“That’s the thing. I do love him. Very much. But not the way I should. He deserves to have a wife who is crazy about him, can’t stand to be apart from him for even a minute. Who dreams about him at night. Who can’t stop thinking about him throughout the day...” she mumbled, her voice getting lower and lower. “I do love him. I just can’t...love...him...enough...” A soft snore buzzed from her throat.
Careful to be quiet so she wouldn’t wake Monica, and lost in her thoughts, Jane tiptoed from Monica’s room and returned to the guest bed. Her thoughts, about Monica and Jason, about Monica’s grandmother, and about wishes and stars, kept her company as she watched night turn to dawn.
Chapter Sixteen
The next morning, Jane woke up with a start. Either someone had pulled another switcheroo on her again or she was sleeping in the Arctic.
She opened her eyes.
Neither seemed to be the case. There were no icebergs in sight and she recognized her clothes and the room in which she’d dozed off a short time ago. But in that time, it appeared, Monica’s furnace had gone kaput. Either that, or she hadn’t paid her gas bill.
She knew she had a couple of options. She could go home and let Monica figure it out...but that one wasn’t very nice. Or she could bundle up and do some investigating. It was a chilly alternative, but the better of the two. Already feeling the effects of the cold on her nose and fingers, she wrapped the comforter around her and walked to Monica’s bedroom. After knocking and receiving no response, she opened the door and poked her head into the dark room. The shades were drawn. The room was deathly quiet.
“Monica?” she said in a hushed voice. “Are you okay?”
She got a groan for a reply.
Deciding it was better to wake up a hungover Monica than to leave said hungover Monica in a house with no heat, she walked to the bed and tapped Monica’s shoulder. “Monica, either your furnace died last night or you owe somebody some money.”
Monica groaned again and slowly lifted a hair-tousled head. “What time is it?” she grumbled, turning her head toward the nightstand.
“I don’t know.” Jane noticed the clock’s red numbers weren’t lit. “The clock isn’t working.” She went to test the light switch on the wall. The overhead didn’t turn on. “Did you pay your electric bill?”
“Yes. Two weeks ago.”
She kept flipping the switch, knowing it probably wouldn’t all of a sudden work but willing to keep trying anyway. “Are you positive?”
“Yes. It’s winter. I’m not that stupid. I can’t live without lights and heat.” She sat up and dropped her head into her hands. “Ohhh...my head is killing me. That Long Island stuff is trouble.”
“I warned you.” Jane lifted the blind and glanced outside. From her vantage, she could see the corner of the neighbor’s garage. The motion detector-activated light was on. “Your neighbor didn’t lose power.”
“I paid the bill. I can show you the check stub to prove it.”
“Maybe you mailed it too late?”
“It cleared the bank.”
“Well shoot! I don’t know what’s wrong then.”
“I know what to do.” Moving slow, like a zombie rising from the dead, Monica sat up then stood. Her head hung low as she shuffled across the room and opened the top drawer of her dresser. She held out a business card. “Call this man.” When Jane took the card, Monica dragged her miserable frame back to her bed and laid down. “Let me know when he’s coming. Please? Thanks.”
“Okay. But do you have a cell phone? I don’t think your cordless is going to work.”
“My purse.” She pointed at the chaise in the corner.
Jane rummaged through the contents of Monica’s purse until she located the phone then left the room to make the call to Bill the electrician.
Recognizing the name, Jane introduced herself as the woman he’d met at the club a month or so ago, gave him Monica’s address and explained their dire circumstances. He said he would be over within the hour. She reported her success to Monica, who suddenly seemed to have made a remarkable recovery. She bounded out of bed and ran to the shower, ignoring Jane’s suggestion she wait. As expected, she returned from the bathroom a little while later with dripping wet hair and a scowl. “I can’t dry my hair. He can’t see me like this.”
Jane chuckled. “I tried to warn you. Just let it dry naturally.”
“I’ll have icicle dreadlocks.”
