going to sit back and watch her crash and burn enjoying her first tumble in the adult world of men.

  “How come you’re not ragging on me?” she finally asked, still peering out the window.

  “Because you’re a big girl, you can make your own decisions.”

  “Okay, but, what was all this stuff earlier about being careful.”

  “It was me giving you my two cents.”

  “You think A.J.’s okay?” She looked over then, and waited.

  His gaze met hers and even in the darkening night, the reassurance she was hoping for was on his face.

  “Think I’d be sitting here all calm if he wasn’t?”

  Mandy smiled. “If he was Larry?”

  Marc laughed and shook his head. “We wouldn’t even be having this conversation if it was Larry.”

  It was true and Mandy’s laugh joined his.

  “But I kinda thought you and Boston,” Marc said.

  “Nah,” Mandy lied. Marc had probably placed his money on Boston caving sooner than later, and caving from her advances. If he ha
d, it wouldn’t be him taking home the pot if Boston finally broke.

  Not that money had anything to do with her decision. She could care less. It was the principle of the idea. Boston’s principles specifically, which she wanted to protect and respect.

  Marc scrubbed his jaw with his free hand. “I thought the two of you were hitting it off.”

  “Guess I’m not the only one who has a lot to learn.”

  “Guess not,” he mumbled, pulling into the driveway.

  Mandy decided on a lightweight halter sundress with strawberries all over it. Red, jeweled flip flops were the shoe of choice, along with dangling silver earrings.

  She wore her blond hair down, not bothering to straighten the natural soft waves. The burn she’d acquired that day was pink and tender, and looked as painful as it was becoming. She’d had enough sunburns to know that they intensified as the hours progressed.

  At eight, she heard the doorbell, then the low rumble of male voices: Marc and A.J.

  Bubbles popped in her stomach as she took the stairs down. She blinked at the man standing in the entry.

  Dressed in dark slacks and a silky white shirt, hair neatly mussed with gel, A.J. looked like he’d just jumped off the pages of that Esquire magazine she’d seen him reading at the bookstore. Whatever cologne he was wearing filled the air with a delicious, spicy scent. His teeth gleamed against his burnished skin.

  He turned, his gaze locked on hers. “Hey, there she is. Wow. You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” If he’d been any of the guys she’d gone out with in high school, she’d slug him in the arm with a good natured snort. But everything about A.J.

  lifted her to another place, as if he was on the second floor of the house they were framing, reaching out to pick her up and everything silly and inconsequential would slough away in that one, fast, motion.

  “So,” Marc nodded, “you guys have fun.”

  Just like that, A.J.’s hand was there at her waist, gently escorting her to the front door. “See ya,” he said.

  “Bye, Marc.” Mandy took the cue and allowed A.J.

  to escort her out. The door shut softly behind them. He didn’t keep his hand at her back after that, it slid down to his side and they walked together to his car.

  “Great house,” he said with a look around. “But then I’d expect as much for a builder.”

  “Dad built it on spec.” She was glad to have something to talk about. He opened the door of his vintage silver Audi, the gesture a first for her. She reminded herself that this was a man who had grown up with sisters.

  The car soon filled with everything masculine about him. His smile lit up the dark space. His laugh drowned out the lazy jazz CD taunting the mood in the background, and his cologne snuck on her every breath. Mandy had never had a guy listen so attentively to everything she said, as if she was the most fascinating person on the face of the planet.

  Before she knew it, they were downtown at Osaka, a Japanese restaurant. Once again, he got out and opened her door extending his hand so getting out was not only effortless, but looked good.

  Again his hand was at her back, and she felt his rough fingertips through the shear sundress. “You like Japanese food?” he asked. The scent of fried food lingered in the night air. Mandy’s stomach responded with a low growl.

  Everything was dream like: the kind treatment, the balmy evening, the handsome man. Her mind was bedazzled and she nodded. “Sure.”

  • • • • •

  They ate sushi and tempura. Both drank virgin strawberry daiquiris and talked their way through every subject from the pros of two-by-six versus two-by-four construction, to Mandy’s career, to A.J.’s social life.

  Mandy stirred what was left of her daiquiri with the tiny paper umbrella that had come perched in the drink.

