Carved in Stone

by Donna McDonald

  Jessica pulled twenty-two years of teaching around her and summoned her best, most authoritative voice. “Get your fucking hands off me or I’m going to knee you in the balls.”

  Yanking herself forcefully from Will’s grip at last, Jessica stepped away from him in relief. She glared over her shoulder at the artistic perfection he had created, and then glared at Will as well, who seemed to finally have the common sense to look ashamed. Then she turned her back on Everett Williams and his work and strode briskly away from both.

  By the time Will got to the parking lot and the bike, Jessica was standing arms crossed, gaze on the pavement, her helmet in her hand.

  “You don’t have to worry about me telling anyone your artistic secrets,” Jessica informed him quietly, but firmly. “I teach art, Will. Go with that explanation about how I knew, and we’ll both be better off. I’m ready to go home now.”

  Even though the apology he owed her was on his tongue, Will didn’t say anything in return, just opened the compartments on the bike to retrieve the rest of their gear. Still feeling exposed from her observations, he didn’t know how sincere his apology would be anyway—which was just as well because Jessica didn’t look capable of hearing anything he might have to say to her.

  What in the devil had possessed him to kiss her like that? He had just wanted to stop her from telling him more because he hadn’t been able to bear hearing what she saw in his work. But the moment his lips touched hers, the desire that had been building for hours had ruled his actions. Will hadn’t even realized how far gone he had been until she wrenched herself from his arms and swore at him. His instant remorse and shock at his actions had frozen his tongue.

  Jessica was suited up, zipped, and helmet in place before Will had finished his own. He climbed on the bike and felt her settle in the seat behind him. This time she used her knees to hold his hips, keeping the rest of her as far away from him as possible.

  He immediately missed the heat of her, missed the intimacy of her long legs beside his. Her hands around his middle weren’t shaking, weren’t damp, weren’t even moving. It was like Jessica had drawn her entire personality back inside herself to keep it away from him, Will thought regretfully, just as she had now positioned her body as far away from his as she could on the seat.

  He started the bike and reached a hand to pat hers as a signal they were going to be moving. She didn’t flinch away from his touch, but she didn’t acknowledge it back either. All remnants of the vibrating energy of excitement she’d had when he’d picked her up were totally gone. In fact, it was like there was no connection between them at all anymore, Will thought, frowning.

  Not only shouldn’t he have kissed her when he was so upset, he also shouldn’t have all but accused her of—what, he asked himself? What had she done? Tell him some truth he wasn’t comfortable hearing? So what if all of his male statues were self-portraits? What did he have to be ashamed of?

  He still couldn’t explain his panic, couldn’t explain the magnitude of anxiety he’d felt when Jessica told him the truth about his art. She had reached inside to places he had locked away from everyone, even his children. First he had panicked, and then he had overreacted. Now he was ashamed, but didn’t know how to make things right again.

  At her house, Jessica climbed off and removed the helmet, handing it to him along with the ink pen that had been in her hair. She leaned down and kissed his cheek lightly, barely a brush. The lack of any emotion in it had his gut churning.

  “Thanks for the bike ride,” Jessica said, breezily. “See you around, Everett Williams. It was interesting to meet you. Good luck with your work.”

  With a wave over her shoulder, Jessica walked slowly up her sidewalk until she disappeared behind a firmly closed door.

  Maybe he hadn’t dated in decades, but Will recognized her actions as a major and very final brush-off. He scrubbed a hand over the still visible part of his face, then turned around and stowed her helmet in the now empty storage compartment.

  Jessica’s helmet, Will thought miserably, something he’d bought for the sole purpose of taking her for a ride. He wasn’t going to be letting anyone else use it anytime soon, no matter how brave he’d been earlier.

  Tucking the pen she gave him back into his jacket, Will stared off down the street, letting the reality of what had happened sink in completely. He knew enough about women to know what returning the pen meant. Jessica was done with him. She wanted no reminders of their time together.

