Something Sweeter
Page 12
“Darlin’, if you have to do an inspection first, I’m doing it all wrong.”
When laughter threatened, she pressed her lips together. “I know your mother called you and told you about the crisis. So I’m here to see if your home will accommodate the wedding reception of the brother you obviously love so much.” Not that she needed to add that last part for emphasis. Jesse was the type of man who’d always try to do the right thing, even if sometimes he was a bit misguided.
“How many people are we talking about?” he asked.
“A hundred. Very doable.”
The steamy look he gave her took doable in another direction.
“How about you come through and take a look,” he said. “I don’t have a clue about parties or how many people a place will hold.”
“Really?” She followed him into the large home, watching his big, wet, bare feet leave prints on the floor. “I figured you’d be hosting all kinds of skinny-dipping extravaganzas for your lady friends.”
“Ah. So who’s been telling tales this time?”
“Tales? You mean you don’t have a weekly bare-naked bash?”
“Hardly. I don’t do half the things people say I do. But don’t tell anybody. I wouldn’t want to burst their bubble.”
Though it was really none of her business, she wondered how that could be true. From the moment she’d arrived in Sweet, he’d played the part of a playboy. He looked the part. With her own eyes, she’d seen women’s reactions to him. Heck, she’d experienced her own. And now she was supposed to believe he wasn’t guilty as charged? That was quite a stretch.
Intrigued, she followed him through a huge dining area with an extended table and a chef’s kitchen. Allison had to admit she’d always longed for a kitchen like his, with granite countertops and stainless appliances and an island where friends could gather around while she made a meal. She loved to cook, and Jesse’s kitchen was a dream compared to her own dinky condo kitchen, where she barely had room to turn around.
A wall of glass including a set of glass doors extended out to the back, where Jesse waved her through. When she stepped outside to the enormous stone patio, her jaw dropped.
The backyard stole her breath. Rolling green hills dotted with live oak were the backdrop for an expansive lawn. The rest of the yard was a masterful blend of a pool and spa with natural stonework and a rock waterfall. The outdoor kitchen and patio provided a comfortable gathering place for family and friends. There were plenty of trees for shade, and now at dusk, small white lights twinkled amongst their branches.
No need for wondering if this place would work for a wedding reception. It was perfect.
Allison was knocked over.
Literally.
When she looked around, she was ass on the ground looking up into the big slobbery face of a happily panting black Lab with a neon yellow tennis ball crunched between his teeth.
“Dinks!” Jesse sent a scolding look to the Lab, whose tail hadn’t quit wagging.
Allison brushed off her hands and accepted Jesse’s help getting up. “Your dog’s name is Dinks?” she asked, when he pulled her upright, and they were almost chest to breast.
“That’s right. And he’s a bad boy,” he said in a scorching tone that had the dog sitting back on his hindquarters. “And that”—he pointed to a fluffy striped cat hissing at Wee Man from a countertop—“is Rango.”
“How can you make fun of Wee Man if your dog’s name is Dinks?”
“Because I didn’t name him. Or Rango. They were dropped off at the clinic long before Abby got her pet-rescue center going.”
“Someone just abandoned them?”
“Happens all the time,” Jesse said, as Dinks suddenly discovered Wee Man, and the two took off in a barking race across the lawn.
“That’s horrible.”
“I agree. But now Abby’s center is helping to find forever homes for them.”
“Well, I like her even more now.”
“She’s easy to like. Always has been.”
“You’ve known her a long time?”
“Hell, she’s been around since she and Jackson were in kindergarten.”
“Wow. That’s longer than most marriages last.”
“Uh-huh. Mom said you were coming by to take a look at the place to see if it’d work for the reception.” He gestured at the yard. “Go ahead. If you need anything, just call me.”
“And where will you be?” she asked.
“Right over there on the lounger under the pergola with a cold beer in my hand.”
“It’s almost dark.”
“Best time to lie out and relax after a hard day at work. No scorching sun. Bugs aren’t out yet.” He gave her a look that piqued her curiosity. “Care to join me? There’s plenty of room for both of us.”
“No thanks.” A refusal she might very well regret the rest of her life. “I’ve got a job to do.”
“Do you mind if I ask what made you change your mind to stay and help out with the wedding? I mean, you being all anti–wedded bliss and all.”
“I’m not against people being happy. I just don’t believe getting married has anything to do with making that happen.”
“Sure it does. I see happy married people all the time.” He walked to the pergola, flopped down on the lounger, and tucked his hands behind his head.
“That’s not exactly the same thing.”
“Depends on your perspective. Maybe now that you’re going to be here a while longer, I can prove you wrong.”
She stepped closer, giving herself a better look at that long, muscular body and those tight, rippling abs. “Maybe you should take your own advice and spend your time finding a woman to settle down with instead of wasting your time taking me on some kind of wild-goose chase.”
“No can do, darlin’.”
