by Laura Drewry
“Are you allergic?”
“N-no.”
“Good. Hold still.” He pulled out his pocketknife and, using the tip of the blade, pinched the stingers between the metal and his thumb, then very carefully eased each one out.
“Come on.” He hoisted her up and all but dragged her closer to the water. “Sit.”
“What am I, a dog?”
He ignored her as he went to retrieve the backpack, then dumped it out on the ground. He pulled a handful of napkins out of their lunch bag, dunked half of them into the icy water, and pressed them against her neck.
“How’s that?” he asked.
“Cold.”
“Good.”
He lifted the compress a couple times to have a look, and when he was certain the swelling wasn’t getting worse, he dunked the napkins in the water again, set them against her neck, then twisted her hand up enough so she could hold the compress herself.
God, he was an idiot; so busy getting all horned up, and she’s being attacked by wasps. He handed her a bottle of water and tried to lose his frown. After a while, he even succeeded, giving in to the embarrassed grin that twitched against his mouth.
“Here.” He waited until she reluctantly held out her hand, then he dropped half a dozen silver-wrapped Hershey Kisses into the middle of her palm. She snorted softly, smiled up at him till he thought he’d die, then pulled her hand down from her neck again so she could lift one of the Kisses.
“Third grade?”
“Second.” He checked her neck again, re-wet the napkins in the lake, and set them back in place. Valentine’s Day in Miss Toth’s second grade class, and twenty-odd kids were bent over their desks decorating sparkly cardboard hearts to hand out to everyone in the room. Nick wanted to give Jayne something else—a Kiss—but she turned him down flat.
“I think your exact words were ‘Eeew, Nick, that’s gross.’ ”
Her soft laughter tickled his ears and eased the rest of his frown away. “Well, if I’d known you meant a chocolate kiss, I might not have kicked you so hard.”
He flagged Carter over to have a look at Jayne’s neck, then they spent the rest of their time at the lake going back and forth between silently cursing every wasp in the Western world and then thanking them for saving him from making what could have been the biggest mistake of his life. Kissing Jayne? Was he crazy? Sure, he’d thought about it over the years, but that’s all it’d been: thoughts. He’d never actually done it because he knew she’d have killed him, and even if she didn’t kill him, things would never be the same between them.
And he hadn’t ended things with Lisa yet. Tonight. He’d do it tonight.
“Better step on it if we’re going to make the reservation,” Carter muttered. “Lisa’ll be waiting.”
“Reservation?” Jayne’s voice sounded weary, almost desperate. “You mean there’s more?”
“ ’Course there’s more,” he laughed. “You didn’t think Nick would leave you on your own for your birthday dinner, did you?”
“No, it’s just …” She twisted her fingers together in her lap and cleared her throat before finally looking up at Nick. “I think I’m all birthday’d out is all. Can we do dinner another night?”
She wasn’t fooling him—or Carter—but Nick couldn’t blame her for cutting things short after what happened at the lake. Before he could say anything, Carter was already yammering.
“If Jay’s not going, neither am I, so drop me off at your place, will you?”
Little was said the rest of the ride back. Jayne kept her gaze either straight ahead or focused on her fingers, still twisting on her lap. It didn’t take a genius to see she was working to keep her breathing slow and even, especially after they dropped Carter at the house and headed downtown.
When they got to the store, Nick hopped out and waited while she unlocked the back door.
“Too much today?”
“Little bit.” She leaned against the door frame and smiled up at him, but it didn’t even come close to her eyes. “It was great, though. Thank you.”
There couldn’t be more than a foot separating them, but it felt like a mile.
“So, uh, you busy this week?” Nick stood with his fists jammed down deep in his pockets, hoping it would keep him from reaching out and touching her.
Her shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “I’m going to be running back and forth to the city but if you need my help with something—”
“No, I uh …” He blew out a breath, then ran a hand across his mouth to muffle his curse. “I’ve got some things to take care of, and the push is on to get the Schwanns’ house finished, but I’ll catch up with you later in the week.”
“Yeah, okay. Will you get it finished?”
He blew off her question with a grunt. “How’s the neck?”
“Good. I only feel like a distant cousin of Quasimodo now.”
Why was she looking at him like that, like she had something to say, or that she was hoping he’d say something else? He had things to say, that was for damned sure, but not yet. Lisa deserved at least that much.
“I should go.” He didn’t move.
“Today was …” Jayne started to laugh, then choked over it. “It was great. Thanks.”
She kissed his cheek, and for the first time since she’d come back to town, Nick didn’t reach for her hand, he didn’t hug her, and he didn’t kiss her back. He just mumbled a goodbye, climbed in his truck, and floored it all the way to Lisa’s.
As usual, she was ready and waiting for him.
“We better hurry,” she said. “We’re already late.”
“Um, yeah. About tonight …” He bobbed his head toward the living room. “Can we talk?”
Lisa froze, her eyes unblinking. After a second, she licked her lips, eased her bangs off her forehead, and slowly lowered herself to the sofa, then waited for him to sit across from her.
“The tickets are nonrefundable, Nick.”
“What tickets?”
