by A. O. Peart
Willow laughed. “How can you not? I mean, look at her.” She glanced down at Cora. The dog lifted her head and, still looking at Willow, squealed quietly.
“She’s a master of guilt inducing behavior, and you’re rewarding her for it by giving in. But okay, you can share with her a tad, not too much,” I said.
“Is that true?” Willow cooed to Cora, standing up to get a small dish for her.
Cora looked at me as if for permission. I didn’t say anything, waiting for Willow to give her food. I knew Cora would wait until I allowed her to dig in. She was properly trained to obey. Willow placed two raviolis in a small bowl and put it on the floor. Cora kept her eyes on me.
I nodded to her and said, “You can have it.”
Only then did she start to eat. Good girl. Actually, she scarfed down the small portion Willow gave her in just one bite. Licking her muzzle, she glanced at Willow, whined a little, and then kept her eyes glued to my face.
“Beggar.” I patted Cora on the head. “Your googly eyes won’t work on me, missy.”
That made Willow giggle. “She’s so smart. She knows how to get what she wants.”
“Believe me, I know.” I chuckled.
“Rita, what time do you need to go to work today?” Willow asked.
She pointed to her mouth while chewing. She chewed some more, swallowed, and said, “I need to leave around three-thirty. You never know what kind of traffic I’m gonna hit on the way there. My shift starts at four-thirty, but I have to get some stuff ready before opening.”
“Oh, that’s in little over an hour.” Willow realized it was already after two p.m. Where did the day go?
“Yeah.” Rita shrugged. “That’s manageable.”
I had to convince Willow to go to my place. So, I took a long gulp of my Coke, put the can down on the table, and glanced from Willow to Rita. “I don’t think you should stay here, Willow. I know Seth is back in jail and most likely won’t be getting out for a while, but you might not be completely safe in this building.”
Rita watched Willow curiously. She didn’t offer any comment, probably wanting to see where I was going with this.
Willow’s hand with the fork stopped half way to her mouth while she looked at me. “You mean someone might try to revenge him?” She sounded incredulous.
“I’m just being cautious. There might be a possibility of his buddies or family members coming here to get something from the apartment for example. If they ran into you, we can’t be sure what could happen.”
“Jack has a point,” Rita agreed, nodding. “I’ve told you a million times that you’re always welcome here and you can stay with me, but what if you’re on your way out and you run into some of Seth’s friends on the stairs? It scares me to even think about that.”
Chewing on her fingernail, Willow seemed to analyze what we both said. “I really can’t go to my mom’s. She can’t see my like this.”
“I agree that’s a bad idea.” I shook my head from side to side.
“No way. She can’t know what happened to you,” Rita added.
“My invitation stands,” I commented quietly. “And when I’m at work, I can arrange for one of my trusted friends, or my family, to check on you.”
Willow nodded almost imperceptibly, but judging by her expression, she wasn’t sure if that was such a brilliant idea.
She pushed the chair away from the table and stood up. Clasping her hands in front of her, she stood by the window. After a few silent moments, Rita reached out and touched her back. “Hey, what are you thinking so hard about?”
Willow took a deep breath and turned toward us. Her eyes met mine. There was a serious battle going on behind those eyes. I didn’t want to pressure her, so I remained quiet. We stayed like that, gazing at each other for a couple more heartbeats, until she tore her eyes from mine and took a deep, slow breath. Her chest expanded and then slowly deflated.
She was small-breasted, but that suited her slim figure. Even her name was perfect for her willowy build. I liked her build—now even more than ever before. She was curvier than I recalled, and that thought made my heart beat faster. My gaze slid slowly down her flat stomach to her hips and down to that sweet spot I remembered so well. Damn, what was I doing! I quickly looked away before Willow had a chance to notice.
“Thank you, Jack. It makes a lot of sense to stay at your place for a few days. You’re a good friend to have.” She tried to sound certain, but there wasn’t much conviction in her voice.
