All of Me

by Lori Wilde

  “Why should I care? You’re a grown woman. Date away.”

  “Fine. I will.”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “No, no.” God, what was she saying? She was practically begging him to ask her not to go out with Jefferson. “Why would I be mad?”

  “Great. Glad to hear it.”

  “Perfect, I’ll just go, then.”

  “Have a good time.”

  “You can bet I will.”

  “Watch out for the Viagra.”

  “What?”

  “Faux wood and all that.” Tuck winked.

  “You can be quite infuriating, you know that?”

  “Right back at you,” he said.

  Jillian snatched up her purse and marched for the back door. Something, she didn’t know what, told her to glance back over her shoulder.

  She caught him, his eyes off the magazine and totally focused on her. What knocked her off guard was the way he was looking at her—as if a house he’d invested months in designing and building had just gone on the market.

  TUCK COULDN’T BELIEVE JILLIAN was going out with Baines. If that’s the kind of artificial show-off she went for, no wonder she’d never been in love.

  “What do you care?” he growled under his breath as he pulled into the parking space at the Peabody Mansion. After he’d broken his ankle, he delayed the jobs that required going up on ladders. Sutter had told him to take his time getting back to repairing the old Victorian. His ankle wasn’t a hundred percent, but Doc Couts had taken the cast off the day before, and he was healing well enough to get back to work. Especially since Ridley had promised to drop by and help him when he finished an electrical job he had on the other side of town. He was ready for this.

  Or so he told himself. What he didn’t admit was that he couldn’t wait to be around Jillian again.

  He went inside.

  “Hey, Tuck, how’s the ankle?” Lexi greeted him from the doorway of her flooring store.

  “Much better, Lex, thanks.” He looked at her, and she smiled at him kindly. Too kindly.

  “I heard Jillian’s going out with Jefferson,” she said.

  Ah, that explained the look on her face. She was feeling sorry for him. “Yeah,” he said. “I heard the same thing.”

  “You’re not jealous?” Lexi asked.

  He shrugged. “Why would I be jealous?”

  “Aren’t you two sort of seeing each other?”

  “No.” He waved a hand. “Why? Did Jillian tell you that we were seeing each other?”

  Lexi shook her head. “I just sort of assumed it. Since you were living together—”

  “That’s strictly by necessity,” he rushed to interrupt her before she got any further. He didn’t want any rumors starting. “Until this property dispute is settled. We’re just roommates. It’s strictly platonic.”

  “Are you sure? Because the way she looks at you sometimes …”

  That pulled him up short. “Huh? How does Jillian look at me?”

  “Kind of wistful. And lusty. Like she wants to jump your bones but she’s afraid to get too close.”

  “Naw. You’ve misinterpreted the look. She’s not interested in me that way,” he insisted. “We’re just friends.”

  Friends, huh? More like adversaries who drive each other crazy with sexual chemistry.

  “Are you sure?” Lexi prodded.

  “Positive.”

  “So then you’re free tomorrow night?”

  That gave him pause. “Why, Lexi Kilgore, are you asking me out?”

  “Well, maybe, kind of. You see, I have this gift card to Thunder Mountain Lodge, and it expires tomorrow if I don’t use it, and there goes the fifty bucks for my last birthday from Gramma Louise. I really don’t want to go alone. I was going to ask Jillian, but now she’s going out with Jefferson.”

  “Is this a pity date?”

  “Hey, you’ll get a free meal.”

  Tuck looked at her. Lexi had always been nice to him. For three or four months after Aimee died, she had brought him casseroles once a week. She was a sweet woman with a bubbly personality, and if he hadn’t been so broken up over losing his wife, they might have already gone out. Why not accept her invitation? Jillian was going out with Jefferson; he could have a date too.

  “Lexi, I’d enjoy having dinner with you tomorrow night.”

  BY THE TIME Tuck got home from work, it was just after five o’clock. He and Ridley had spent the day replacing the Sheetrock in the ceiling of Sutter’s office, but to his surprise, Jillian had left the building right after they’d started work, and she hadn’t come back. So he was relieved to see her Sebring in the driveway when he arrived.

