Jinxed

by Inez Kelley

  “The beer is yours, I just bought it and I didn’t break anything. I fixed something. Last night I noticed your faucet had a slow drip. So I came over and fixed it. But I dropped the old washer down the drain and had to remove the trap to get it out. Everything’s working fine now.”

  “Wonderful. Just call you Mr. Plumber. Now how did you get into my house?”

  Arms crossed, he leaned on the sink and sizzled her with a sultry look. “You tape an extra house key to the inside of your mailbox, just like I do.”

  “Great. Don’t let the doorknob hit you in the ass on the way out.” Frannie turned and flounced up the stairs. Each silent step she expected Jinx to follow her, but he didn’t. Changing into a pair of casual jeans and a sweater, she strained to hear any sound he might be making below. She heard nothing over the sound of holiday music.

  Bent at the waist, she peered over the railing on the way down the stairs. Come in, sit a spell, make yourself comfortable, why doncha? Jinx was sitting in her living room reading her newspaper. He’d made himself quite at home. His boots rested on the rug just like last night, his coat lay across the back of her couch and his feet were propped up on her coffee table. Molded to his body, his dark blue jeans and pale gray sweatshirt highlighted every inch of masculine beauty. Lust slammed into her like a freight train and her bones rattled in her skin. The force of desire hit, leaving her bruised and aching with want.

  I so need to buy batteries in the worst way.

  “Hey.” Jinx folded the paper as she entered the room. “Where do you want to eat? There’s a new Thai place down on Markwood Street we could try.”

  “Go ahead. Enjoy it. I already ate,” Frannie lied, determined to ignore him. Like a pesky fly, maybe he would buzz off if she didn’t play his game. She grabbed the romance novel she’d been reading off the corner of the coffee table and curled up in the armchair beneath the lamp. Never once looking in his direction, she buried her nose in the pages.

  “Want to catch a movie?”

  “Nope.”

  “Want to go upstairs and play doctor?”

  “Nope.”

  “How about running off to Vegas for a quickie wedding by an Elvis impersonator?”

  “Nope.”

  At her silence, he grew quiet and studied her. Feeling his eyes, she focused her gaze to the printed page. Although not reading, she turned the page after a few minutes. Hocus and Pocus waddled into the room, not sparing Jinx a glance. Hocus jumped up on her lap and purred like a diesel engine. Pocus stood looking at them both before falling over with a dull thump.

  Jinx jumped to his feet. “Frannie, what’s wrong with your cat? Is he having a seizure?”

  “Nope.” Lips bit against her grin, she turned another page.

  “Is he dead? He’s not moving.”

  “He’s asleep.”

  “Asleep? But he just keeled over.”

  “Pocus has narcolepsy.”

  “Narcolepsy.” Jinx repeated the word in stunned bewilderment. Frannie hid her face behind the book, peering over the top covertly. Shaking his head in confusion, he moved closer to the armchair. Hocus stood up and hissed at him.

  “He doesn’t like men,” Frannie offered, not moving her eyes from the page.

  “I see that.”

  She continued to pretend to read but watched him out of the corner of her eyes. Jinx seemed at a loss. He didn’t know exactly where to turn next. He finally settled himself back against the couch and looked at her. She turned yet another page.

  “You really don’t believe me when I say we’re supposed to be together, do you?” Jinx’s voice was a puzzled and quiet whisper.

  Sighing, Frannie dropped the book and turned to face the absolutely gorgeous nutball in front of her. “No. Just because we have a few things in common does not mean we’re destined for anything. Go Google Frannie Sullivan. There are thousands in the world, I’m sure. Go find one of them. As similar as we are, there are too many things different about us. It wouldn’t work. Somewhere out there’s a wonderful woman meant just for you. I’m not her. You need to move on and leave me alone.”

  Jinx stared at her a long minute before he swallowed and nodded. With a defeated look in his eyes, he rose and walked to the foyer. Frannie closed her eyes in both relief and misery. He was going. Out of her house and out of her life. Sadness crashed down on her like a wool blanket. Stop it, there’s no future with him. He’s crazy and you don’t need the heartache.

