“Well, that was a long time ago.” Jinx tried to make light of it.
“You obviously don’t drink coffee, but you had some with me at the hotel.”
Jinx enjoyed the play of E. J.’s caress. She rested her hands on E. J.’s hips. “I don’t drink it very often.” She refrained from adding that she didn’t do anything very often that was potentially addictive.
“And I’ve been in a bar with you twice, but haven’t seen you drink.” E. J. retraced her path down Jinx’s spine to her back pockets. “So, I assume you don’t.”
Their thighs touched.
Jinx shook her head.
“You’re a fabulous cook and know all the ways to touch a woman to drive her insane, but you never have anyone over.”
Jinx averted her gaze, embarrassed by the compliments and wary of the scrutiny.
E. J. slipped her fingers under the hem of Jinx’s T-shirt, beneath the waistband of her jeans, along the thick ridge of raised skin across the small of her back. “Can I ask you something?”
Jinx tensed. She didn’t want to explain the scars, neither of them. There was no reason to. E. J. was leaving. She’d never see her again. She didn’t have time this morning to tell the whole story—even if E. J. would listen—and she didn’t want to leave things on that note. E. J.’s eyes, though, her closeness, her touch, penetrated Jinx’s usually sound defenses, and she felt herself nod.
“Since you love dogs so much, why don’t you have one?”
Jinx flinched. Not the question she’d expected.
E. J.’s expression was serious.
Jinx almost would have preferred to talk about her scars. But no, she could talk about Rex. “I did,” she said. “For a while. But he died.”
E. J.’s features softened. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks, it’s all right. He was old, and he died quietly.” Jinx remembered the night she’d spent on the kitchen floor with Rex in her arms. “He knew he was loved in the end.”
“How long did you have him?”
“Not very. About six months.”
E. J. tilted her head, inviting the story.
“I found him. Someone dumped him on the side of the road outside the kennels.”
“The kennels?”
“Reggie and Sparkle’s place. Where I work,” Jinx said. “It’s a kennel, a grooming salon, and an obedience school all together.”
E. J. arched an eyebrow in obvious surprise. “Really?”
“It’s called Canine Complete.” Jinx swallowed, the memory raising old emotions. “I saw him one day when I was leaving work and tried to get him to come to me, but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t go to anyone. He just hung out there, right where he’d been left, for several days, like he was waiting for whoever left him to come back. But no one ever did.”
E. J. listened intently, her fingers maintaining their gentle caress of Jinx’s back.
It felt good to talk about Rex, like the release of a long-held breath. Reggie and Sparkle were always reluctant to bring up the subject in fear of upsetting Jinx, but this seemed to be what she needed. “Finally, after about a week, he got hungry enough to accept some food, and he was weak enough that I could grab him and keep hold of him to get him into my car. From that point on, he stayed right with me until the night he died. His name was Rex.”
E. J. cupped the back of Jinx’s head and coaxed her down to E. J.’s shoulder. She held her close.
Jinx tightened her arms around E. J.’s waist and buried her face in her neck. She inhaled the sweet scent of jasmine, the slightest hint of vanilla, and the salty smell of her own tears. No. Don’t. She tried to jerk away, but E. J. held her snugly.
“It’s okay,” E. J. whispered, her breath warm on Jinx’s ear. “I’ve got you.”
Jinx gave in. She squeezed her eyes shut and crushed E. J. to her. The tears flowed freely, but they weren’t for Rex—not really. Jinx knew Rex was safe, renewed, maybe even reincarnated as a brand new puppy or a little boy like in The Art of Racing in the Rain. These tears were for her, for how good it felt to be held in someone’s arms, someone who seemed to care about her for no apparent reason. These tears were for the fact that she couldn’t even remember the last time anyone had held her this way. Val had held her sometimes, but not like this, not so tenderly, so protectively. That wasn’t Val. Sure, Jinx had felt—she’d been—safe with Val, but, in an entirely different way. Val protected Jinx the way she’d needed at the time, protected her from being jumped in the yard, raped in the shower, shanked on the way to mess. And they’d shared more, but not like this.
As the intensity of her emotions ebbed, Jinx became aware of E. J.’s body pressed firmly against her own, E. J.’s thigh nestled between Jinx’s. She moved her mouth against E. J.’s neck and bit softly.