“For the trip.” She folded her hands over her knees and blinked up at him with those trusting green eyes, now swimming in pools of hurt, and he hadn’t even said anything yet. “To Montreal.”
Shit. He’d completely forgotten about the trip. He exhaled slowly, and leaned his elbows on his thighs. “I’m sorry.”
A slow, barely there nod, then her lips curled in behind her teeth for a second. “Did I do something?”
“No,” he muttered. “It’d make a lot more sense if you had, and it’d sure as hell make this easier.”
“Did … did you do something?” She blinked, but not fast enough to stop the first tear from slipping down her cheek.
“No.” Almost though.
They sat in silence for a few seconds as he fought to find the right words to make this easy for both of them. When none came, he went with the truth.
“Lisa,” he said, forcing himself to look into her eyes, to see the hurt he was causing. “You’re sweet and beautiful and when I look at you, I see everything I should want.”
“Should want,” she repeated slowly. “But don’t.”
“I’m an idiot.”
“Yes. Yes, you are. But I guess I am, too.” A hint of something—guilt maybe—flashed over her face. “There’s a part of me that’s expected this day to come for a while now.”
“Really?”
“Mm-hmm.” She looked down at her hands and when she finally raised her eyes to meet his, there was a tiny hint of a smile, sad as it was. “You should see your face when she’s around. You’ve never looked at me like that.”
“Lisa—” He stopped, swallowed. “It’s not her fault. I knew before she moved back that this relationship wasn’t working for me, but I guess I was hoping if I gave it a little time, I’d get there, that I could be the guy you deserve, but I’m not.”
“I know.” Lisa blinked harder, pressed the tips of her fingers below her eyes to catch the tears, never once marring her makeup. “I guess I was hoping you’d get ther
e, too.”
“I’m so sorry.” He forced himself to hold her gaze, even though every second made him feel more and more like a complete schmuck.
“Have you and she—” She raised a brow and waited.
“No.”
“But you’ve thought about it.”
Nick winced. “Yeah.”
“Does she know?”
“God no. She’d probably kill me if she found out, especially since she’s done nothing but harp about how she didn’t want to be a problem for us, that I shouldn’t spend time with her because it would make you feel bad, but, uh …” He blew out a slow breath. “This day was going to come whether Jayne’s in the picture or not, and you deserve so much better than that.”
“So I can’t blame her then?” Her sad smile lifted just enough to reach her eyes. “That’s too bad because I really want to hate her right now.”
“Hate me instead. None of this was her fault.”
She inhaled a long slow breath, held it for a second, then released it even more slowly.
“Well. I guess that means I’ll be going to the most romantic city in the country by myself then.”
She was being more gracious than Nick deserved, but that was Lisa. Always gracious, always sweet.
“I could send Carter with you.”
“No, thank you.” Her whole body shuddered over a short laugh. “I’d rather go alone.”
He watched her smile fade slowly until he was right back to where he was when he first sat down.
“Have I told you how sorry I am?” he asked, twisting his mouth into a shameful grimace.
“You might have mentioned it a couple times.”
He felt her question building before she even spoke the words, but it was like everything happened in slow motion and there was no way for him to stop her from asking it.
“Are you in love with her?”
Nick closed his eyes for a second as though doing so would save Lisa from the images blinking through his mind: five-year-old Jayne hugging him around the side of the school, then at eight, kicking him in the shins, the look on her face when he gave her the first dandelion chain, and today when he’d given her the new one, the terror that ripped through him when the spinning bottle stopped on her at Carla’s party, movies, lying on the football field, all those summers together, the day she got on that bus and drove away.
And the day she came back.
Nick opened his eyes but avoided a straight answer. “We’ve been friends our whole lives.”
“That’s not what I asked.” She sat a little straighter, tipped her chin up a little higher.
It was on his tongue to say no, as though lying would make all of this easier, but he couldn’t; the word just wouldn’t come.
“Yeah,” he finally nodded. “I think I’ve always loved her, I just never realized how much.”
“I thought so.” She cleared her throat quietly. “And are you planning on telling her anytime soon, or are you just going to sit around and waste another twenty-five years?”
“I want to, but …” Nick scrubbed his face with his palms and sighed. “Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“I need to work up to it.” He couldn’t have felt worse than he did right at that moment, and he deserved it. “What if she doesn’t say it back?”
And yeah, he deserved the snort that ripped from Lisa’s throat and every second of her harsh, mocking laughter that followed.
Chapter Fifteen
Because I’m driving you crazy and you’re driving me crazy and I’d rather not see you and have you think good things about me than have you see me and hate me. ’Cause I can’t afford to have you hate me, Keith. The only things I care about in this goddamn life are me and my drums and you.
Watts, Some Kind of Wonderful
Jayne spent the next few days as she’d spent the week before, searching the classifieds and online resources like Craigslist for books. She’d put more miles on her car in the last few weeks than she had in the last few years, but it was beginning to pay off.
The books she’d gathered to this point had been separated into genres and moved to the general areas she thought they belonged. Things had changed a lot since Gran’s day, when the sci-fi fantasy section used to be a couple shelves in the back. Jayne knew she was going to need a heck of a lot more space for it now. Westerns, sadly, not so much.