Jane shrugged. “Maybe that’ll turn him on. You said he thought you were too high-maintenance. This oughta prove you’re not.” She tugged on a soggy lock of hair.
“Hardly. It’ll just make me look scary.”
“You couldn’t look scary if you tried.” Jane nudged Monica’s shoulder then walked to the door. “Better hurry. According to the clock on your cell phone, he could be here in as little as ten minutes, maybe sooner.”
“Okay, okay!” Monica ran to the dresser as Jane left the room and closed the door.
Hungry, she headed for the kitchen, hoping to find something edible. It had been a long time since the switch back, so all the goodies Jane had bought would be long gone. She could only hope she’d find something that would fill her stomach without making her ill.
The refrigerator was empty.
The cupboards were empty.
The freezer was empty.
Drats! She put on her coat and collected her purse and keys. “Monica, I’m headed up the road for donuts,” she shouted up the stairs. “Want anything?”
“No, I’m fine. Thanks anyway.”
“Suit yourself!” She hurried out into the cold, surprised to find almost a half-foot of snow on the ground and more falling. Unlike last night’s snow, these were the big, soggy flakes that accumulated by the inch. The road was covered, with little more than two dirty ruts wandering through the quiet neighborhood. The air was still. It was eerie.
She got in her car and white-knuckled it to the donut shop where she picked up a dozen donuts and a dozen bagels, just in case she was forced to stick around Monica’s for a while. At least she wouldn’t go hungry. Then she headed back.
A big white van was parked in Monica’s driveway. She parked her car next to it and went inside.
It was still freezing inside, and dark. Her arms full of paper bags with donuts and bagels, she walked to the kitchen, shouting, “Monica?”
“We’re down here,” Monica answered from the basement.
Jane took a bite of a custard-filled donut before venturing down the stairs at the rear of the kitchen. She followed the moving beam from a flashlight either Monica or the electrician was holding in the rear of the basement. It was dark down there, but not pitch-black, thanks to several long but narrow rows of glass blocks letting in faint daylight. “How bad is it?” she asked as she approached them.
The electrician’s back was turned toward her, and his flashlight was directed at the circuit breaker box on the wall. “Looks like the main breaker tripped off.”
“Why would that happen?” Jane asked.
“Hard to say.”
She heard a click then the lights in the basement turned on.
Monica grinned. “Yay! That’s all it was?”
“Sure looks that way.” Bill the electrician shut the panel door and turned around to face the ladies.
Jane smiled. “Thanks a lot for coming on such short notice.”
“What about the furnace?” Monica asked. “You wouldn’t leave two helpless women here during the middle of a snowstorm to freeze to death, would you?”
Jane couldn’t miss the twinkle she saw in Monica’s eyes as she smiled at the hulking electrician.
“Helpless? Hardly.” He chuckled and returned Monica’s smile. Then he grinned and winked at Jane too. Jane couldn’t miss the fact that there was more than one kind of electricity happening in that basement. The air around her was charged with nervous energy, fed by the looks Monica was giving Bill and he was giving Jane. “The furnace should come on in a minute. The blow
er can’t operate without electricity.”
Monica giggled and twirled a soggy lock of hair around her finger. “Oh, how silly. I knew that, of course.” She stepped closer, her wide eyes fixed on his face. “Thanks so much for coming out here so quick. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”
“Not a problem. Give me some time and I’ll think of something. Two beautiful women...I’m sure there are one or two possibilities.” He smiled at Jane, and growing more uncomfortable by the second, Jane failed to respond.
Was he suggesting...a ménage?
Bill was one handsome devil of a man, no doubt about it. Tall and solid, he was built like Atlas, his arms thick and muscular, his shoulders broad, his chest wide, his waist narrow. And his face was ruggedly handsome with deep brown eyes and sexy dark stubble over his chin and jaw. There was a naughty spark in those eyes. That man was trouble with a capital T, perfect for Monica. Not perfect for Jane.