  Now he wished like hell he’d kissed her earlier in the afternoon when she had taunted him. He wished he’d just stepped into her and hungrily kissed her teasing mouth when her lips had first called to him. She would have tasted like the excitement and energy of wanting the bike ride. She would have kissed him back, laughed against his mouth, and maybe even invited his tongue to play with hers.

  Instead, he’d forced his mouth on hers when he was angry, forced an intimacy she obviously hadn’t wanted at that moment. As Will thought about it now, he realized Jessica had not for one moment responded with any heat to his kiss in the garden. Not that what he’d done counted as real kissing anyway. He almost wished Jessica had kneed him. Maybe it would have balanced out some of his now growing guilt.

  The only thing that helped calm him at all was remembering that Melanie knew her, knew who Jessica really was and all about her life. Will decided he would just give Jessica Daniels some time to stop being so upset at him, and then he would find a way to make this right with her.

  Today was not going to be the only interaction he had with Jessica Daniels.

  He wasn’t a bad guy. He certainly couldn’t live with the idea she might think he was one.

  Will sighed unhappily, put the bike in gear, and rolled away from her curb.

  Chapter 4

  The statue in Michael’s work area now had a leg and the beginning of a hip. Will had found the motivation to carve again when the panic over his botched ‘date’ had subsided. He had had a full week to think about things, a week where he told himself to forget Jessica Daniels, but found he couldn’t. The wound she had opened in him had mostly closed and healed. He had hoped every day the same was true for Jessica because he wanted another chance. He had to find a way to get the warmth of her back into his life.

  “No chemistry, huh?” Will said morosely, sighing into his coffee as he took a sip. “I can’t believe Jessica said we had no chemistry. She’s lying, Melanie. There’s enough chemistry between Jessica Daniels and me to blow up a damn science lab.”

  Melanie wanted to laugh at how upset Will seemed to be over the one and only reason Jessica had given her as explanation of why things hadn’t worked out on the date. She had never heard William Larson swear before, never seen him upset for more than a few moments. She’d love to know what really happened between Jessica and him on their ‘date’. Jessica had pretty much refused to talk about the details of it.

  “That’s all she told me,” Melanie confirmed with a shrug.

  “Do you think she was serious?” Will asked.

  Melanie shrugged again. “Jessica’s pretty honest. I can’t even tell you half the things she said the day she met you here. I blush thinking about them. But I guess if she didn’t feel anything when you guys kissed—I mean, she said she didn’t feel much, Mr. Larson. Women are usually pretty honest with other women about things like that.”

  No chemistry, Will thought. Well that was just bullshit. There was chemistry. Granted, he hadn’t used any finesse with her, had definitely not shown her his best moves, but there had been chemistry—damn it. Plus he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  “She’s lying, Melanie,” Will said again, absolutely believing it and planning to prove it to Jessica the next time he saw her. “Don’t call me Mr. Larson anymore. Call me Will, and tell me Jessica Daniels’ story. Why isn’t she married?”

  Melanie shrugged. “I don’t know if she wants to get married. Jessica dates a lot,” she said carefully, thinking Will didn’t need to
know specifics of what that meant. Some men wouldn’t understand a woman like Jessica who did what she wanted.

  “Jessica told me she got married at seventeen. Her husband was a solider and got killed before she got to go overseas to be with him. There was a guy she dated seriously for a couple of years in her early thirties, but he kept wanting her to cut her hair and dress more—I don’t know—not like herself I guess. I saw him a few times. He was very good-looking, but never seemed quite happy with who Jessica really was as a person. They broke up the first year Brent and I were in her class. After that, Jessica hasn’t stayed with any one guy very long.”

  “What kind of art does she do?” Will asked.

  “That’s too personal for me to share with you,” Melanie said quietly, her voice and her tone firm and uncompromising. “If she wants you to know, she’ll tell you herself.”

