Ain't Misbehaving (9781455523801)
Page 17
Genna stopped by to see if he wanted to dance. He said sure, and led her around the floor a few times. She flirted like she always did, and he tried to respond. Tried to fall into the old familiar rhythm they’d had for years, but soon enough she got the message that he wasn’t fit company, especially when she pointedly followed his gaze and found it trained on Marla Jean. He hardly noticed when she said, “Screw you, Abel Jacobson,” and stomped off, leaving him alone on the dance floor.
From what he could tell, Marla Jean didn’t seem to be suffering any ill effects from his rejection. And that was good. It wasn’t like he wanted her to be all torn up just because she’d come right out and offered to have sex with him and he’d politely declined. Like she said, it was a straightforward offer of physical intimacy, not a marriage proposal. So, there was no reason to look for any emotional fallout. No reason at all.
He watched Donny Joe cut in, tapping Theo on the shoulder in the time-honored way. Theo gave a half bow and relinquished Marla Jean. She touched his arm as if to make sure he didn’t mind, and then Donny Joe practically picked her up and whirled her away.
Damn it all. Jake sat there feeling like his best efforts with Marla Jean had missed the mark. Hadn’t he’d tried to do the right thing for everyone concerned? But now he couldn’t shake the feeling that despite the nature of her offer, and even if she was still hung up on Bradley, she’d honored him somehow—trusted him—and he’d thrown that trust back in her face. The idea didn’t sit right with him. In fact, it made him feel lousy.
An idea flitted through his head. And the more he thought about it, the more he thought he might have a way of making things up to her. Linc walked back to the table carrying a new pitcher of beer, while Dinah accompanied him, balancing three fresh mugs.
They both looked happy and hot and invigorated. “We come bearing liquid refreshment.” Linc barely set the pitcher down when Jake stood up, sloshing the beer onto the table. “Hey, watch it, buddy.”
“Sorry, but I need to talk to Marla Jean.” The three of them turned to look at her. She was still dancing with Donny Joe. Theo hovered nearby like he planned to move back in at any minute.
“What do you need to talk to Marla Jean about?” Linc demanded.
Dinah dragged him into his seat by his shirtsleeve. “That’s none of our concern, Linc. Drink up, hon, ’cause they’re about to play ‘Cotton Eyed Joe,’ and we aren’t sitting it out this time.”
Without giving Linc a chance to protest further, Jake ate up the dance floor with big strides, reaching the trio just as the song ended. Theo stepped back up trying to reclaim Marla Jean, but Donny Joe didn’t seem ready to release her just yet.
“Marla Jean?” They all turned at his voice. Theo stood on one side of her, with a hand resting on her arm. Donny Joe held the other. Jake ignored both men, his eyes boring into hers. “I believe this is my dance.”
For a split second Marla Jean looked uncertain, but she recovered and said smoothly, “I do believe you’re right, Jake.”
The strains of Johnny Lee singing about looking for love in all the wrong places poured from the jukebox as he stepped between the two men and then whisked her away. With his hand at the small of her back he guided her to a secluded corner. He’d been right about the white sweater she was wearing. It was soft, like the skin along the inside of a woman’s thighs, and the warmth of her bled through the material, infusing his hand with hot memories of how it had felt to touch her. She moved gracefully to the music, even with the walking boot. Tilting her head back, she looked into his eyes. “Did you think I needed rescuing again?”
“You looked like you had a handle on the situation.”
“So, you just had the sudden urge to dance? I’m pretty sure there’s no shortage of willing women here tonight, Jake. You should take mercy on all the hearts you’ve broken, sitting alone at that table all night long.”
He detected a heaping helping of sarcasm, but ignored it. “I needed to talk to you about something.”
“If it’s about your brother, and who I can and can’t go out with—”
“It has nothing to do with the men you pick.”
She didn’t look like she believed him. “Go on then. I’m listening.”
“It’s about a house. You said you wanted one. Well, I have one I think you should consider.”