E. J. moaned and turned her head, giving Jinx better access. Her fingers tightened in Jinx’s hair.
Maybe she could be a little late for work. Reggie would understand. She’d nodded toward E. J. and given Jinx a thumbs-up while E. J. had been mopping up the floor with her at the pool table. Jinx had meant to ask E. J. where she’d learned to play, but—so many questions, so little point. Sparkle would give her hell, though, if she came in late. Sparkle had that redneck-mama thing going where Jinx was concerned, even though they were pretty much the same age, but Jinx didn’t mind. She knew it was Sparkle’s way of showing her love. Even so, she didn’t like making her mad. It was unpleasant. Besides, it’d been hard enough saying good-bye to E. J. the last time, and she knew it would be even more difficult after the previous night. If they ended up in bed again, especially after what’d just happened, the emotions that’d overtaken Jinx, she’d be a mess for God knew how long. No, this was it. It had to be. E. J. was leaving and, this time, not coming back.
Jinx lifted her head and loosened her hold. “I can’t be late for work. And if we…you know…” she said softly.
E. J. nodded.
Jinx thought of the cinnamon loaf she’d splurged on earlier in the week. “How about some French toast? With a little surprise,” she said in an attempt to lighten the mood.
E. J.’s eyes snapped open. “Surprise.” She blinked. “I can’t believe I forgot. I have a surprise for you.” She pulled away, grabbed her keys from her purse, and raced out the front door.
Stunned, Jinx stood motionless. What the heck?
E. J. was back in under a minute. She held something behind her back and gave Jinx a wide grin. She sidled toward her. “Take off your shirt.”
“What?” Jinx laughed. “Baby, really. I need to eat some breakfast and go to work.”
“No, it’s not that,” E. J. said, mischief flashing in her eyes. “I promise I won’t molest you…much. Trust me.”
Jinx eyed her, a little suspicious, but did as E. J. asked.
When Jinx stood in just her jeans and sports bra, E. J. whipped something from behind her back with a flourish and held it up for Jinx to see. “Ta-da.”
Jinx took in the light blue T-shirt, with the German shepherd on the front, the woman, the half-eaten package of steak. Excitement flooded her, and she felt her eyes go wide. She pointed. It was the shirt she’d told E. J. about, the one she’d wanted from the catalog years ago. “It’s…I can’t…How’d you…”
E. J. laughed. “Now who can’t finish a sentence?” She reached up and pulled the shirt over Jinx’s head. “Let’s see how it looks.”
Jinx pushed her arms into the sleeves and pulled it down over her torso. “I can’t believe this.” She smoothed her hands over the picture on the front.
With a huge smile, E. J. ran her gaze over Jinx’s chest, then up to her face. She stilled, and her expression changed. “It looks great on you.”
Jinx couldn’t stop grinning and rubbing her palms over her middle. “Where’d you get this?”
E. J. chuckled. “I work for Bad Dog,” she said. Her tone said, duh. “It’s a popular shirt, so it’s usually in stock in some of our stores. When I saw it yesterday, I had to get
it. I took it as a sign that I should follow my instincts and come try to find you.”
Jinx couldn’t stop feeling the fabric and staring down at the decal. “Thank you.” She wanted to say more, something that would convey what she was feeling. There was gratitude, but there was more than that, too. No one had ever done anything like this for her, at least not in a very long time. Her father would occasionally bring her a special gift from a business trip to an unusual place, and Andrea had given her a music box once that played “Teddy Bear Picnic”—Jinx’s favorite song at the time. They were ten. And Reggie and Sparkle had given her gifts, and she’d loved them and been thankful, but that made more sense. They were her best friends. They knew her and cared about her. E. J. was almost a stranger—though Jinx had to admit, she didn’t feel like one. “How did you know what size to get?” was all she could think of to say.
E. J. smirked. “I do have a little knowledge of your body.”
Jinx laughed and pulled her close. She held her and rubbed her cheek over E. J.’s hair. “Thank you.”
E. J. embraced Jinx, and they stood in each other’s arms for a long moment.
Jinx remembered their good-bye kiss at the door of E. J.’s hotel suite, and the ache of loneliness that’d chilled her. She felt it creeping close. She couldn’t do that again. She cleared her throat and eased E. J. away. “How about breakfast?” she said softly.