  What kind of art could the woman be protecting that was more embarrassing than his statues, Will wondered? Jessica had put her hands on his penis for crying out loud. Well not his, he amended, but his statue’s—which was practically the same thing—as she had damn well figured out the first time she’d touched his work.

  “Her art is too personal? What does that mean? Is she embarrassed by it?” Will demanded.

  Melanie looked at him with a firmness in her gaze. “It simply means her art is too personal and that I’m not telling you no matter what tone you use on me. I outgrew being afraid of you when I started serving you coffee last year.”

  Will rubbed a hand over his face. “Sorry. The woman scrambled my brain. I should have kissed her when she told me to the first time. Now I’m haunted by not doing it right.”

  Melanie burst out laughing. “You did kiss her. Jessica told me about it. She said it wasn’t very good—sorry. I don’t mean to keep harping on the fact.”

  “What we did wasn’t kissing,” Will said morosely. “That was panic, fear, and a bunch of other things. She saw my art, made some comments, and then something erupted between us. I need another chance with her, Melanie.”

  Melanie sighed deeply, fetched the coffee pot, and refilled his cup. “Why?”

  Will thought about that for a moment.

  “I don’t know for sure,” he finally admitted. “I can’t stop thinking about her, and just know I need another chance. I can’t let what happened be all Jessica Daniels remembers about me.”

  Melanie saw genuine concern in his face and mentally crossed her fingers at her decision to help him again.

  “Do not make me regret telling you this. Jessica is coming by Sunday to put up some art outside. We’ll be closed then, but you might just want to swing by on your bike and see what happens. If you tell her I told you about it, I’m banning you from coming here.”

  “I won’t tell her, and I’m doubling your tip today,” Will told her, smiling. “Thanks, Melanie.”

  Melanie looked at him hard. He didn’t seem so intimidating today, didn’t seem like anything more than a sad older man who’d messed up with a nice woman.

  “You remind me of my father today, and I’m feeling sorry for you. Want me to give you some more advice? It might embarrass you,” Melanie warned.

  “Sure,” Will said. “Can’t be any worse than what my sons said about the situation when I told them.”

  “Do more of that stool thing you did the first time you met her,” Melanie said carrying the coffee pot back to the burner, laughing when Will covered his flushing face with his hand. “I know it embarrasses you, but Jessica loved that. She loves to flirt. You don’t know her, but she has more life in her than any ten women you will ever meet. I think she needs romance the way flowers need water or human beings need air.”

  Will nodded affirmatively and sighed again as he sipped his coffee.

  “Thanks, Melanie,” he said, hoping his screw-up with Jessica Daniels was as redeemable as he hoped.

  ***

  When Will swung the bike into the café parking lot on Sunday, he was greeted by Jessica’s jean covered backside bent over a large plywood construction project on the ground. So mesmerized was he by the site of her jeans stretched over her hips, he hit the parking space chock abruptly and stalled the bike. He hadn’t done such a dumb thing in years, and it flustered him.

  Will saw Jessica’s head come up and her gaze swing around to him, but there was no friendly smile or wave, no welcome excited energy rolling off her toward him. He felt the loss in his gut. Then Will finally noticed the other people with her, lots of men of various ages, except for one young woman he would guess to be around Shane’s age.

  Several of the younger men were openly admiring the bike. Others, like the older two men, moved closer to Jessica. Will watched her shake her head in answer to a question from one of them. Then she turned her back and returned to what she was doing, which seemed to involve a lot of energetic pounding on nails.

  Will stowed his jacket in the storage compartment and hung his helmet from the handle bars. Pulling himself up to his full height, he walked slowly over to join the group where Jessica was bent over and working. He scowled at one man across the way, who was sneaking looks at Jessica’s bent form when she wasn’t looking. It was effective enough to stop the man’s leering and to momentarily ease the frown on Will’s face.

  The young woman, who had blatantly watched the exchange, smiled broadly at Will.