I understood her reservations. After all, we had a very rocky past, and now I unexpectedly walked into her life, while she was in a vulnerable spot. In all honesty, I had no idea how to improve the situation, how to make Willow feel more comfortable with the idea of staying with me.
Rita was grinning from ear to ear, looking from me to Willow and back. She was plotting something, but what? I hoped she didn’t develop any ideas about me and Willow getting back together, because, I was sure, that was not on Willow’s to-do list. But I would be a lying prick if I denied that very thought crossed my mind more than once. I wanted her back, and not just for a few days. I wanted to rekindle the relationship I’d destroyed, and make us both burn.
Rita opened her mouth to speak, but Willow said in a rush, cutting her off, “I didn’t unpack any of the bags we brought from upstairs yesterday, so that will make things easier.”
For some strange reason she looked guilty after making that statement. Why would she feel guilty about not unpacking her own stuff? Ah, I had an idea, and it made me grin from ear to ear: maybe it was because I took a special care in folding and arranging her clothes in the suitcases last night. She seemed surprised and impressed while watching me pack her belongings. Now they must’ve been terribly wrinkled, and maybe what bothered her wasn’t that the clothes lost their neat appearance, but because I might’ve thought she didn’t value my effort. I didn’t think that, of course, but she looked so cute, squirming and blushing that the smartypants asshole in me decided not to make this easy for her. I know, it was a nasty thing to do, but also completely harmless.
“It should all fit into Jack’s truck. Or you can leave whatever you don’t need in here.” Rita beamed.
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that to you. There isn’t enough space in your place to stash my belongings. Besides, I have storage, so it’s no problem.”
“Everything will easily fit in my truck, no worries,” I declared. “Now, sit and finish your lunch, Willow.”
That got her attention. She paused, looking at me with her brows raised, as if challenging what sounded like a command, but I held her eyes. The corners of her mouth slowly lifted and, wordlessly, she sat down to eat.
Rita was playing with Cora and not paying us attention. I saw a little spark of increased interest in Willows eyes. There wasn’t much, but there was enough for me to notice.
Chapter Twelve
I should’ve been proud of myself for doing what was one of the worse things for me—for making a quick, but important, decision. I hesitated only for a moment when Jack reminded me of his offer to let me stay with him for a few days. I didn’t have any other options, really, and Rita seemed comfortable with the idea. I trusted her. She was sharp as a whip, and the best friend who had never led me astray. Besides, she told me more than once that she knew Jack and would vouch for him.
So, I just made up my mind and went for it. I figured, if there were any issues, I would simply call Rita and ask her if I could return. She assured me that I had the place to stay with her, no matter what.
The three of us loaded all my stuff onto Jack’s pickup truck. He secured the cover on the truck’s bed and turned to Rita. “Stay out of trouble tonight.”
She made undignified sound and flipped him off. “You stay out of trouble. And keep my Willow safe.”
“Yes ma’am.” He smiled a little. There was so much mischief in his twinkling eyes. Something warm and pleasant stirred inside me. I felt at ease and protected. I trusted Jack.
He turned to me, bending his head to look in my eyes. He was six foot four, if I remembered correctly, while I barely reached five foot six. “You will drive right behind me, okay? Stay in my range of vision, so I know where you are all the time.”
I doubted someone was lurking around the corner, waiting for the right moment to assassinate me, but I didn’t want to argue. Jack has always been overprotective of me, and I decided to humor him by simply going along with his obsession.
I got inside my car and closed the door. He stooped down to look in my window and made a cranking motion with his hand, indicating for me to roll the window down. I did, and he leaned over, resting his bent arms alongside the opening. He smelled good, like a mix of something very masculine, a faint cologne, and leather. “I will slow down near every traffic light to make sure we won’t get separated at the red light. But if that somehow happens, I will pull over and wait for you.
