by Natasha Boyd
Jack’s tall frame fell in beside me. “Geez, it gets dark here,” he said, echoing my thoughts of a few moments ago.
“It’s the sea turtles.”
When I didn’t elaborate, Jack scratched his head. “Sea turtles?”
“Hmm? Oh, they nest on the beaches and when the babies hatch they follow the moonlight to the water. Too many house and streetlights can confuse them, so we keep it pretty low key around here. Prepare to get lost a few times if you’re driving at night.”
“Huh. Who knew?”
“I’m pretty sure they have sea turtles on the west coast.” I looked over at him.
He furrowed his brow. “Yeah, I guess I haven’t paid attention. That must seem pretty dumb to you, huh?”
I shook my head as I directed us left to a narrow path. Our feet crunched on crushed oyster shells as we made our way under a huge magnolia dripping with Spanish moss. “No. Sea turtles are important in a small town that’s big on eco-tourism. You kind of pick it up by osmosis living here. You’ve had more going on with your life than I am sure I could possibly fathom, so it doesn’t seem dumb.”
“Just shallow. Right,” he added, as if he was filling in a blank I’d not said.
“No! Not at all.”
“It’s fine, I’m not offended. I’ve been living a pretty shallow existence lately which isn’t really ... ” He trailed off.
We had stopped at my back deck. He looked around and I tried to see the place through his eyes. Bringing him to the backyard wasn’t the best idea. I quickly kept walking and he followed me around to the front. I jogged up the front stairs onto the porch and fished around in my purse for the key.
Jack sighed. “Shit. I dunno, I’m not in the best mood these days.” Running a hand over his hooded head, a silver ring he wore on his middle finger glinted. He looked around. “Hey, this place is awesome.” Reaching out, he ran his hand along the porch railing and stepped back to see the whole house.
“It’s the Butler family home. It’s been in our family for generations.” I couldn’t hide the touch of pride that came out in my tone. “It’s seen better days.” An understatement, but it was still beautiful. To me anyway, and any historical architecture buff. “There were some ... mishaps ... of the family money kind.” If that’s what you called them. “Anyway, Joey and I are trying to fix it up.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Joey?”
“My brother. He’s at Med school right now ... so I guess it’s just me trying to fix it up at the moment.” I realized I better head him off at the pass if I didn’t want to get into my life story. It wasn’t something you just blurted out to someone you’d never see again. “Thanks for walking me. What was the favor you wanted to ask? I’m not going to tell anyone, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
I finally found the key and stepped forward to press it into the lock while I waited. Wow, I was avoiding spending more time with Jack Eversea.
“I’m embarrassed to ask, but I’m starting to feel like I don’t have a choice. If you can’t ... or won’t, I totally understand.” Oh God, did he want to come in? Was that what this was about? When he said he wanted to forget his troubles for a night, did he mean ... with me?
What was even more disconcerting was my reaction to that thought literally caused my insides to flip over and strength to leech from my legs. I held onto the doorframe and was suddenly short of breath. This was ... not a comfortable feeling. He seemed to be still deliberating. What? I wasn’t hot enough? Too bitchy? Too plain Jane? Who was I kidding? My hair wasn’t brown, it was ... mousy. Even the highlights Jazz had persuaded me to put in were dull.
I gritted my teeth. Wait, I didn’t want to do anything with him anyway. I had gone from semi-calm to nerves stretched taut over a razor’s edge in the blink of an eye. Ugh. This was exactly why I didn’t do this type of thing. Crushes, guys, whatever.
“Out with it,” I finally said with exasperation.
He grinned at my tone, seemingly oblivious to the internal meltdown I’d just had. “You are so ...” He shook his head and closed his eyes. “Never mind. Ok, look. Here’s the thing. I’m scared someone’s going to recognize me. I have no food in the house, that’s why I came out for a burger tonight. But I don’t think I should go to the grocery store. So ... I was wondering ... hoping ... I could pay you to do that for me?”
I couldn’t work out if that was actual buzzing in my ears or if it was so damned quiet it was deafening. He didn’t want to come in, he wanted to pay me to shop for him?