  Turning her head to watch him leave, she was shocked to see his legs disappear up the steps. Now where does he think he’s going? She tripped over a waking Pocus in her scramble to follow him. With one quick eye roll at her pet, she bounded to the top of her stairs and looked around. Where is he?

  He wasn’t in her bedroom or the guest room, and the bathroom was empty. But the attic door stood wide open. The attic steps were narrow and rough under her sock-clad feet. A bare bulb shone harshly but did little to brighten the cold darkness of the unfinished room. A few old boxes and some camping equipment lined one wall but the rest of the space was bathed in freezing shadows. Why is it so cold up here and what the hell is he doing?

  The answer to both of those silent questions was directly in front of her. Jinx had opened the large eastern window and stood on her roof. Glacial air poured in around her feet, raising goose bumps along her arms. Night had completely fallen and the moonlight, joined with the glow from the neighbors’ Christmas lights, cast an eerie green-tinted aura onto the rooftop. The cold temperature coated the shingles in a fine glistening array of shimmering ice crystals.

  Ramrod stiff, with arms outspread and face turned up into the wind, Jinx stood at the edge of her gutter, high above the shrubbery. The poetic beauty of his posture stole her breath. So still and dark against the night sky, eyes closed as if in prayer, he could have been a modern-day prophet listening to the Almighty’s whisper. Twisting her head, Frannie could see or hear nothing that could have captured his interest. Panic seized her chest in a painful grip as he took a final step towards the edge of her roof.

  Oh my Gawd, he really is crazy! He’s going to jump off my roof!

  “Jinx, get in here! You’re going to break your neck!”

  Over the rustle of the bare tree limbs in the growing wind, Frannie heard a group of carolers come up the street. Someone noticed the man standing atop the roofline and the warbling chorus of “Oh Come, All Ye Faithful” died out. A harsh whisper barely reached her ears.

  “Dear God, he’s going to jump!”

  The words seemed to galvanize Jinx. He began rocking to and fro. Tongue thick with fear, Frannie hacked like Hocus with a hairball before she could find her voice. She’d never had a lunatic try to commit suicide from her roof before, and she wasn’t quite sure of the protocol required. Should she go out there after him? Try to talk him down? Run and get towels to clean up the mess?

  “Jinx, please, come back in here.”

  Not moving a muscle, his voice melted on the wind, teasing her ears. “Will you marry me, Frannie?”

  “I’m not going to marry some idiot who’s jumping off my roof. Now get in here, Looney Toon!”

  “Man, lady, that’s cold-blooded. Have a heart, it’s nearly Christmas.” A voice from the sidewalk made her bury her face in her hands before once again pleading with the swaying figure outside her window.

  “Jinx, come inside. Let’s talk about this.”

  He wouldn’t even face her. Back stiff, perched like a blackbird high on a wire, his silhouette was nearly artistic in grace. Tinged with opera, that glorious baritone voice bathed her in frigid song. “There’s nothing to talk about. You couldn’t even be bothered to answer the phone today when I called you. You told me to drop dead.”

  The wind picked up a lock of his dark hair and sent it dancing across his forehead in a lover’s caress. Her face stung with the cold and she frantically grasped at anything to get him inside.

  “I—I was wrong. I didn’t mean I wanted you to really drop de
ad and certainly not from my roof. Please, come back inside. I’ll do anything you like, just come in here where you’re safe.”

  Finally turning his gypsy eyes to her, Jinx asked hopefully, “Will you marry me?”

  “She ain’t worth it, buddy!” A different man yelled from below the roofline.

  Frannie ignored the insult. Feeling the wind whip and seeing his white-socked feet so close to the edge made her mind up for her. If the worst happened, she would never forgive herself, and how high would her insurance premiums be?

  “I—if you come inside right now, yes, I’ll marry you.”

  “Okay.”

  Effortlessly, Jinx turned, strode across the shingles and crawled back in the window. He smiled rakishly at her and cocked one dark brow.