“How about a donut?” suggested Jane, knowing that was a far cry from what he was looking for.
“That’s a good start but I was thinking more along the lines...” He stepped closer and Jane found herself back-stepping away. “...of a home cooked vegetarian dinner.” His chest inches from Jane’s chin, he tipped his head and whispered, “What do you say?”
Monica stepped in, catching Bill’s arm as he lifted it, no doubt intercepting his touch to Jane’s face. “Jane there’s had a change of heart and has gone all Atkins on me. The good news is she gave me all her old cookbooks, and with power, I can get my way around a kitchen with the best of them.”
His attention diverted, he backed away from Jane enough to allow her to breathe again. “Can you make a decent Reuben?”
“The best!” Monica said exuberantly. She took him by the hand and led him upstairs. “I’m on a first name basis with the delivery boy for Mike’s Market down the street. I can get the ingredients here in two snaps.” She illustrated with a couple of saucy finger snaps.
Several steps behind them, Jane pondered her getaway, choosing the moment Monica dialed the market to gather her donuts and bagels and break the news that she was leaving. Monica mouthed, “Thank you.” And waved. She didn’t look the least bit put out.
But Bill did.
Certain he wouldn’t be sorry for long, Jane made an excuse about a dog she didn’t really own needing to be let out, and made good her escape. Just before she headed out the door, Bill cornered her and whispered, “I’ll call you.” A little bit guilty for using him the way she had, but not interested in feeding his interest, she simply smiled and said, “Enjoy your meal with Monica. She’s nothing like you’d expect when you first meet her.”
His knowing nod suggested he understood exactly what she was implying.
Satisfied she’d set him straight, Jane trudged into the snowstorm, started her car, and swept off the inch or so that had accumulated on the windshield in the short time since she’d returned from the donut place.
Top speed as she drove home was about ten miles per hour. A self-proclaimed snow wimp, she fought to keep her zippy new car on the road as all-wheel-drive trucks barreled past her, blinding her with the mud-tinged slush they threw off their wheels. Thanks to a fear of freeway driving during snowstorms, her trip home was long and exhausting, and thanks to getting very little sleep the night before, she was ready for bed the moment she pulled into her parking space.
Safe, warm, and prepared to hunker down and ride out the storm, she carried her goodies into the kitchen, took the most direct route to her bed she could find and, after changing into her favorite sweats, climbed into bed and buried herself in the blankets. It took her no time to fall asleep.
As she drifted off, she heard Jason’s voice. He was calling her name. No, he was doing more than that.
Unclothed from the waist up, he was bent over her, whispering, “Jane, let me show you how beautiful I think you are.”
Instantly tingly and breathless, eager to feel his weight pressing upon her but equally guilty and confused, she asked, “But what about Monica?”
“You know as well as I do that we’re through. We have been for a long time. Neither of us wanted to admit it, even after we broke up.” He sat back and gathered her hands in his. His grip was warm, firm, his expression sober. “It took something extreme for us to sever the last bonds.”
“But I’m her friend.” She wiggled her fingers in his hands, not really wanting to pull them free but knowing she should. “Even if you’ve broken up, I don’t date my friends’ ex-boyfriends. It’s just not right.”
“But I love you. And so does Monica. She wants us both to be happy.” He kissed each fingertip then released her hands. He bent lower and kissed her, his tongue teasing the corners of her mouth before plunging inside. She heard her breathing quicken, felt the rush of warmth wash up her chest and over her face. A slight but steady throb began between her legs as his hands plunged under her shirt and found her breasts. He pinched her nipples between his thumb and forefingers and she moaned. He nibbled on her neck and she squirmed with pleasure. He pressed a knee between hers, and she rocked her hips back and forth, rubbing away the ache of need growing by the second.
“Oh God,” she moaned, surprised by the swiftness of her reaction to his touch. She couldn’t stand waiting any longer. She wanted him. All of him. “Please make love to me.”