“Jack, what’s really going on?” I frowned at his words. “It’s not like someone is after me. Why do we have to be on such high alert?”
“No high alert. Just a precaution.” His face didn’t register any emotion besides patience.
I could think of nothing to say to his statement, so I just nodded and fastened my seatbelt.
Jack played a short staccato rhythm with his hands on the opening part of my door, right where the glass of my window was about to roll up. “We’re driving to Healy Heights.” He grinned at me, straightened, and went to his truck. I’d always adored his smile. It transformed his face, making me feel like it was an invitation to play some silly game.
Healy Heights was a nice part of town in the south end of Portland. It was quiet and safe. I followed Jack’s truck, and we arrived at his house about twenty minutes later. It was a two story home with a tall fence wrapped around it. Trees and shrubs were visible from above the fence. Jack opened the gate with a remote control from his vehicle, and we drove past it, all the way inside the garage. I parked next to his truck and got out of my car. Jack closed the garage door. It rolled down, the mechanism protesting loudly.
“Welcome to my humble abode.” He started to remove the cover from his truck bed.
“Not so humble.” I laughed, looking around.
His garage was spacious, with a work bench in the far right corner and one whole wall of shelves housing various containers and other necessities. Everything seemed to be in place, neatly organized. I was impressed and surprised at the same time.
“This looks great, with everything nicely arranged.” I motioned around.
“Well, I figure, if I keep it where it belongs, I can always find it,” Jack grunted, pulling the big suitcase off the truck and setting it on the garage floor. He climbed up and grabbed the duffle bag. “I will show you to your room. It’s on the second floor. I’m sleeping downstairs.”
“Not on a sofa, are you?” I asked suspiciously. I wouldn’t want him to give up his bed to me.
“Oh, no. The master bedroom that I occupy is on the main floor, and my guest suite is upstairs. I think you’ll be comfortable there. You’ll have your own bathroom with a full bath.”
“Wow, you’re spoiling me!” I exclaimed, laughing.
He glanced at me, smiling gently. “Maybe it’s time for someone to start treating you right?”
My jaw dropped a little. Was he making fun of me? No, I didn’t think so. I wasn’t sure how to react, so I took it the only way I knew—I smiled back at him and said, “Maybe so. Everyone should be treated well.”
“True.” He nodded. “But some really don’t deserve it.”
Okay, he had a point, but I didn’t want to get into that subject now. I had enough of my internal struggle over it, so I felt a rush of relief when Jack changed the subject. “Let’s go inside. I apologize for taking you in through the garage and not the front door, as it should be.”
“No worries. Come on, Jack, I’m not some kind of a fragile princess.” I picked up one of the bags and hoisted it over my shoulder. My purse was in my hand and I tried to grab another bag, but Jack was faster.
He winked at me, concealing a smile, and then passed me, carrying my luggage through the door and inside the house. I stood there for a few seconds, trying to figure out if this was the same Jack I knew. Maybe not. People often changed, given the circumstances. Four years with the Marines followed by two as a firefighter surely made certain adjustments to his personality. Somewhere, deep inside, I started to believe that these adjustments were highly positive.
I carried my bag and my purse inside. Jack held the door and stood aside, welcoming me in with a wide swipe of his arm. As soon as I walked in, and the door closed, he reached out for my luggage and took it from my hand.
“I’ll carry it up the stairs and leave it in your room. Do you want to see the bedroom now, or do you prefer to relax down here. I have cookies and milk.” His boyish smile and twinkling eyes were back.
I couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m going with you to see the upstairs, but those cookies and milk sound very tempting.” I followed him to the second floor.
“Tell you what. We can have the cookies right away. Milk too.”
He was totally making fun of me.
The staircase opened up to a wide hallway with three doors on each side. The curiosity got a better of me. I didn’t realize the house was so large.
As if sensing my interest, Jack motioned to the nearest door on his right. “This is my linen closet. The next door is your suite, and the one after that is another spare bedroom. These ones here,” he motioned to the doors on the left, are an extra bathroom, a bedroom, and a very special room.” He twitched his eyebrows up and down.