  Blood rushed to her temples. He had played her like a scratch-off lottery ticket. Heat boiled through her veins and she had a brief mental image of Elmer Fudd, red-faced with steam coming out his ears, screaming like a train whistle.

  “You son of a bitch! You never were going to jump.”

  “I never said I was going to jump. You just assumed it.” He closed the window with a soft thud.

  “You are a sick, twisted individual.” Vehemence made her voice trembly and shrill.

  “I was desperate. You’re being bullheaded. Okay, maybe I went a little too far—”

  “A little? Try about four miles too far, fruitcake. A little far? That’s like saying the Titanic had a little ice problem.” Her loud voice echoed in the dim attic. Red flooded her vision and her fingers itched to pluck every one of those black brows out without tweezers.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re damn right, I’m right. How on earth could you have thought that was a smart move?”

  He hung his head before a smile carved a dimple into his cheek. The dim bulb lent an otherworldly eeriness to his features. “Can I claim temporary insanity due to extreme sexual frustration?”

  “Ha! There’s nothing temporary about your insanity. You’re a full-time fruit loop!”

  A chocolate-rich smile curving his lip, he started to wrap his arm around her waist but she shimmied away. “Come on, be nice. I’m a decent guy. I promise you’ll never, ever regret marrying me.”

  “Oh, hell no. I am not marrying you.” Frannie spun in a huff and pounded down the stairs.

  Jinx followed close on her heels. “You just said yes. I have a dozen witnesses out there.”

  She made it back to the living room before whirling on him. “That was when I thought you were a suicidal maniac. Now you’re just a regular old maniac. It makes the verbal contract null and void.”

  With dancing eyes and cheeks flushed from the wintry air, he seemed so very alive, so full of zest and energy. How could he have fooled her into believing he would have jumped? She felt like a fool.

  “You are such a spitfire.” He chuckled, moving as if to kiss her. Quickly, she picked up Hocus and held the cat in front of her like a shield. Growling with a fierceness much too large for his small body, Hocus glared at Jinx with shining yellow eyes.

  “Touch me and I’ll sic my killer cat on you.”

  “Okay, okay.” He held his hands up. “No kisses in front of the pussy.”

  “Jinx, look.” Frannie put down the squirming cat with a resigned sigh and pulled the dark-haired man down to sit beside her on the couch. “I think it’s very sweet you’re kind of obsessed with me right now. But honestly, you need to stop. We are not destined for each other, we are not getting married and you do not love me. We barely know each other. Love at first sight is something that only happens in books and movies, not to real people.”

  “Why not?” He reached for her hand.

  “It just doesn’t.” Exasperation made her antsy. She hopped up and paced the room. Spying her romance book, she grabbed it and held it up to him. The brawny, bare-chested man on the cover had longer blond hair than the half-naked woman in his embrace.

  Jinx glanced at it, arched his brow and looked at her with a bemused twinkle in his eye.

  “See? This is fantasy. It’s a wonderful story of all-consuming magical love that doesn’t really exist. It’s a story, a fairytale for adult women with a semi-pornographic cover. There are no Prince Charmings and Cinderellas outside of Disney.” Disgusted, she tossed the book back onto the coffee table. “The characters in those books are all beautiful and confident and disgustingly romantic. Real people aren’t like that.”

  “But why not? Someone wrote that book, the idea appealed to someone.” He picked up the discarded book and held Fabio and his bimbo in front of her face. “How do you know this doesn’t exist? Because you’ve never experienced it? Well, me either, but I’m experiencing it now. This is real. I want to marry you.”

  Frannie dragged her hands through her short hair with a low growl, staring at the totally delicious and totally frustrating man before her. He could have walked directly out of the pages of many of those romance books. Except for the fact he was clearly clinically insane.

  “Stop saying that! It’s not real, you nut. Those books are fiction. As in false. As in made up. Just like this love-at-first-sight thing you keep talking about. It isn’t real. They’re just words strung together. You can’t believe everything you read. It’s just dreams and fantasies and a bunch of things that never happen to real people.”