  He walked in the door and heard the shower running. The sound of it—and the image that popped into his head of Jillian standing naked under the running water—caused his heart to thump loudly in his ears. The cottage had only one bathroom. He’d been planning on adding a second, but now he was glad he hadn’t.

  Sauntering into the hallway, he stripped off his shirt and tossed it into the built-in hamper. Okay, so it was an obvious move, but he wanted her to get an eyeful of his bare chest when she came out of the bathroom.

  The water shut off.

  A couple minutes later—while Tuck stood around trying to act like he’d just taken his shirt off—the bathroom door opened. Jillian emerged in a white bathrobe with her hair twisted up in a blue towel. In her hands, she held a pair of red silk thong panties.

  She looked up, let out a little shriek, and fisted the panties in her hand. His groin tightened. “What the hell are you doing lurking in the hallway?”

  “Had a dirty job today. I need a shower.”

  “That gives you the right to skulk?”

  “It’s my house. I can skulk if I want to.”

  “That’s up for debate. It’s been five weeks and still no deed. It’s past time to get Blake’s will probated.”

  “I wasn’t skulking.” He noticed her gaze skipped over his bare chest.

  “Now you’re a liar as well as a skulker.” She seemed to just now remember she was holding the skimpy red panties. Quickly, she stuffed them in the pocket of her bathrobe.

  “You wearing those for Jefferson Baines?” God, why had he said that? Now she was going to think that he was jealous. Which he was, but he didn’t want her knowing it.

  “What if I am?”

  He stepped closer, blood racing, heart pounding so hard he was afraid she could hear it. He smelled the cucumbery scent of her shampoo. A droplet of water trailed down her neck. He watched it slide over her skin and disappear between her breasts. So far, he’d consciously avoided showering when she did. Usually, she showered in the mornings, and he took the evening. But tonight, she had a date, so she’d changed her routine. All to his advantage. She couldn’t fault him. She was the one who’d gone off their schedule.

  Jillian stood her ground. She wasn’t easily intimidated. Her eyes met his, and she watched him warily as he walked toward the door.

  And grazed her breast with his elbow.

  She sucked in her breath. “Hey!”

  “Sorry for the accidental boob graze.”

  “Accidental my ass—you did that on purpose.”

  “If you don’t like getting your boob grazed, maybe you shouldn’t stand in the hallway wearing nothing but a bathrobe.”

  “I don’t get it,” she said. “This morning you couldn’t seem to care less that I was going out with Jefferson.”

  “I don’t.” He took in the haughty slope of her shoulders. The regal way she held her head. How the hallway light reflected a soft glow off the creamy complexion of her skin. Damn, but she was beautiful and sexy as hell. He kept thinking about what she’d look like in that red thong and how he’d like to be the one to take her out of them.

  “Then why are you here? You know I’m getting ready for a date. Why not go to the Bluebird or the Rusty Nail until I’m out of the house?”

  “Because,” he said. “I h
ave a date as well.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jefferson told Jillian he’d made dinner reservations at Thunder Lodge on Thunder Mountain. It took almost an hour to drive the fifteen miles of winding mountain roads to the ski resort.

  On the drive in his late-model black Lexus, Jefferson tried to engage Jillian in idle chitchat, which she didn’t hear a word of because she kept thinking about Tuck and how he’d looked standing bare-chested in the hallway. It was the first time she’d seen him undressed since the morning she’d walked in and found him sleeping on the couch.

  There was no doubt about it—the man had world-class pecs and biceps. He could be a swimsuit model if he so desired. She licked her lips, remembering how he’d looked standing there with the shadow of the bathroom door falling over him, the play of light delineating the striation of his muscles.

  What in the hell had gotten into him? Was he jealous? She scarcely dared hope. Did he really have a date? Or had he made it all up?

  When she thought about Tuck out on a date, she felt jealous. The first time he dates since his wife’s death and it wasn’t with her. Why did she want it so badly to be her?

  “Do you like the music?” Jefferson asked.