They ate and cleaned up, touching occasionally, but Jinx was careful to keep a thin barrier between them. If she didn’t, she’d likely make a fool of herself. She didn’t want to ruin what they’d shared. E. J. seemed a little distracted, probably eager to get on the road, to get to whatever waited for her at home.
They shared one last kiss, then E. J. pressed against her. “Echo Jenay,” she whispered.
Jinx willed herself quiet at the caress of E. J.’s breath across her ear. “What?”
“E. J. stands for Echo Jenay.” E. J. stepped back and smiled.
A beautiful name for a beautiful woman, was what Jinx wanted to say. “Much better than Earl Jarvis,” was what she said.
E. J. gave one last wave as she backed out of Jinx’s driveway and headed down the street.
As Jinx watched the Lexus turn the corner, she took a deep breath and shifted her thoughts to the day ahead. She had responsibilities. Dirty dogs need me.
She stepped into the business office of Canine Complete, where the employees signed in, to find Sparkle, rather than the actual secretary, at the desk.
“I expected you to be late this morning,” Sparkle said, scrolling through something on the computer screen.
Jinx checked the wall clock. Two minutes to spare. “Nope. Why would I be late?”
Sparkle narrowed her eyes. “Did your friend spend the night?”
Jinx shifted uncomfortably. Where was Reggie? She’d save her from this inquiry if she was here. Jinx knew, though, that Sparkle was only asking because she cared. “Yes. She did.”
“Ha!” Sparkle slapped the desk. “I knew it. Reggie said, Sweet Pea, Jinx is a grown woman and her private life is none of our business, but I knew it the second you walked into that bar. You were on her like a rat on a Cheeto. I knew you took her home with you.”
Jinx laughed. “Well, she would have had a hard time finding a room this weekend.”
“Uh-huh, I’m sure that’s the reason.” Sparkle clicked the mouse and the printer whirred into action. She leaned back in her chair. “What’s she like?”
What’s she like? Jinx let the question roll around in her mind. Sweet. Amazing. Beautiful. Classy. Sexy. Kind. Soft. E. J. was all those things. And gone. E. J. was gone, and the worst thing Jinx could do was to dwell on everything else E. J. was or how she made Jinx feel. “It doesn’t really matter,” she said. “We won’t be seeing each other again.”
“Why not? Isn’t she the mom of the guy who married your niece?”
“Yeah, but it’s not like I’ll run into her there.”
“Not with that bitch sister of yours,” Sparkle muttered. “But she’ll be back in town sometimes to visit them, won’t she?”
“Yes,” Jinx said, checking the clock again. She wanted to get to work. She wanted to be done talking about E. J. “But she’ll be visiting them.”
“Is that what she’s doing here this weekend?” Sparkle asked as though she already knew the answer. She always sounded that way. It was that mom thing she did. Jinx had heard her do it with her kids.
“No.”
“Why was she here?”
Jinx hesitated. Then in a rush, she said, “She came to see if I was okay after the blowup with Andrea.”
Sparkle arched an eyebrow. “That’s the only reason?”
Jinx nodded. “Seems so.” She hadn’t really wanted to have this conversation, but now that it was taking place, she was curious what Sparkle’s take on that would be. Jinx hadn’t been able to figure it out.
Sparkle gave her a measuring look. “Oh, Jinxie. If she hurts you, I’ll have to hunt her down and kick her ass.” She pulled the pages from the printer tray and handed them to Jinx.
Jinx felt that deep loneliness again, and this time it was on her before she could stop it. She had to get a grip and get E. J. out of her mind. The problem was, she didn’t want to.
“Whose ass are you kicking so early this morning?” Reggie asked as she came through the back door. She was a welcome interruption. Reggie’s presence always gave Jinx a sense of belonging.
Sparkle smiled sweetly. “That little—”
“No one,” Jinx said quickly. “We were just chatting.”
“Good, ’cause I don’t want to have to bail my wife out of jail.” Reggie grinned. “You have a nice night?” she asked, draping an arm over Jinx’s shoulders.
“I did. A very nice night.” Jinx’s cheeks heated.
“Good.” Reggie gave her a squeeze.
“And now I’m off to earn my keep.” Jinx held up the schedule Sparkle had given her and headed to the grooming salon.