“You do?” Her face lit up with interest. “Where is it?”
“It’s out on Cowslip Lane—the old Brown place. I bought it a couple of years back. Never got around to fixing it up or selling it. I think it would suit you.”
“The Brown place? Oh, my. When I was a teenager, Patsy Brown would have sleepovers there sometimes. She had the biggest bedroom with French doors that opened right onto a screened-in porch that held umpteen hammocks and all these wooden gliders. We’d fall asleep in the hammocks to the sound of crickets and wake up to the sound of birds singing.”
He smiled at her enthusiasm. “And, Marla Jean, there’s a converted chicken coop in the back. It gets good light. I was thinking it might make nice place for you to paint.” Admitting he knew how important painting was to her bordered on letting things get too personal, and he was relieved she let it go without comment.
“Oh, Jake, I always loved that house, but it’s huge and it must cost a fortune.”
“It’s not too big. And it does need work, so I’m willing to give you a good deal. You’d actually be doing me a favor by taking it off my hands.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She practically shimmered with anticipation. He could see her mind working as she mulled all the possibilities.
He swayed to the music, his thigh brushing against her leg. “We could go look at it.”
“When? Not now?” she asked, though she looked ready to run out the door that instant.
It was tempting to sweep her away from this place and all these other people, put her in his truck, and drive out to the old house—all dark shadows and moonlight with her by his side. But he swiftly banished the fanciful idea. Besides, he’d kidnapped her from enough dates already, and Theo was beginning to look unhappy.
“How about tomorrow afternoon? I’ll pick you up at four, and you can take your time looking around the place.”
She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, letting out an undignified squeal to punctuate her joy. “Oh, Jake, I can’t thank you enough.”
“No thanks are needed, Marla Jean. Now I better get you back to my little brother before he takes a poke at me for horning in on his date.”
“Theo seems like a nice guy,” she told him as if she needed to explain her newest conquest.
“He is a nice guy. You won’t get an argument from me.” They headed toward the edge of the dance floor where Theo stood ready and eager to reclaim his date. Jake handed her off to his younger brother and made a little bow. “Thank you for the dance, Marla Jean.”
“Oh, it was my pleasure, Jake.” She beamed at him like he’d restored her faith in Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, and light beer that didn’t taste like dog piss. She grabbed Theo’s arm, and said to Jake, “I’ll see you tomorrow, and I can barely wait.”
Theo looked back and forth between them, not hiding his curiosity, but before he could ask any questions she said, “Can we sit this one out, Theo? I could use something to drink, and I should get off my foot for a while.”
“Sure thing, Marla Jean. Later, big brother.” With a wave in his direction they headed for a quiet table in a dark corner. Jake found himself standing on the dance floor while couples moved around him like water flowing around an unyielding boulder in the middle of a stream. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and moseyed back to the table where Dinah and Linc were hanging all over each other. Good God, how long did the newlywed phase last, anyway?
“I’m going to call it a night, guys.”
Dinah stood up and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Night, Jake.”
Linc stood up, too, and offered his hand. If it hadn’t been for a slight h
esitation, Jake might have thought things were almost back to normal. “Night, buddy.”
Jake took his friend’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “I’m happy to play the third wheel for you two love birds anytime.”
“Be careful going home,” Linc advised him good-naturedly. Then he threw his arm around his wife and pulled her close to his side.
“Careful is my middle name,” Jake confessed with a crooked grin. After a final glance in Marla Jean’s direction, he walked out of Lu Lu’s alone.
“I think he’s dumped the whole job on me, but I’m glad to have the work.” Theo was explaining what still needed to be done on the old Jacobson house. Marla Jean tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but her gaze followed Jake while he said his good-byes and left the bar. She smiled at Theo, but part of her skipped and leaped and walked right out of the building beside Jake.
She’d been having a great time. Theo was funny, polite, charming, and awfully good-looking, and dancing with him had been the most fun she’d had in a month of Sundays. She still hadn’t gotten the whole story about how he came to be Jake’s brother, or where he’d been hiding all her life. Something about being a half brother and growing up in Derbyville, but he hadn’t offered any more details, and she hadn’t pressed him on the subject.