  The evening had done nothing but impress her with the man sitting across from her. She couldn’t imagine why he was single.

  “So, do you date regularly?” she asked, enjoying that his eyes twinkled with amusement.

  “I date enough. Why?”

  “You’re just so…settled.”

  “What makes you think I’m settled?”

  “Well, you’ve got a good job. You have a nice car.

  I’ll bet you own a house. And you’re twenty….twenty….

  how old are you, anyway?”

  “Take a guess.”

  “Don’t make me do that, please. I hate offending people when I guess wrong.”

  “Men don’t get offended by that, baby doll. Take a guess.”

  Mandy’s face twisted. “Twenty-eight?”

  “Twenty-seven.”

  “And you’re twenty-seven.”

  “So because I’m old, I should be married?”

  “You’re not old and you don’t have to be married.”

  Heat rushed to Mandy’s cheeks. “I’m not the kind to tell other people what they should and shouldn’t do.”

  A.J. leaned forward, his forearms resting on the table, his amused expression electric as his gaze held hers. “That’s just one of the things that makes you so irresistible.”

  A tingle slid down Mandy’s spine. She’d never been told she was irresistible before. “Well, I figure everybody’s got a right to make their own decisions and live their own life. I mean, I wouldn’t want someone telling me what to do. I get plenty of that from Marc.”

  A.J. reached for his water glass and flicked his wrist so the ice cubes jangled. “He’s just looking out for you.

  My older sisters did the same for me.”

  “I know he is.”

  “He’d be crazy not to.” He tipped back the last bit of water in his glass then set it down.

  “Four sisters did you say?” She leaned on her elbows, her hands clasped at her chin. “No wonder you’re so smooth.” Mandy cringed when his cocky smile spread. “I don’t mean it like…you know, like car salesman smooth.

  I mean…” She meant experienced. Confident. Sure. “I’m sorry.” Heat bled up her cheeks. “That didn’t come out right.”

  His eyes sparkled in the soft light. “It’s okay.” He leaned forward and laced his fingers together on the table, holding her gaze tight. “It’s refreshing. You say what’s on your mind.”

  He reached out and one of his hands took hers. The touch of his calloused, warm hands sent a shiver through her system. She watched his long, tanned fingers lightly stroke hers.

  He took a deep breath and it seemed to Mandy as if he wanted to say something more, but he didn’t. He just held her hand, cold and clammy as hers had become, in his warm, rough one.

  Mandy swallowed. Never had she been treated with such care and thought. With other boys, she’d felt like a buoy bobbing in the sea, unsure of where the current might take them. In A.J.’s presence she felt safe, like he was in complete control of everything around them in a way that made her feel like she could conquer anything.

  “How about a little dancing?” He turned her palm and traced the lines with one of his fingers, but his gaze stayed on hers. The light touch of his finger caused ripples of sensation to stream from her hand to her pounding heart.

  Mandy looked around at the quiet restaurant, almost empty now that it was ten o’clock. An ethnic, twanging melody played from speakers somewhere, but it wasn’t the kind of music you could dance to. When she looked at him again, his heavy blink and slow smile reached inside of her like a leisurely caress. “Not here,” he said. “Somewhere else.”

  She’d never heard of the place before. It wasn’t a club in the sense of an over-eighteen-drinking establishment. It was the Country Club, and on Friday nights a four piece jazz band played in one of the halls.

  The room wasn’t packed, but Mandy was surprised at the crowd: a mix from teenagers to elderly folks listened to the rowdy, swing beat the band was playing.

  A.J. seemed to know a few of the faces in the crowd.

  He slipped his hand around hers and led her through the jumble of couples, right to
the middle of the floor.

  “You like to dance, don’t you?” he asked over the brass.

  “I like to but I’m not much of a dancer.” Mandy glanced around. Polished dancers seemed to surround them, lifting, twirling, dipping and lunging like they’d just stepped into the middle of a dance show.

  A.J. wasn’t bad either. Not showy by any stretch, but he knew how to keep the beat and move himself without looking clumsy. That’s more than I can do, Mandy thought, unable to stop smiling. It still amazed and thrilled her that he’d actually been paying attention to what she’d said on the job and thought about it enough to bring her to a place where they could dance.