  For the first time, Jillian realized Vivaldi was spilling one of his seasons out of the stereo system. Why did she have a sudden craving to hear the Lovin’ Spoonful sing “Do You Believe in Magic?”

  “Lexi told me you like classical,” Jefferson confessed. “She suggested Vivaldi.”

  “How kind of you to play it for me and to think to ask Lexi what kind of music I like.” She smiled. “That’s very considerate.”

  “I do my research when I take a lady out.”

  God, he sounded so cheesy. What was taking them so damned long to get to Thunder Mountain? “Uh-huh.”

  “See that house up there?” Jefferson pointed to a sprawling split-level log cabin hidden in the mountains.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “I sold it as a summer place to Wolfgang Puck’s nephew,” he said proudly.

  “That must have been interesting.”

  “He gave me a gift certificate to Wolfgang’s restaurant for the next time I’m in Vegas. Would you like to go to Vegas with me sometime? You know, what happens in Vegas …”

  “Stays in Vegas,” she finished for him. “Yes, I’ve heard the slogan.”

  Jefferson swiveled his head and winked at her. “So, what do you say about a trip to Sin City? We could stay at the MGM Grand. Catch Blue Man Group onstage?”

  “Let’s see how one date goes.”

  “Gotcha.”

  It was all Jillian could do to keep from rolling her eyes. She shifted in the seat, angling her body away from his, and stared out the window to while away the time while Jefferson gave her a running commentary on who owned the houses they passed, how much the houses were worth, and who was likely or unlikely to have property on the market soon. The guy knew his business. She had to give him brownie points for that.

  They rounded a curve, and in the rearview mirror, Jillian caught a glimpse of a pickup behind them that looked exactly like Tuck’s. Her pulse accelerated. Was he following them?

  But that was stupid. Tuck drove the number-one selling pickup truck in America. In silver, the most common color for vehicles. The chances of Tuck being behind them were very slim. So why did she feel a sudden burst of excitement?

  Because you’re starting to get hung up on the guy.

  She wasn’t. Was she?

  She waited for the next curve to even out to see if she could catch another glimpse behind them, but the road just kept spiraling upward.

  Be real. Why would Tuck be behind you?

  Well, there was only one road up the mountain, and he’d said he had a date. It wasn’t as if Salvation was flush with great first-date places. Most likely, anyone headed out for a date would go to either Boulder or up to Thunder Mountain, and the mountain had the better view.

  “Almost there,” Jefferson said, and reached across the car to touch her arm.

  She drew back.

  “Sorry,” he apologized. “Did I overstep my boundaries?”

  Jillian forced a smile. Honestly, he wasn’t a bad guy, just overeager and not at all her type. “I’ve just been a little tense lately.”

  “Well, tonight is your night to relax. Thunder Lodge is known for their excellent wine list and romantic ambiance.”

  “Good to know.” The thought of getting snockered was appealing, but the last thing she wanted was to lose her edge around Jefferson. He hadn’t tried anything funny yet, but he had said that stupid crap about Vegas.

  “Lily Massey and Bill Chambers are getting married up here.”

  “So I’ve heard. I’ve been invited.”

  “Really? You wanna go together?”

  “One date at a time, Jefferson.”

  “Gotcha.”

  They arrived at the restaurant at last. Jefferson tossed his keys to the valet and offered her his arm, trying his best to be a good date. But Jillian just wasn’t in the mood to appreciate his efforts. As he escorted her into the building, she couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder to see if Tuck’s pickup had arrived.

  “This way,” Jefferson said, and ushered her inside before she had time to see who was coming up the mountain.

  The restaurant was quite elegant. White linen tablecloths. The waitstaff attired in traditional black uniforms with white aprons. A maître d’ who seated them right away at a spectacular table by the window overlooking the ski run. An impressive wine list just as Jefferson had promised.

  There was night skiing at the resort, and from where they were seated, they could watch skiers sluice down the mountain. Fun classic rock from the fifties and sixties was being played on the slopes, and they could hear it inside the restaurant. It was a great place with the proper romantic atmosphere. The only trouble was, Jillian kept wishing she was there with someone else.