Even dancing with Donny Joe hadn’t been a chore. Since she’d hurt her foot, his true nature, the nice guy he tried to hide for the sake of his reputation, had seeped out around the edges. She didn’t understand the interest he’d been showing her. Given his history, it was hard to take him seriously, but he’d proven to be thoughtful and helpful more than once since her unfortunate run-in with the truck tire.
So why did Jake have to turn everything topsy-turvy by simply asking her to dance? It had been impossible not to notice the way he sat, brooding and alone the entire night. His cowboy hat, low on his head, shielding his eyes, his long jean-clad legs stuck out crossed at the ankles straight in front of him, claiming the space for his own, sending a message to all but the most reckless or the most fearless to steer clear.
Then out of the blue, he wanted to dance. Granted, it had been more of a standing out of the way and talking than a dance. But still, such a little thing, his hand on her waist sent sensations trampling through her like a runaway herd on a cattle drive. It wasn’t fair. If she couldn’t sleep with him, he was going to have to stop touching her. That was all there was to it.
Tomorrow when he took her to look at the house—the Brown house, of all places—she would be careful to stay out of reach. She suppressed another involuntary squeal and turned to concentrate on Theo. Only once or twice did she catch herself pondering the many ways he resembled his older brother.
Chapter Twenty
Afternoon, Marla Jean.” Jake jumped out of his truck and hurried to open the passenger door for her.
“Hey, Jake. Isn’t it a marvelous day?” The bright smile on her face looked like it could only be removed with a chisel and a stick of dynamite.
He grinned, glancing up at the gray, cloudy sky. “I guess if you’re partial to cold and miserable. It’ll probably storm before the day is over.”
“But who cares?” Throwing her arms in the air, she added, “I’m going to look at the Brown house.”
When he had pulled up to the curb a few minutes before their agreed-upon time of four o’clock, he’d been pleased to see her sitting on her parents’ front porch waiting for him. And then she’d blasted down the front steps and had been halfway across the yard before he could get out of the truck. For a woman with broken toes, she was awfully spry.
He got back in the truck and started the engine. Marla Jean bounced up and down on the bench seat beside him like a kid high on jelly beans. “All right mister, let’s get this show on the road.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“I wonder if it’s as wonderful as I remember.”
He loved her enthusiasm, but he thought a little caution was in order. “Just remember it needs work.”
It was only a ten-minute drive, but it took them to the outskirts of Everson. The neighborhoods fell away. The houses were set farther and farther apart, until the only evidence that anyone lived out there were the mailboxes at the end of long, winding driveways.
For the whole ten-minute drive he wondered why it mattered so much that she appreciate the house as much as he did. It wasn’t as if he’d built the damn thing. But he’d always had a vision for what it could be, and since the idea of selling it to her had taken hold in his mind, he knew his vision wouldn’t be complete without Marla Jean living there, making it her own. A simple idea had turned into a powerful, probably irrational need. He wanted her to have the Brown house the same way some other man might want to drown her in diamonds and pearls.
Feeling like his idiotic thoughts must be hanging in the air above his head he risked a glance in her direction. Her eyes were wide as fried eggs, and thankfully she seemed oblivious to his state of apprehension. She beamed and said, “I’m excited, in case you haven’t noticed.”
He smiled at her eagerness. “I’ve noticed. Hang on. Here we are,” Jake said as he slowed down to make a turn. Large evergreen trees lined the drive, and Marla Jean’s head swiveled this way and that as she tried to take it all in at once.
“Oh, it’s exactly like I remember. Look at the trees, don’t you love the trees? I love the trees.”
He stepped on the brake and winked. “I can stop the truck if you want to get out and hug one.”
She laughed and swatted his arm. “Maybe on the way home.”