He waited patiently, a hopeful, if slightly worried expression on his gorgeous face. Thank God I’d always been a good poker player. Of course he didn’t want to come in. What on God’s green earth had even given me that idea? He had been nothing more than friendly since I’d first allowed him back in to eat his dinner.
I looked around at the worn house I was struggling to fix up. I should say yes, but in reality there was no way I was taking money from him for going to the grocery store where I went anyway.
I shook my head. “You don’t have to pay me. I go anyway, I don’t mind getting a few things for you.”
“Thank you for agreeing,” he said, letting out a long breath. “I will pay you though, the same that I pay my assistant in Cali.” He looked at me carefully, “Just so there’s no ... confusion.”
“Confusion? Oh!” Mortification found me again for the umpteenth time that night. This time with an ounce of extra humiliation just for kicks. Aaargh! I hated this guy! What did Jazz see in him anyway? I drew myself up to my full five-foot-six frame and squinted at him. “Let me re-iterate what I said earlier tonight.” I wasn’t sure, but I might have stomped my foot. Sometimes I couldn’t control it. “I think fame may have gone a little bit to your head.”
He shrugged and pursed his lips. “Well, in the same sentence you also said I looked like God’s gift to humanity.”
“Aargh, that doesn’t mean I lust after you.” My cheeks throbbed with heat.
“Yes, you have made that patently clear,” Jack argued back, his voice rising and his body leaning dangerously close to mine as he suddenly seemed to tower over me. His green eyes were even more mesmerizing up close.
“Keep your voice down,” I hissed at him, furtively glancing over to Mrs. Weaton’s house. She rented the small cottage in front that was part of the Butler estate. Another one who had too much to say about my business, although I loved her dearly. Jack rocked back on his heels, his hands still in his pockets, and took a deep breath.
“I guess I’m just making sure by asking you to help me, I’m not taking advantage of you. I’ve been burned, okay? Try not to take it as an insult, but as more of a show of respect for you and your time.” He pursed his lips, and then let out a puff of air, like he was about to say more. “Look, forget it. Forget I asked.” He turned to go.
I leaped forward and grabbed his arm, turning him back to face me. “Ok. I’ll do it.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I couldn’t tell whether he looked disappointed or regretted asking me in the first place.
“No, seriously, I’ll do it. I want to do it. I think you’re entitled to some time away like a normal person to figure your ... stuff out.” Or whatever it was he needed to do.
He looked away at that.
“I know what it’s like to need that time,” I went on. “You can pay me if it makes you feel better.” I let go where I’d been clutching his strong arm so hard I had to flex my fingers. “Sorry.”
“Shit, you’re strong. I may bruise tomorrow.” He rubbed his arm in a mock show of discomfort, then added more seriously, “I actually think I might. Bruise, I mean.”
I rolled my eyes. “No you won’t. I guess I got strong hands from fixing up the house. It takes some muscle to wield those power tools, you know.” And his arm had felt pretty muscly to me. That thought made me swallow hard. What the hell was I doing?
Jack arched an eyebrow. “You and power tools? That I have to see.” Then he stepp
ed back and appraised the house once more. Taking in the white expanse of the front and the large Lowcountry-style rocking chair front porch, I knew he could see past the peeling paint and broken shutters. His gaze took in the careful way I had planted pots on either side of the door and how clean and swept I kept the place. This house had pride.
“Do you happen to know what I did before I got famous?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I told you. I’m not your groupie.”
He pursed his lips. “I know, I know. Sorry. Well, let’s just say I have an idea.”
F O U R
“I’m coming. Ouch!” I yelped as I stubbed my pinky toe on the hall table on my way to the front door. Grabbing my foot, I hopped the last few steps.
For obvious reasons, I’d lain awake for several hours the night before reliving every single nuance of my bizarre encounter with Jack Eversea. My dreams, when sleep blessedly arrived, hadn’t given me much reprieve. So the pounding on the door at nine in the morning had caught me in a full on coma.
Opening the door, I squinted into the bright day just in time to see a tall, bare-chested mess of sweat and exertion in dark glasses pushing past me into my house. What the—?