By six o’clock, she was finishing up the Slater schnauzers, Punch and Judy, who would only agree to baths if they could take them together. Jinx indulged them and always ended up almost as wet as they did. She finished drying them and handed them off to the part-time groomer, who filled in on Saturdays. On the way home, she picked up a garden special pizza and a salad—her monthly treat—and was more than ready to settle in for the evening with a Netflix movie by the time she pulled into her driveway. As she climbed out of her car, she waved to Kenny, who was sitting on the steps of the empty house across the street. “Be right back,” she called.
On her way in, she picked up his dishes from the night before. She’d met Kenny shortly after she’d moved in and established some rapport with him over the course of a few months. She didn’t know much about him, but she did know he lived on the streets of the neighborhood, moving around throughout the days so as not to get run off. Jinx had started sharing her dinners with him one day when she’d found him collapsed alongside her driveway. He’d refused anything more. She liked cooking for him. It gave her a sense of connection, kind of like having a family to look out for.
She divided up the food and took his portion to him, then said good night.
He left happy, off to wherever he planned to sleep.
She knew the challenge of finding someplace new often enough so as not to draw attention, yet safe enough to know it was okay to close your eyes. She’d offered Kenny the bedroom she didn’t use, or even a spot on her back porch, with no strings attached, but he’d declined. She could empathize. It was hard to trust anyone when you lived on the streets.
With her own dinner, she settled on the bed and reached for the TV remote. E. J.’s scent drifted up from the bedding. Jinx inhaled, then lifted the pillow and buried her face in it, breathing in deeply. She was instantly aroused, and a sweet ache swelled in her chest.
No, she didn’t want to forget E. J. yet. She wanted to hold on to her just a little longer. She picked up th
e small CD player from the end table, pressed the buds into her ears, and punched the play button. Claude Debussy’s “Clair de lune” began, and she remembered kissing E. J. good-bye in the hotel. She lay back on the bed they’d shared and let herself remember more.
She’d start forgetting tomorrow.
CHAPTER SIX
E. J. sat at her desk and approved the drafts her administrative assistant placed in front of her. She had started out listening to each explanation Gwen gave—this is the authorization for the hiring of additional staff in Palo Alto, the request to HQ for the acquisition of the adjacent storefront in San Jose, the letter to Brian in Frisco about…Somewhere along the line, though, she had stopped, distracted as she had been for the past week and a half.
She had really believed seeing Jinx again and knowing she had recovered from the confrontation with Andrea would be all she needed to put the whole experience out of her mind—and it had put that out of her mind. She was no longer concerned about her. Now, however, in addition to the memories of that first night they had shared, she also kept reliving Jinx’s excruciating tenderness. It had threatened to break E. J. apart—both physically and emotionally—and then, later, the strength of her thrusts inside E. J., the care and nurturing with which she fed her those delicious berries, that look with which she had taken her in, and her vulnerability talking about Rex. E. J. had never felt anything like it. Days later, she still couldn’t let it go.
She shoved her fingers into her hair. What is it about that woman? What did she do to E. J. that made her break all her own rules, forget everything else? She never should have let Jinx stay the night in the hotel room. That had started everything. When she had awakened after their first round, she should have roused Jinx and politely told her it was time for her to leave, that E. J. needed to be up early in the morning. That always worked. Instead, she had eased on top of her and kissed her awake. Effective, but with an entirely different result.
Then, when she had gotten away, she had gone back. Something else she never did. There had been women she had seen more than once, but when she truly decided something was over, it was over. This time, not only had she returned, but she had been so tempted to stay, to wait for Jinx to get off work and spend another night with her—and she knew it wasn’t just for the sex. They’d had enough sex, enough bone-melting sex, throughout the night to last E. J. for weeks. The normal E. J. The sane E. J. No, it was the dinner Jinx had cooked for her, the easy way she made her laugh, the fact that she had gotten up in the morning and come back with coffee just for her, the look in her eyes—oh God, those eyes—when E. J. had given her the shirt. And that PB&J. What the hell had been in it? Jinx had said she had a secret ingredient, but that truly was the best PB&J ever made. She’d had the fleeting thought of turning around and going back after that. Thank God she had been almost home.
Embracing the Dawn Page 7