His uneasiness returned as they approached the house. He didn’t want to disappoint her, and he still wasn’t entirely sure what fueled his motives. As they pulled to a stop in front of the house, Jake leaned an arm on the steering wheel and turned to face her. “Despite the outward condition of the house, I can guarantee it’s solidly built, not like the shoddy construction you get with some of the new houses they throw up in ten minutes nowadays.”
“I’ll take your word for it. You’re the expert, after all.” She opened the door and hopped down from the cab before he could help. By the time he got around the truck she was standing, staring dumbstruck with her mouth hanging open.
He shuffled his feet, unable to read her reaction. “Remember, I said it needed work.” He looked at the peeling paint and a shutter that hung crookedly off the front window and could see how she’d be less than impressed. “When I bought it, I made sure the wiring and plumbing were up to code, but I haven’t managed much of anything cosmetic yet.”
She blinked and turned worshipful eyes toward Jake. “Oh my goodness, it’s perfect. Simply perfect.”
He shook his head and grinned. Everything in him relaxed. “I can see you’re going to be a hard sell. Why don’t we take the tour before you hire the movers?”
Since she was too busy gawking at the house to watch where she was going, he took her arm and led her across the leaf-covered yard and up the front steps. He noticed cracked stepping stones that would have to be reset and rips in the screening on the porch that would need to be replaced.
She stepped onto the wide wooden flooring of the porch and ran her fingers across the wire mesh that now separated them from the outside. “This porch floor used to be painted sky blue. If I buy this house, that’s one of the first things I want to do.”
He looked down at the faded porch flooring, and made a note to buy sky blue paint, then he unlocked the heavy carved wooden door and ushered her into the entryway. Once they were inside, he could barely keep up as she flitted from room to room.
In the living room she pointed to a corner flanked by two windows. “Patsy’s dad used to sit there with a sour look on his face while he read his newspaper. He never said much, but we were all scared to death of him.”
Swinging half doors separated the dining room from the kitchen. She pushed through them, laughing, making an entrance like a movie star. She found particular delight in the old-fashioned ironing board built into
the wall, and the way it folded up and out of the way when it wasn’t being used.
“Do you do much ironing?” he asked because of her enthusiasm.
She looked appalled. “You’re kidding, right? I’ve been known to give things away rather than iron them. How about you? Do you iron your own clothes?”
“Do I iron? I can put a crease in a pair of pants that would make you weep.”
She pushed the ironing board up and latched the door. “My my, what other domestic talents are you hiding, Jake?”
Before he could respond, she let out a little squeak. “Oh, the built-in breakfast nook. Isn’t it wonderful?” A three-sided booth was nestled in the back corner of the kitchen with windows that looked out onto the back yard. “We would always eat breakfast here when I spent the night with Patsy, and her father would feed us a spoonful of honey.”
“The same mean old father that didn’t talk?”
“The same one. According to Patsy, he faithfully took a spoonful of honey every day, thought it was some health cure for what ails ya, but it didn’t seem to sweeten his disposition any.”
After she rhapsodized about the nook for a few minutes longer, she pulled him out of the kitchen. “Okay, I can’t wait any longer. I have to see Patsy’s old bedroom.” He nearly lost his balance when she grabbed his arm and pulled him down the hall.
The bedroom was large and airy. Faded, peeling wallpaper covered the walls, but she didn’t seem to notice as she flew to the French doors and opened them wide. With a look of awe and trepidation, she stepped out onto the porch and then turned back to him with a big smile. “Do you know how happy I am at this very moment?”
An odd emotion filled him as he stood watching her with his hands on his hips. He wasn’t sure he could find his voice, but he asked, “Why don’t you tell me?”
“I’m so happy, I think I could cry.” She walked over and hugged him, a short, friendly hug.
His arms went around her for the briefest of touches. “That happy, huh?”
She pulled away from him, turning to gaze out the screen at the jungle of bare trees and neglected flower beds that made up the side yard. “I don’t know if I can afford this, but I really, really want it.” She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “I guess there’s no point in offering to sleep with you so I can get a better price, huh?”