Jack.
I lost my balance and went flying backwards. The next few seconds were a ridiculous cacophony of squeals, grunts, and flailing limbs as Jack tried to reach for me and kick the door closed behind him at the same time.
“What the hell?” my winded voice finally managed just as we hit the floor, Jack sprawled completely on top of me. He scrambled up quickly like he’d been stung.
“Shit. Sorry. I just ... people were walking past and they were looking at me. I panicked.” He glanced back at the door to make sure it was closed and took his sunglasses off.
I still lay sprawled like a starfish on my hall floor, dressed in the small Hello Kitty sleep shorts and spaghetti strap tank I’d slept in. Not enough clothes to be meeting male visitors. Certainly not how I envisioned seeing Jack Eversea this morning. I could almost hear Nana sniff disapprovingly from wherever she was haunting the house at this precise moment. Thank God I hadn’t removed the old floral carpet yet or I’d have a butt full of splinters to round out the moment.
“So you thought accosting me half-naked as I opened the door would arouse less suspicion?” I narrowed my eyes, making a colossal effort to keep them on his face and not stray down his glistening ... I slipped just once ... yes, glistening chest. Seriously? I groaned and closed my eyes letting my head fall back hard on the floor, ignoring his outstretched hand. Maybe I could knock myself out and I wouldn’t remember this. And my God, up close, he smelled like sand and sea and the ocean breeze ... and ... like ... man. I’d always thought my avoidance of all things male would keep me out of trouble long enough to see my dreams of leaving town through, but I was beginning to sense my mistake. A little prior romantic experience with men would have really helped about now.
“Sorry. I ran straight here from my jog. Are you hurt? Let me help you up.” Jack’s worried tone made me pull myself together.
I grabbed his hand and got to my feet. My tank was damp from his sweat. I wanted to be disgusted, I really did. I thought back to my brother Joey and the way he’d be all like “let me give you a hug, sis” right after coming back from working out. “Gross!” I’d yell. But, now? Now, I wanted to lick the sweat off this guy’s six-pack. And that tattoo on his shoulder ... surprisingly, it was real, not painted on for a movie. I sighed. This was so not good. There was only one way this was going to end. Me: ruined for all men, sitting on my own, or maybe with Jazz, in the back of dark theatres shoveling popcorn into my mouth for the rest of my life. Watching him on celluloid.
* * *
“So ... what’s the deal here, you said you and your brother were fixing the house up, where are your parents?” Jack was standing, still shirtless with just a pair of longish black gym shorts on, in my kitchen finishing up the coffee I had made us. “Sorry. I’m not prying, just curious.”
“It’s ok. Sorry if I seem tense, it’s not you. Some people in this town are always breathing down our necks because this is the Butler House. My brother and I inherited it. It was my grandmother’s and should have gone to my parents, but they died about six years ago in a car wreck driving back from Savannah.”
I was proud of my ability to rattle off these facts with zero emotion. “My grandmother passed a few years later of heart failure, so it falls to us. It’s an historic monument of sorts, being that we are the Butlers of Butler Cove, so everyone in town is always complaining that it needs to be fixed up, but they won’t allocate funds to help unless we sell it to the town. Or at least agree to set it up as a museum or something that will help tourism. They know our parents had life insurance money, so they think we should have used that. Except, we needed it for Joey’s college. We still work on the house when we can. Or I do. As I said before, Joey’s at med school.”
“That’s tough.” Jack looked like he wanted to say something more. “I’m sorry about your parents.”
“Yeah, well. It’s life, huh?” I smiled to show I wasn’t expecting pity. “So this deal of yours may work for me after all. It will be good to make some headway on the interior stuff. I keep focusing on the outside because that’s what everyone sees. Are you sure it’s still ok?”
“It’s fine. Sorry I can’t help with the outside, I’d be too conspicuous. I told you I miss the days when I worked construction while juggling auditions. It was good, busy, creative work. A different sense of accomplishment. It’s good exercise, too.” He flexed his biceps jokingly, all his upper body muscles tensing. I found myself scowling at him.