“Why?” She folded her arms and settled her weight on one hip. “To me it sounds like you’re the one opposed to marriage.”
“It’s not that I’m against it,” he argued. “It’s just not right for me.”
“What makes you think that?” she asked.
“Got my reasons. How about you?”
How many reasons did she really need to count out for him? “I just don’t have the right DNA for it.”
Brows pulled tight, he lifted his gorgeous head off the lounger. “Says who?”
“Says me.”
“You know what I think?”
She looked up and down that phenomenal physique, and the last thing on her mind was what was on his. “I’m afraid to ask.”
“Ha!” He pointed at her. “Key word.”
“I didn’t bring my supersecret decoder ring. So maybe you can help me out here and explain what the hell you’re talking about.”
“I think it’s not that you don’t believe.” He leaned up on one elbow. “I think you’re just afraid.”
How was it that someone who barely knew her could get a read on her and be so on target?
Fearful of revealing too much, she honestly didn’t know what to say. Silence drifted between them for an uncomfortable beat. When she finally found her voice, it came with a complete deterrent to their discussion. “I guess I should get back to business.”
“Okay.” Looking as relaxed as a man could get, he raised the bottle of ale to his lips.
“Okay?” She’d expected some kind of cocky comeback. “That’s it?”
“Sure. You go ahead and take a look around to see if the place works for the reception. And I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow night.”
“For what?”
A smile tipped his sexy mouth. “If I gave away all my secrets, it wouldn’t be any fun, would it?”
Chapter 7
The following evening, Jesse let his truck idle in front of Martin Lane’s house t
o keep the air conditioner going. The temperature had hit an unseasonable ninety-five degrees that day, and the last thing he wanted was for Allison to be hot and sweaty.
Well, at least without a little sexual recreation and him being involved in the cause.
A minute later, she opened the front door wearing tight jeans, a flirty little top, and the high heels she obviously felt she needed to make herself taller. He liked her height. He thought back to when they’d danced at Seven Devils. She’d fit nicely in his arms. All their important parts lined up perfectly. It was at that point he reminded himself that he was not here to pick her up for a date.
This was business.
Only business.
“You said dress casual,” she said, quickly pulling the front door closed so her little dog didn’t escape. “I hope this is all right.”
If he’d been held at gunpoint, he could not have stopped his eyes from taking a luxury cruise down and back up her body. God. The woman would look good wearing a sack. “Looks great.”
As they walked toward his truck, he had to resist taking her hand. When they reached the truck, he used the excuse that she needed help up into the vehicle and took her hand anyway. When he leaned across her warm body, inhaled her sweet scent, and latched her seat belt, he told himself it was all about safety. When her smooth eyebrows lifted, silently telling him she could have managed such a menial task on her own, he denied the attraction that tightened every muscle in his body and then some.
Not a date.
Not a date.
Not a date.
With regret, he reminded himself that at the end of the night, there would be no hot and heavy. No down and dirty. No doing the wild thing.
For his mother’s happiness, this was just business.
He went around the front of the truck and got in. “All set?”
She looked over at him. Amusement brightened her eyes. “Whatever you’ve got going on . . . bring it.”
He laughed. “Sounds like you’re up for an adventure.”
“Well, your last attempt was highly entertaining. So why deprive myself of a little levity?”
“At my expense.”
She smiled. “Of course.”
There were two things Jesse knew about himself to be true—he never kept a lady waiting, and he never left her hanging.
But tonight wouldn’t be about laughter. Tonight he intended to show her the serious, heartfelt side of a relationship that kept couples together until death did them part.
Unfortunately for some, death came way too soon.
“Interesting.” Allison peered through the windshield at the Yellow Rose Cinema.
Jesse smiled.
He helped her down from the truck even knowing she’d been jumping in and out of Jared’s even taller Chevy for two days. Just because they weren’t on a date, there was no reason to stop being a gentleman.
Or, obviously, deny himself the opportunity to touch her as often as possible.
“We’re going to the movies?” she asked, tucking a wavy lock of hair behind her ear. Her silver hoop earrings flashed in the fading sun as he placed his hand at the small of her back and guided her toward the theater entrance.
“Good guess.”
“But it’s closed.”
“Says who?”
“The sign right there.” She pointed. “It says CLOSED MONDAYS, TUESDAYS, WEDNESDAYS. Today is Tuesday so—”
“No worries. I’ve got an in.”
“I don’t think breaking and entering is your thing.” She reached up and tugged his ponytail. “You might catch your pony on the broken glass.”
“You got a comeback for everything?”
“I try my best.”
Laughter tickled his chest as he opened the glass door to the theater. “Then I like your style.”
As soon as the door opened, Gertrude Donovan, owner of the Yellow Rose for the past three decades, came toward them in her famous old-time usher uniform, red cap and all.
“Welcome, moviegoers.” Mrs. Donovan clapped her hands. “Welcome.”