  Closer now, he could see the young woman was at least in her late twenties, and he would bet she missed nothing, judging by the knowing smile she kept sending his way. She reminded him of Melanie, only sassier. He also saw her hair was red, like the other sassy woman in his life, who was still bent from her very alluring hips and completely ignoring him.

  If Jessica Daniels had been a mind reader and seen the images in his head that her rear inspired, she would have straightened right up, Will thought darkly. He was not even comfortable himself with where his thoughts had gone, but with the other guy staring at her, Will’s need to compete for her ruled his common sense. He imagined his fantasies were affecting tightness of his jaw as well as his jeans.

  “Hello, Jessica. You look busy,” Will said, hoping to snag her attention and get her to stand up and look at him.

  “Hello, Will. Out for a Sunday drive?” she asked politely, not raising her gaze from her work.

  Will debated what to say. He hated lying, but didn’t want to admit his intentions and scare her either.

  “Not really,” he finally said, disappointed when she didn’t pry. “I thought I’d stop by when I saw you. Melanie said something about you doing some art for the café.”

  “Okay, it’s ready,” Jessica said out loud, ignoring Will’s last comment and standing up at last. She wondered briefly just what Melanie had told him, then reminded herself she didn’t care.

  “Kyle? You and Tom stand it up. Let’s take one more look before we mount it on the building,” she said.

  Jessica stepped back to let the boys have plenty of room.

  Will watched two tall young boys run to do her bidding and heave the large art piece up to a standing position so she could inspect it. He grinned at the plywood woman’s face, her playful nose sniffing daises and fifty other kinds of colorful flowers floating out and up the curved design. It was colorful, eye-catching, and glitzy.

  And it suited the café perfectly.

  “It will do,” Jessica said, perusing it. “We can fix the little things once it’s up.”

  “Hey, gorgeous,” a deep voice said nearby, “ready for your manpower yet?”

  “Your timing is perfect as always,” Jessica purred. “Thank you, Steve.”

  Will gritted his teeth as the tall, well-built man she called Steve walked to one end of the sign. The man nodded at Will with his chin. “Can you get the other end?”

  Saying nothing, Will just nodded and went to the other side and lifted. While he and the man held the art to the building, ten hammers descended on it. Will felt his teeth rattle as the boys went after the nails with the zest of young men
showing off for each other. Their full-out enthusiasm made him smile because he’d always loved kids, and not just his own. It’s why he’d gone into teaching in the first place, though he’d ended up a principal for a much longer time than he had taught.

  Will was still smiling when he felt Jessica’s gaze on him, but when he caught her staring, she only looked away. However, the younger woman by her side had taken her eyes off Will only long enough to look at Jessica and back to him.

  It was like she was trying to figure out a puzzle. And that makes two of us, Will decided, smiling genuinely at both the boys and the younger woman.

  Steve let go of the sign at last, and Will stepped away as well.

  “I’m Steve Lipton,” the man said, walking to Will and sticking out a hand.

  “Everett Williams. Call me Will,” Will said, taking the hand and looking at Jessica again, not willing to tell her about his other life until he had settled the issues of this one, because it was the life he was trying to share with her.

  “You a friend of Jessica’s?” Steve asked, a knowing look in his eyes.

  “Trying to be,” Will replied, watching Jessica walk away and out of earshot after hearing his words.

  He watched as Jessica walked to a group of kids painting a giant flower pot and bent from her hips again to inspect their work. Will narrowed his eyes on her very appealing jean-covered rear end and sighed loudly.

  Steve laughed. “Good luck with that. Jessica is a tough woman to genuinely get to know. Adam over there is trying the same thing.”

  Will looked in the direction of a man who had risen from his task of assembling some sort of metal pot hanger. He walked over to Jessica and stood as close to her as humanly possible without actually putting his arms around her.

  The man was at least ten years younger than he was, Will observed unhappily. Hell, the man might even be closer to Michael’s age. Did Jessica prefer younger men, he wondered?