“Hold your horses, I’m coming as fast as I can…” her words trailed off when she opened the door and found Jake standing on the front porch. As always he seemed to fill up the space with his broad shoulders and lazy smile. He was wearing soft-looking jeans, a deep blue shirt, and a light tan cowboy hat sat tipped back on his dark head of hair. Damn, he looked good.
From his casual manner no one would know they’d been at each other’s throats the last time they spoke. No hint that she’d foolishly offered to let him have his way with her. Or that he’d said thanks, but no thanks. So, she sought to echo his devil-may-care pose, while wondering what the heck he wanted and why the heck he was there. He usually only showed up when he thought she needed rescuing from something.
“Hey, Marla Jean.” He grinned and greeted her like they were long-lost buddies, best pals forever, and all that nonsense. That was good, she supposed. She would be glad to pretend nothing had ever happened. “I was in the neighborhood, and thought I’d stop by to give you the name of my real estate lady.” He pulled a business card from his shirt pocket and handed it to her.
“Thanks, but you shouldn’t have gone to any trouble.”
“It was no trouble, and besides, I also wanted to give you this.” From behind his back he pulled out a single cowboy boot and presented it to her with a self-satisfied smile. It was beige with green vines and daisies, orange and white ones, strewn across it.
She eyed it guardedly. “That’s very thoughtful, but why pray-tell are you giving me a boot?” She stood balanced on one foot with her hand braced on the doorframe.
“Because I owe you a boot.” He held it out again, but she still didn’t take it.
“You don’t owe me a boot, but even if you did, what in tarnation am I going to do with just one?”
He shrugged like it wasn’t his problem. “That’s all you ruined when you kicked my tire. I don’t think I’m responsible for the whole pair.” Then he winked.
She blinked at him and then frowned. Why in the world was he winking at her? “You’re a real funny guy, Jake. By the way, that boot doesn’t even match the one I ruined.”
“It’s pretty close. Flowers and green winding viney things. No one will notice the difference.”
She crossed her arms across her chest and decided to play along. “So, how did you manage to just buy one boot?”
“Hmm, well, that was a bit of a problem. They wouldn’t sell me just the one, so I had to buy the pair.”
“But you’re just giving me this one.”
“If you want to buy the other one, I’ll give you a good deal.” He smiled again, and she could have sworn he was flirting with her. But that didn’t make a lick of sense. Not after the conversation they’d had in his office.
But she didn’t have time to figure him out right now. She needed to finish getting ready for her date with his secret brother. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m kind of busy right now, Jake.”
His grin faded to a look of concern. “Hey, you shouldn’t be standing up, and speaking of boots, why aren’t you wearing that walking contraption?”
“I’m not wearing that walking contraption because you interrupted me. As you can see, I was in the middle of painting my toenails.”
He looked down at her bare feet. “That’s an interesting shade of purple.”
“Purple? I wouldn’t dream of putting something so mundane on my toes. Don’t you recognize Plum Rum Raisin Passion when you see it?” She started hopping back to the couch.
He followed, closing the door behind him. “Hey, hold up. Let me help you.”
“I don’t need any help. I’m getting around just fine these days.” Marla Jean sat down and propped her injured foot back on the coffee table. She picked up the purple nail polish and shook the bottle. Then she unscrewed the top and started putting polish on her “this little piggy had roast beef” toe.
“So, I guess you have a hot date with Harry?”
“Not tonight. He’s over at the high school watching film, getting ready for next week’s play-off game.”
“Oh yeah, the whole town’s pumped up about the chance to beat Cedar Valley. Are you going?” Jake took his hat off and set it on the end table, then he made himself at home in a side chair, holding the cowboy boot in his lap.
“No, the game is up in Dallas, and Harry will be busy with the team the whole time.” She’d tried to make it clear to Harry that she wasn’t interested in anything serious, and she hoped he was beginning to take the hint.
Jake leaned forward in his chair. With great interest, as if she were performing a delicate operation, he watched as she painted her toenails. “I don’t get it. Why do women like to paint themselves up so much?”