He pulled off her sweatpants and knelt before her, a hand on each knee. He gently pressed, urging them apart. Just before he lowered his head for his first taste, he whispered, “I think you’re the most beautiful, intelligent, perfect woman on earth.”
“Now I know I’m dreaming,” Jane said aloud, waking herself. Blinking and horny from her dream, she looked at the window on the opposite side of the wall. “Perfect? Me? What a joke. What am I thinking?” Recognizing it was dark, and curious to see how long she’d been sleeping, she turned to look at the clock. Eight o’clock. In the evening, she assumed. She found the remote on her nightstand and turned on the TV, not surprised to see weather updates on all the local channels.
Today’s storm had dumped over a foot of snow in most parts of the city and more was expected. Several thousand people were without power.
She wondered how Monica was doing.
More than that, she wondered what Jason was doing.
*
Jason watched the white van, marked Bill’s Electric, pull out of Monica’s driveway as he turned the corner of her street. Was Monica having electrical problems? Why hadn’t she called him like she usually did?
Out of habit, he eyed the guy driving the van as their vehicles passed. In passing, the guy looked young. He had a smart-assed grin on his face, which made Jason feel uneasy. Had he taken advantage of Monica somehow? Anxious to find out, he pulled into her driveway then shut off the car and took long steps through the deep snow to her front porch. Vowing to clear the front walk and the empty half of the driveway after he made sure she was okay, he rang the doorbell.
She answered the door in her bathrobe. Her hair was a tangled mass of waves, dry but tousled like she’d just gotten out of bed. Her expression quickly changed from glee to surprise. “Oh my gosh! Jason.”
He didn’t miss how her gaze hopped from his face to over his shoulder and he turned and looked back to see if someone or something was behind him. “Hi, Monica. Were you expecting someone else?”
“No...I...uh...the electrician just left. I didn’t have power this morning. Jane called him for me.”
“Jane? Is she still here?” he asked, still standing on the porch because Monica hadn’t invited him in yet. He glanced at his watch. It was almost seven.
“No. Why? Are you looking for her? She left a...while ago.” Monica lifted a hand and started chewing on a manicured nail. That was a telltale sign that something was wrong.
“What’s going on here?”
“Nothing.” She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin.
“Then why haven’t you invited me in?”
; “Oh!” She pushed open the storm door and stepped aside. “Sorry. I’m just a little slow today. Hangover. You remember last night.”
“Yeah. I came to check on you.” He walked into the living room and feeling like he might find someone there, looked to the left and right. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” The room was empty but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Monica was hiding something.
“That’s very sweet. I’m fine. As you can see.” She tightened the belt on her robe.
“Actually, I can’t.”
Her eyes got huge.
“But I’ll take your word for it,” he added. “So, you say you didn’t have power this morning? What was wrong?” He walked through the living room toward the kitchen.
“Um...something about the main breaker being tripped,” Monica answered, following him.
“That’s all?”
“Yep. Only took the electrician a minute to switch it back on, thank God. It was frigid in here with no heat. He said a surge might have triggered it. He checked everything else and said it looked fine.”
“And that took...what? Ten hours? He must have been very thorough.”
“Yes...he sure was,” she said tensely.
As Jason neared the kitchen, the scents of toasted bread and pickles filled his nostrils. “And you cooked while you were waiting? You never cook for yourself.”
Something was fishy here, and it wasn’t in the fry pan.
“I was hungry?” she suggested with a shrug.
He noted the set of two plates, two glasses and two forks in the sink. Turning, she followed his gaze. “I...had seconds.”
“Corned beef? What are you not telling me, Monica?”
She sighed and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. “I’m eating red meat these days?”
He answered her quip with a scowl.
“Okay.” She sighed. “We need to talk.”
“Let me guess. You slept with the electrician?” he said, summing up his suspicions. He was shocked by how little those words hurt as he spoke them.
Tangled: A New Adult Romance Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle of Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Royalty) Page 72