Jesse caught Allison’s enthusiastic smile from the corner of his eye. Yep. It was going to be an interesting night.
“Mrs. Donovan, this is Martin Lane’s daughter, Allison.”
“Indeed.” Mrs. Donovan pursed her wrinkled lips, then took one of Allison’s hands in her own and gave it a motherly pat. “Don’t you go worrying your pretty little head. We’ll get you fixed right up.”
“I’m sorry?” Allison’s head tilted and a ribbon of carefully tucked satiny hair fell out of place.
“Oh, now.” Mrs. Donovan chuckled. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. Like I said, we’ll get you fixed right up. How about you two hit the concession stand. Grab anything you want. I just made a fresh batch of popcorn, and the butter dispenser’s full.”
With that, Mrs. Donovan wandered off toward the stairs that led to the projection room. Jesse knew this not only because he’d worked there for a summer but because he might have taken a young lady or two up there to impress her with his filmography skills. Or romance skills, whichever came first.
Allison looked at him with raised eyebrows. “What’s she going to fix me up with?”
“She’s on board with the whole true-love-matrimonial-denial thing you’ve got going on.”
“So she’s going to fix my way of thinking?”
“Exactly.”
“Well this just gets more interesting by the minute.”
They headed toward the concession stand and the glass case that displayed every kind of candy imaginable.
“Pick your poison,” he said.
“Seriously?” Her dark eyes widened as they traveled over the sugar surplus.
“If you don’t have a stomachache by the end of the movie, I’ll feel as if I’ve failed.”
She laughed. “So we’re really going to do this? We’re going to watch a movie in a theater that’s closed because you batted those incredibly long, dark eyelashes at some nice old lady?”
“We’re really going to do this because I used to work for that nice old lady who busted my can every Saturday afternoon by making me sweep up popcorn kernels and mop the sticky stuff up off the floor.”
“Eeew.”
“You have no idea.” He leaned his hip against the glass counter. “So you like my eyelashes?” He batted them comically.
“ ‘Jealous’ would be a better word.”
“Guess I’ll have to use them to my advantage more often.” He pointed to the glass case. “I’m a Milk Duds, Junior Mints, Sugar Babies kind of guy. What kind of girl are you?” Besides knockout gorgeous and incredibly cynical, he thought.
“I’ve been known to down a box of Milk Duds or a package of Red Vines in my day.”
“Done.” He moved around to the other side of the counter and reached into the display case. “Can we share the Milk Duds or do you want the whole box?”
“The last time I ate a whole box, I think I was sixteen, and I remember I did get a stomachache. I’m good with sharing. Can we share popcorn too?”
“Only if I can douse it in butter.”
“The more the better.”
“I knew you were my kind of girl.” The words slipped before he could call them back. He covered up his error with, “Soda?”
“Diet.” She laughed. “I know that sounds ridiculous when I’m about to gorge on a gazillion calories in one sitting. But I just like the taste better.”
“Personal tastes often lead to interesting places.” He poured two tall cups full of soda and ice, stuck everything in an easy-carry cardboard box, and gestured toward the retro vinyl swinging doors. “Shall we?”
“We shall.” She swiped her soda from the box and took a sip from the long straw. He tried not to notice how amazing her lips lo
oked pursed over that little plastic tube and failed.
“So we’re seeing . . .” She glanced at the movie poster near the door. “Hatchet III to convince me of true love?”
“No, darlin’.” He laughed. “That would probably be your choice as a representation. Mine is a bit on the gentler side.” He opened the door and held it for her while she stepped inside the cool, darkened theater. Jesse remembered coming here on dates or hanging out with his brothers. The place held great memories. Tonight, he hoped to add to the list.
When she headed toward the center of the theater, he took her by the arm and led her to the center of the back row.
“Is this your special place?”
“Not mine exclusively.” He handed her the popcorn. “But I’ve been known to plant my Levi’s in these seats a time or two. Jared was the one who had his own seat. His initials are probably still there on the arm.”
“You’re kidding.”
He shook his head and pointed to the seat in the corner. “Go check it out.”
She handed him back the popcorn and, using her cell phone as a flashlight, got up to look. When she let out a laugh, he knew she’d found where in high school, his brother had carved his initials into the arm of the seat.
When Allison came back, she sat down, and their arms brushed against each other. Anticipation shot through his middle.
“Was your brother a legend or something?” she asked.
“Or something.”
Her smile faltered. “You really miss him.”
“Understatement of the century.” He tossed a kernel of popcorn into his mouth and chewed.
“I’m sorry,” she said, placing her warm hand over his forearm. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
“On the contrary, thinking of Jared sitting in that seat and raising a little hell is a great memory. So don’t be sorry.”
She sat back, and the warmth of her hand slipped away to settle in her lap. “I’ve never lost anyone close.”
“You’re lucky.” Jesse’s chest lifted on a long intake of air meant to clear the clog that had settled there. “There’s nothing worse.”
“Want to talk about it?”