“For the same reason you like to remodel houses. We need a bit of caulk and Spackle to fill in all the cracks every once in a while. It gives us the illusion that we’re bright and shiny and new.”
“You don’t need any remodeling. You’ve got good bones and a sturdy foundation.”
“Well, if you aren’t the silver-tongued devil?”
“You know what I mean, Marla Jean. You don’t need make-up to look good.”
“That’s awfully kind, but maybe I enjoy putting on a little war paint now and then. It speaks to the inner hussy in me, so mind your own beeswax.”
He held up his hands. “Hey, Spackle away. It’s no skin off my nose. I was just trying to be nice.”
“You forget I’m a single woman these days. Before I can even dream of stepping one foot out the door, I have to tart myself up, especially if I’m going to catch the eye of the eligible men in this town.” She waggled her eyebrows at him.
“You don’t seem to be having any trouble in that department.” He didn’t say it like he considered that a good thing. “Speaking from a man’s perspective, I think most women look better without all that stuff on their face.”
Marla Jean finished her toes and screwed the lid back on the polish. Keeping them propped up on the edge of the table to dry, she leaned back into the couch cushions, crossed her arms over her chest, and gave him an assessing look. “Just to satisfy my curiosity, name another woman you think looks better without make-up.”
He gave her the fish eye. “Is this a trick question?”
“You started down this road, buddy. Just answer the question.”
He looked up at the ceiling like he was pondering likely candidates. “Uh, Irene Cornwell, maybe?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
He nodded as if to confirm confidence in his choice. “I’d say she’s a natural beauty.”
Marla coughed. “Next thing you’ll be telling me, you believe those boobies are original equipment, too.”
He glared like he’d been insulted. “Not likely. We all have our area of expertise and the female anatomy happens to be mine.”
His show of righteous indignation made her laugh. “Well, I hate to break it to you, big guy, but Irene wears more make-up in a month then I wear in a year. But I’ve got to hand it to her. She’s a genius in applying it. The trick is to look like you’re not wearing anything at all.”
He scratched his chin like he wasn’t buying it. “What about Mindy Shaffer?”
“Mindy owns stock in Maybelline.”
“Leslie Gansert? Ruby Pitt?”
Marla pursed her lips and shook her head sadly.
“Well damn.”
“Oh don’t sound so disappointed. Your girlfriend Genna isn’t exactly a stranger to cosmetics, and if you act surprised at that, I’m gonna pull up a stool and watch for your nose to start growing.”
The mention of Genna seemed to annoy him. “Can we change the subject?” he asked.
She leaned forward to inspect her toes. “Fine with me. I met your brother Theo.”
He froze. “You met Theo?”
“Yes, and wasn’t that rude of you not to introduce us? You could have knocked me over with a feather when he said he was your younger brother, Jake. Who knew?” She
’d never gotten a chance to ask Linc any questions about Jake’s mysterious sibling.
Now looking completely out of sorts, Jake lunged to his feet and held out the boot. “So, do you want this or not?” He certainly wasn’t flirting now.
Before she could answer, her mom walked into the room. “Jake? Is that you? Come here and give me a hug this instant.”
His face lit up at the sight of Bitsy. After dropping the boot down on the coffee table with an indelicate thud, he walked over and wrapped her up in a big bear hug. Before letting her go, he twirled her around, making her giggle like a schoolgirl. “I swear you get younger and prettier every time I see you, Bitsy. When are you going to leave Milton and run off with me to Fiji?”
It was a standing joke between the two of them. When he was around eight, he’d seen some guy win a trip to Fiji on the Wheel of Fortune, and since then he was always promising to whisk her away.
She swatted his arm. “Oh, go on with you. You could charm the bark off that old oak tree out front. Have you had dinner yet? You should stay and eat. Linc and Dinah will be here any minute, and I want to hear how your mother’s doing.”