My heartbeat raced suddenly, as if Jack said something either scary or exciting. Which it was, I couldn’t quite decide.
He rescued me again from my uncertainty and explained, “It’s my man cave—a TV room and, soon, a billiard room. I have it equipped with comfortable recliners, a big-screen TV, and a well-stocked bar. Don’t forget the surround sound.”
My eyes must’ve become very big and round, because he burst out laughing. “You look as if I told you it’s some kind of freakin’ Taj Mahal.
“It sounded like it.” I put my hands on my hips. His easy laugh was contagious, and so we stood, facing each other, chuckling.
“Come on.” Jack pulled me by my wrist.
His hand was warm and felt strong against my skin. Surprising myself, I welcomed the contact. It was different from yesterday, when he held me for comfort. I needed comforting then more than anything else, but now I felt more assured, more in control.
The man cave looked nothing like a cave of course. Not that I expected it to. It was long and wide—the size of about three small bedrooms like Rita’s. A large window was half-covered with dark curtains made of thick, good quality fabric. The perpendicular wall housed a giant flat-screen TV, flanked by the speakers. A small sofa stood in the corner of the room, and a row of oversized, plush recliners with drink holders in each arm occupied the space in front of the television. I glanced to the other side and noticed another recliner—smaller and much older than the others, but looking even more comfortable. A small, sturdy bookcase filled with colorful volumes stood by the recliner.
The carpet under my sock-clad feet felt soft and well-cushioned. I pointed to the bookcase. “Is this your reading spot?”
“One of them.” He shrugged.
“Wait… I remember that recliner!” I rushed to the piece of furniture by the bookcase. It was well-loved, its arms threadbare in spots. I ran my hand over it and smiled, looking back at Jack.
He stood where I left him, arms folded over his thick chest, biceps bulging from under his short sleeves. He looked like a statue of some Greek god with the perfect lines to his hard body, his chiseled face, and dark, shiny hair.
My sharp intake of breath made me realize that I stopped breathing for a moment. That was silly of me. I chastised myself and cleared my throat, trying to sound and act casual. I
turned to the recliner and inspected it again. “Is this the same one? The one you had in high school at your parents’ house?”
“The very one.” Jack nodded, his eyes narrowing in delight.
Uh-oh, I just realized something. The thought made my face burn, quickly turning it a bright shade of red. This was the piece of furniture on which I lost my virginity to Jack.
Chapter Thirteen
She remembered it. It was like a trip down memory lane for me, with Willow standing next to my old recliner. It was the only piece I took from my parents’ home when I bought my house last year. I spent countless hours sprawled comfortably in it, like in a lover’s arms. It was somewhat true—the lovers part—since that recliner symbolized to me the only lover from my past that never left my heart or my head. Willow Conrad, the girl who turned my world upside down all those years ago, and now was back to finish the job.
Willow hurriedly squatted next to the bookcase, suddenly very interested in the books on the second shelf from the bottom. She pulled one out and flipped through the pages. I came up right behind her and deliberately sat in the recliner, throwing one leg over the arm of the chair.
I stretched my arms over my head and said, “So are you a paperback or a digital girl?” I was making small talk to put her at ease. The last thing I wanted was for her to become anxious that I was trying to seduce her. Sweet Lord, of course I would, but never against her wishes.
She blinked at me, as if not understanding what I asked. But then a smile spread on her face, and she said, “Oh, sorry. I was kinda deep inside here.” She pointed to her head.
“Must be a fascinating place to wander.”
“I doubt that.” She snorted. “So, paperback or digital? Either, depending on my mood.”
“Right answer. It’s my answer as well, so it must be right.” I grinned at her, watching her from under my half-closed eyelids.
Willow sat back on her heels and tilted her head, looking at me suspiciously.