“Well, I seem to be getting the better end of the deal,” I managed. “Or maybe I’m not, I haven’t seen your work yet.”
He laughed and ran his fingers through his unruly dark hair. “Let’s just say, I had a ‘day job’ to go back to, if the acting thing didn’t work out.”
“Ok, well, I’ll quickly go and change and get to the store.” I headed for the kitchen doorway. “There’s a toolbox in the attic. Text me if you think I need to pick up anything for the house. Help yourself to cereal or whatever. Oh, and ... borrow a t-shirt from Joey. Please. Second door on the left upstairs.” And on that note, I bolted up the stairs before I said anything else.
I locked myself in the bathroom and climbed into a cold shower. Maybe I could shock some sense into my system. Pointing out his shirtless state bothered me was not a smart move, but there was no way I could go another second with him parading around in front of me like that and pretend not to ogle him. He really was just the most arresting specimen of man I had ever seen. Ugh, I was so shallow. I should just tell him right away I didn’t want the help. But it was too ... tempting.
I had wanted to pull the carpet and re-finish the floors forever. And he could build bookshelves, he said. I was dying to make that parlor into a gorgeous library: a place to curl up and lose myself for a while. Getting a head start on the interior stuff, and free labor to boot, was too much to resist.
I climbed out of the shower, having scrubbed and washed every inch of myself repeatedly and absently, because apparently my mind was nowhere to be found. I wrapped my wet hair up, pulled my robe on, and scrambled, lest I bump into Jack again, back to my room to get dressed.
I looked around at the sage green walls and white linen bedclothes. They were supposed to be soothing colors, even though I could barely take it in with my books piled over every available surface.
I was anything but soothed. I was extremely uncomfortable, both with my shallow, lustful reaction to Jack, and the fact that Jack, a relative stranger, was in my house at all, especially while I had been in the shower naked. I knew I had been raised better than this, I just couldn’t for the life of me figure out how I was supposed to deal with this bizarre situation.
I pulled on jean shorts and a t-shirt, my staple wardrobe. I combed and pulled my wet hair up in a bun, shoved my feet back into my Keds, and heade
d back down toward my new bizarre reality.
* * *
The Piggly Wiggly grocery store was blessedly quiet. Schools had started back up and the summer crowds had gone home. Most back to Ohio. For some reason people from Ohio loved this part of the country. One would think the drive would be a little much, but apparently someone from Ohio must have had an amazing vacation down here once many years ago and bought some billboards or something when he got home.
I consulted the list Jack had scrawled out for me. His handwriting was atrocious.
Milk
Capn Crunch
Bananas
Cheese sticks
Sandwich bread
Peanut Butter
Jelly
O.J.
Pasta
Pasta sauce
Eggs
Bottled water
I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. It was like shopping for a toddler. Without thinking, I fished out my phone and pulled up where he had saved his number under the name of Late Night Visitor. That wouldn’t arouse curiosity if Jazz ever saw my phone. I made a quick mental note to change it, and then tapped out a text.
Me: Cheese sticks? What r u? Like 5?
I moved on down the aisles collecting his and my purchases. A few minutes later my phone chirped back.
Late Night Visitor: You were rushing me, I couldn’t think. You don’t like cheese sticks?
Me: I love cheese sticks. In my lunch box. You eat any vegetables?
Late Night Visitor: I’ll have you know my body is my temple ;-) I’m on vacation from California crunchy. Yes, I eat vegetables. Grab some carrots, too.
I huffed just as my phone chirped again.
Late Night Visitor: Please.
I grinned and ignored the slow fizz in my belly that jumped every time my phone dinged with his response.
Me: Baby carrots and ranch dippies. Got it.
He just begged to be given a hard time.
Suddenly, my heart started going a mile a minute and I was breathing hard. Jack Eversea was in my house! I willed myself to calm down and catch my breath. He was just a person. A human being. Right? I bent down for a moment and stuck my head between my knees, hoping my blood would circulate normally again. Standing up a few moments later, I pulled myself together, looked around, and straightened my shirt.