Taking advantage of the interruption, Marla Jean grabbed her walking boot and strapped it on her leg. Her mom would bend Jake’s ear long enough for her to make an escape to her bedroom so she could finish getting ready for her date.
She made it to the edge of the hallway when her mother called out, “Marla Jean, did you offer Jake something to drink? Do you want something to drink, Jake?” He didn’t get a chance to answer. “Where are your manners, young lady?”
Without slowing down she called back, “Sorry, Mom. I need to get changed.” She could still hear her mother fussing over him when she closed her bedroom door.
Linc poured the last of the beer into Jake’s mug. “The next pitcher is on me, but right now, I’m going to dance with my wife. Come on, Dinah, let’s show ’em how it’s done.”
Dinah didn’t need to be asked twice. She dragged her husband out onto the wooden dance floor while Willie Nelson sang about some woman who was always on his mind. Jake watched them go, trying to figure out exactly how he’d ended up spending his Friday night at Lu Lu’s watching other people dance. By other people he meant Marla Jean and Theo. That’s all he’d been doing since he arrived. Her white sweater drew his attention like a flag of surrender. Maybe he’d cut in later just to see if it was as soft as it looked.
Not that you could call what the two of them were doing dancing. Because of her walking boot, it could better be described as standing way too close and swaying to the music. They both seemed perfectly happy with the situation. And he couldn’t come up with a single logical reason to object, but more and more his thoughts about Marla Jean defied anything resembling logic.
When he found himself in the boot store that afternoon looking at women’s boots he hadn’t allowed himself to examine the reasons too closely. He ended up spending way too much money for the silly-looking things, but he’d discovered he was willing to pay any amount of money to smooth things over with her. He couldn’t stop seeing her face when she’d offered herself to him. Her body, that is. Certainly not her heart or soul. She’d looked fierce, and determined, and proud.
Everything in him had wanted to pick her up and push her against the nearest wall and kiss her until neither of them could see straight. After all, she was a grown woman and could make her own mistakes. That’s what he’d told Linc. But then what? Nothing would be different, and he wasn’t willing to be one of her mistakes.
He’d felt conflicted, and tempted, and furious all at the same time. Saying no had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. By comparison, not killing his father with his bare hands all those years ago had been a piece of cake. Okay, that was an exaggeration. And that was just for starters.
When he’d driven to her house, with the peace offering of a cowboy boot, it had been to make amends. Instead he found her getting all gussied up, wearing curlers in her hair, putting on toenail polish. There had been something intimate about watching her paint her toes. And then Bitsy had refused to take no for an answer, and before he knew what had happened he was sitting at the dinner table with the whole family, except for Marla Jean.
Linc and Dinah showed up, and Milton had come in all greasy from the garage. Jake had been corralled into helping Linc set the table, just like old times, and Dinah helped Bitsy bring the food to the table. By the time Milton was cleaned up and sitting down, everything was ready. But there was still no sign of Marla Jean. He’d seen neither hide nor hair of her since she’d run off to her bedroom. He found himself watching the hallway, listening for the sound of her door opening. The woman had him tied in knots, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it.
He’d just helped himself to another pork chop and some mustard greens when the doorbell rang. That brought Marla Jean out of hiding lickety-split.
“Don’t get up. I’ll get it,” she yelled as she waddled at a respectable pace past the dining room. Her hair was down from the curlers, riots of waves flying out behind her. He caught a glimpse of tight blue jeans and a soft-looking white sweater before she disappeared from sight.
When she reappeared she was leading Theo into the dining room. Thinking his brother must have come by looking for him, Jake laid his napkin on the table and pushed his chair back so he could stand up. “Hey, Theo, how’d you know where to find me?”
Theo looked at him and then back at Marla Jean and everything clicked into place for Jake even before Theo cleared it up for everyone else. “Hey, Jake, I didn’t know you were here. I came to pick up Marla Jean.”
Without a word, he sat back down, fighting the urge to protest. It wasn’t any of his business what Marla Jean did. Wasn’t that what he’d preached to Lincoln only a few days ago?