Nonfiction was a tricky section because those titles could sit a long time, but Jayne couldn’t turn down an old history book, or even better—an old reference book. She bought a set of World Book Encyclopedias from 1941 just because they were so pretty and, really, what was a bookstore without a set of encyclopedias? She knew they’d never sell but she didn’t care; she’d struck fiction gold on her last trip to the city and these would more than make up for the encyclopedias not selling.
Robert Jordan, the Little House books, twenty-five Nancy Drew hardcovers, John Jakes, Julie Garwood, a couple sets of Harry Potters, lots of Louis L’Amours, and a whole boxload of Stephen King.
Running back and forth to the city had been a great way to keep herself busy and off everyone’s radar. She’d talked to Nick briefly on the phone and texted a few times, but he was scrambling to get the Schwanns’ house finished, so it was best to leave him alone.
She met the girls for drinks on Tuesday, where she learned Maya’s husband had been seen with his chippy-ho at a local restaurant, so between the three of them, they each tried to offer some form of comfort.
After sharing her own experience with how Barry cheated on her, and how she couldn’t leave because she was too scared, and because, frankly, she couldn’t afford to, Jayne offered to let Maya stay at her apartment whenever she wanted. Ellie thought Maya should castrate the son of a bitch and be done with it, and Regan simply held Maya’s hand and made sure her glass was always full.
By midweek, Jayne was beginning to worry. She’d hardly spoken to Nick since her birthday, and the few times she had, he’d been distracted, busy trying to get the Schwanns’ house finished early, so he could (as he so vaguely put it) focus on other things.
Between runs to the city on Wednesday, she stopped in at the Cactus Café, ordered some lunch to go, then moved aside to let the next person order.
“Hey, Jayne. Good to see you.” Brett Hale reached around the counter, filled a mug with steaming hot coffee, and left a couple bucks on the counter. “Want to sit while you wait?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
They took the last table near the back, where he sat facing the front of the café. It had to be close to eighty degrees inside the restaurant, and there he sat, cool as the proverbial cucumber in his starched uniform and Kevlar, with God knows how much weight hanging off his belt. The gun alone had to weigh two or three pounds and that was only one of the scary-looking things he carried.
“Nick says you got the place looking real nice.” He sipped his coffee slowly, his dark eyes never wavering from her face.
She nodded, smiled. “It’s getting there, slowly.”
“Big job.”
There was a brief moment of silence, but for the first time in her life, Jayne didn’t fidget. She didn’t stress over it and she didn’t scramble to find something to talk about. It just happened.
“So when did you move to town?” she asked. “Don’t think you were here the last time I visited.”
“Coming on five years. Transferred from Toronto.”
“Me too,” she laughed. “How does a big-city cop end up in a town this size?”
“He follows a woman.”
“Oh, nice. What does she do?”
A slight lift of Brett’s shoulder was the only movement. “Last I heard she and her new husband had moved up north.”
“Ouch. Sorry.”
Another lift of the shoulder. “It happens.”
Sara came around and set Jayne’s wrapped sandwich on the table next to her water.
“Thanks,” Jayne said, then turned to Brett. “Gotta run into the ci
ty, but it was good to see you.”
He stood as she rose from her seat. “Jayne?”
“Hmm?”
“Would you like to go for a drink sometime?”
What? Did he just ask her out? Brett? Standing there in uniform with a small arsenal strapped to his hip? Her hesitation made him blink.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “Is that awkward? If there’s someone else … if you and Nick—”
“No,” she blurted out, then shook her head. “I mean, sure.”
“So a drink then?”
“Sure, o-okay.” What was she doing? A date with one of Nick’s friends? Was she crazy? Was Brett?
“Good.” Did the man ever smile? “How’s tomorrow night?”
“Um, yeah. Sure.”
“Chalker’s at six?”
“Yeah, sure, okay.” How many times had she said that in the last sixty seconds? Her fingers tightened around her water bottle until it crunched in. She needed to get out of there. “I’ll meet you there.”
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.
She walked out of the bakery, and instead of going to her car like she planned, she headed straight over to Ellie’s store and almost wrenched the door off its hinges. Ellie looked up from the shirt she was folding, took one look at Jayne, and shouted for her assistant.
“Angie!”
A short woman with a round face and crazy-wild blond hair stepped out of the back room.
“I’m going out for a bit. If I’m not back, can you lock up tonight? I’ll cash out later.” She grabbed her purse from under the counter, took Jayne by the arm, and marched her back to the bookstore. “Keys.”
Jayne started to hand them over, then shook her head. “No. I have to go into the city. There’s books. The guy said he’d only hold them until three.”
“Fine. I’m driving.” They got into the car and Ellie peeled out onto Logger’s Lane and down toward the highway. “Spill it.”
“I-I have a … date … tomorrow,” she finally said. “With Brett Hale.”
“The cop?” Ellie gaped, then immediately changed her tone to sound supportive, fake as it was. “Sorry, I mean that’s great.”