  “Then why do you read them?”

  Groaning, Frannie flopped on the couch beside him. How could she answer that? She read them because her heart dreamed. Dreamed of things her mind knew were never going to happen. Deep inside her down-to-earth personality lurked a princess aching for a prince. But real life was never as good as the Happily Ever After in print. She knew they were lies, knew firsthand how fake they were. Her ex-husband had shown her that plain enough.

  “Damn it, Frannie, I married you, didn’t I? You act like now I should bow down and kiss your ass every day. It’s not like she meant anything. It was just some harmless fun for a few weeks. Get off my back.”

  Reverently, Jinx took her hand and brought it to his lips, tearing her from her memory. His mouth sent a crackling current straight up her arm to her chest, where her heart started to pound. Her body reacted even when her mind was holding up a neon stop sign. Somewhere along the way she’d lost her direction. She wasn’t sure exactly when but just looking into his eyes, feeling his warm breath on her fingers and the gentle strength in his hands, had confused her. Why was she fighting him again?

  “Frannie, please, listen to me. I understand how this looks. Just trust me, will you? Trust me and see where this leads? What could it hurt? Worst-case scenario is you have a good time for a few weeks.”

  Drowning in the depths of his tender gaze, she struggled to remember what she knew when he wasn’t around. He was McHottie and she was Simple Suzy. Sexually, they had a chemistry that was undeniable. The man gave off sparks like a bumper skimming asphalt. Paint probably blistered when he walked by. She was nothing special. She was just the object of the minute in an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord of women. She would end up crying into her pillow when he realized not even a ball gown and a fairy godmother could change her into his dream girl.

  Mind wandering as she watched his lips move, she recalled their taste and the feel of them against her skin. He befuddled her. She hated that. Although she was normally levelheaded and practical, his unpredictability knocked her for a proverbial loop. And loopy was his department, not hers.

  Shaking off the euphoric web he spun, she pulled her hands away from his. “I can’t think when you go around proclaiming how perfect we are for each other. You have to stop asking me to marry you. Or rather telling me you’re going to marry me. Not only is it a mere product of your delusional mind, it’s annoying.”

  Lights lit in his eyes. “Okay, I promise I’ll stop proposing. After we’ve gotten to know each other more, I’ll get down on one knee and ask you to marry me one last time. If by then you can’t say yes, then I really am wrong and will l
eave you alone. Can we try that? Can we try and let whatever this is between us just happen?”

  His gaze pleaded with her to take a chance. Closing her eyes against a sudden rush of unnamed emotions, she gave up. He’d worn her down, bowled her over and captivated the private corner of her heart that she never let anyone see. She couldn’t fight him any longer. Somehow he knew her secret. She wanted desperately to be cherished. He tempted her with her most private fantasies. When faced with what you have never even admitted to yourself you want, willpower was useless.

  A deep sigh signaled defeat. She nodded. And then he kissed her. Softly, sweetly, as if she was the most prized possession in the world. Resigned, she shook her head. “And right after that, I’ll have you committed.”

  {

  “You are crazy!”

  “What? It’s just a restaurant, Frannie. We’re supposed to be celebrating and celebrations mean chocolate. This place has the best dessert menu in town.”

  Tiny snowflakes circled in the brisk wind, dancing like drunken ballerinas. Frannie shivered and hopped from one foot to the other. It was finally time to drag out her winter coat. Tomorrow she would do that. Provided she did not freeze to death tonight.

  “The Blue Jay’s too fancy. We can’t go in dressed in jeans.”

  “Sure we can. Come on.” Jinx grabbed her hand and pulled her into the brightly lit restaurant. The welcoming warmth began to thaw out her frozen hands but Frannie backed out of the polished glass doorway.

  “We can’t do this.”

  “Yes, we can. Come on, Frannie, live a little. Cut loose and have some fun. You’re wound so tight you’re going to break any minute.” Jinx rubbed her upper arms through her not-quite-heavy-enough jacket.