“We’ve got a date,” Theo continued. “She was nice enough to offer to take me dancing at Lu Lu’s.”
Lincoln stood up and held out a hand to Theo. “It’s been a long time, Theo. It’s nice to see you again.” The two men shook hands before Linc turned to his sister. “How are you going to dance with that thing on your leg, sis?”
Marla Jean ignored him and wrapped a hand around Theo’s arm. “We should get going and let y’all finish eating.” She looked anxious to be gone.
Milton stood up. “Aren’t you going to introduce your young man to the rest of us, Marla Jean?”
“Sorry, Daddy. Theo, this is my father Milton, my mother Bitsy. You seem to know my brother Lincoln, and this is his wife Dinah. And of course, you know Jake. Everybody, this is Theo, Theo Jacobson. He’s new in town.”
Theo waved. “Nice to meet you all.”
“Jacobson?” Bitsy’s head swiveled back and forth from Theo to Jake before concluding, “You must be related to Jake. You look just like him.”
Everyone started asking questions at once, and after the hubbub died down, Marla Jean dragged him out of there as fast as her orthopedic boot would let her.
As soon as the door closed on the departing couple, Lincoln asked, “So, how long has Theo been in town?”
“Just a few days. He’s helping me finish my folks’ house. He hasn’t told me what he has planned after that.” He didn’t want to answer a lot of questions about Theo.
Lincoln looked thoughtful, but didn’t ask any other questions. Neither did anyone else.
Dinah grabbed Lincoln’s arm. “Let’s go to Lu Lu’s, Linc. I could use a night out on the town. Jake, you should come, too.”
It hadn’t been hard to persuade him to tag along. For some perverse reason, he’d convinced himself it would be a good idea to have a front row seat observing Marla Jean and Theo on a date. Now he wasn’t so sure. But here he sat, surrounded by men and women drinking, dancing, and hooking up.
Except for him.
Not that a few women hadn’t come around trying to interest him in a few sashays around the dance floor. Some like Irene Cornwell had been more persistent than others. But except to wonder how
much make-up they had slapped on their faces, he couldn’t seem to work up any enthusiasm.
He tipped his chair back on two legs, nursed his beer, and continued watching Marla Jean and Theo dance.
Chapter Nineteen
Get lost, Donny Joe.”
Ignoring the suggestion Donny Joe pulled out a chair and sat down next to Jake. “Who’s that dancing with Marla Jean? I thought it was you at first glance, and then I caught sight of you sitting over here all by your lonesome playing guard dog.”
“I’m not playing guard dog. I’m here with Linc and Dinah.” His eyes never left Marla Jean and Theo.
Donny Joe joined him in watching the couple for a few minutes. When Marla Jean threw back her head and laughed at something Theo said, Donny Joe was moved to remark, “That’s one mighty fine-lookin’ woman.” Jake didn’t respond, but Donny Joe was obviously feeling chatty. He pointed at Marla Jean with his chin, and asked, “So, who’s the new competition?”
Jake took a sip of beer. “He’s my brother.”
Donny Joe’s head swiveled around to gape. “You have a brother?”
“I just said I did, didn’t I?”
Donny Joe poked the brim of his cowboy hat up with his thumb. “And he’s going after your woman? If that don’t beat all.”
“She’s not my woman, Donny Joe.” Patience was a virtue, but he wasn’t feeling all that virtuous at the moment.
“That’s not what you insinuated when you pulled her out of my truck, now is it.”
“That was different. I was playing guard dog that night.”
“Whatever you say, old man.” Donny Joe smirked and leaned back in his chair.
Jake fought the urge to knock him on his ass. He rose halfway out of his chair. “You want to take this outside?”
Donny Joe stood up, too. “Hell, no. I’m a lover not a fighter. Think they’ll mind if I cut in?” With that he sauntered onto the dance floor with a troublemaking grin on his face.
Ain't Misbehaving (9781455523801) Page 16