  Tuck.

  Just as the waiter arrived to take their drink orders, Jillian looked up from her menu to see Tuck and Lexi walk in. Her stomach lurched.

  In his suit and tie, Tuck stole her breath away, and she had to admit Lexi looked quite lovely in a lavender skirt and blouse set. A waiter steered them toward the opposite side of the room, but Lexi headed their way. Tuck looked surprised and followed her over.

  “Hello,” Lexi greeted, sauntering up to their table. “Imagine running into you guys here.”

  Tuck clamped a hand on Jefferson’s shoulder. “How you doing, buddy?”

  “Tuck,” Jefferson said. “I didn’t know you and Lexi were dating.”

  Lexi beamed. “It’s the first time we’ve gone out.”

  “Hey, why don’t we all eat together?” Tuck suggested.

  Jillian rummaged in her mind for an excuse why they should not share a table, but Lexi clapped her hands in that endearing way of hers and said, “Oh yes, that would be so fun.”

  Tuck was already pulling out Lexi’s chair for her. Jillian shot him a withering glance. He grinned at her. She glared.

  The waiter hovered.

  “Instead of two glasses of cabernet,” Jefferson instructed, “go ahead and bring us a bottle.” Then he turned to Tuck. “This is our first date as well.”

  “Really?” Tuck popped open his linen napkin and spread it across his lap, all the while keeping his eyes trained on Jillian.

  Lexi leaned over and whispered behind her palm to Jillian, “This is so much fun. Me being out with Tuck, you with Jefferson.”

  The excitement in her new friend’s voice made Jillian glower at Tuck. What was he pulling? “Don’t expect too much,” Jillian whispered back, desperate to protect Lexi. “This is his first date since Aimee.”

  “Don’t worry,” Lexi whispered. “I know what I’m doing.”

  Jealousy, sharp and unexpected, sliced into her. From the ski slopes came the sound of “Do You Believe in Magic?”

  “Hey,” Tuck said. “They’re playing our song.�
�

  Jillian stared at him. “Our song?”

  “Your song?” Lexi raised an eyebrow.

  “You have a song?” Jefferson asked.

  “Yeah.” Tuck held Jillian’s gaze. “It was playing on the radio when we had our first fight. Remember?”

  Oh, she remembered, all right. “That doesn’t make it our song.”

  “It makes me think of our first fight. Doesn’t that qualify as our song?”

  “You can only have a song if you’re a couple,” Jillian said. “We’re not a couple.”

  Several long minutes passed. Then the waiter returned with wine and took their food orders. Tuck and Jillian ordered filet mignon cooked medium. Jefferson and Lexi ordered the pheasant.

  Jillian was sitting directly across from Tuck, and in spite of herself, she couldn’t help noticing how sexy he looked freshly shaven and smelling of manly cologne. Jefferson’s cologne had a floral undercurrent, but Tuck’s was woodsy, earthy. She’d never seen him dressed in anything but flannel and jeans except for on the cover of Architectural Digest.

  His eyes met hers across the table as if he could read her mind. He gave her a short, sly smile, and she felt as if she’d been lit on fire. White-hot embers of desire that had been burning inside her from the moment they had met sparked, flared.

  When the bread basket came, Tuck and Jillian reached for it at the same time, and their hands touched. The heat of his hand short-circuited her hormones and she burned.

  Yes. Burned.

  For Tuck.

  Blindly, she left the roll in the basket, drew her hand back, and reached for her wineglass instead. She took a big gulp, trying senselessly to put out the brushfire rolling through her.

  “So tell us, Jefferson, what big real estate deals are you working on?” Tuck asked, smoothly buttering his bread, but the whole time he was talking and buttering, his gaze was on her. His whiskey-colored eyes were luminous, the pupils dilated in the candlelight. He parted his lush lips and very sensuously took a bite of bread.

  “Well, Tuck …” Jefferson launched off on his latest project while Lexi asked eager questions.

  But Jillian wasn’t listening to Jefferson babble. All she could do was look at Tuck and think, I want this man.