“Jeff doesn’t like it when anyone gets hurt.” He pulled out into the light early morning traffic on Main Street. “He’s been that way since . . . well, as far back as I can remember.”
“I must admit I thought he was a real smartas— aleck,” she corrected herself, “when we first met. You know, big ego, all muscles and good looks with nothing inside to balance out all that hubris. But now that I’ve gotten to know him, I’ve changed my opinion.” She put her hand on Frank’s arm. “You’ve raised a fine son, Frank.”
He chuckled. “I can’t take much credit for it. His mom had much more influence on him than I did. As a matter of fact we had a pretty rocky relationship until that episode with Rusty when he was a freshman in high school.”
“Oh?” Episode? Tell me more.
“My wife, Catherine, she was the artist in the family. She did illustrations for children’s books.”
Zoe nodded, not wanting to interrupt his story with even a comment.
“Yeah, well, Jeff stuck to her like glue growing up. I couldn’t even get him to throw a baseball or a football around in the backyard. All he wanted to do was draw or use that Play-Doh Catherine bought him to make flowers and birds and sh—uh, uh, stuff.” He shot Zoe a sideways glance, but she just smiled, so he continued.
“Anyways, I got pretty disgusted with him. He was a skinny kid, all elbows and kneecaps. And . . . well . . . pretty. There was no other word for it. Until he was about seven, strangers thought he was a girl. I tried to get Catherine to cut his hair short but she loved those damn curls.” He shook his head.
Zoe understood Jeff’s mom’s desire to keep his hair longer. It was still one of his most attractive assets.
“I added two and two and came up with . . . five.” He shook his head again. “I was a real idiot. Thought he was, you know, gay. By the time Jeff was in his teens I was annoyed that he was too chicken-shit to come out and admit it.” He heaved a sigh. “Parents aren’t always the smart ones, Zoe, and I, well, I was barking up the wrong tree. In the whole wrong forest, actually. Right up until the ‘Rusty incident.’”
Zoe could hear the quotes. “What happened?”
“Jeff was downtown buying some supplies he needed for art class. Rusty was in the store too, but they didn’t really know each other then. Anyway, Rusty left first and when Jeff went outside, Rusty was getting harassed by a bunch of jocks from the football team. They’d dumped the kid’s paints and inks on the sidewalk and were giving him a hard time, so Jeff went over and told them to get lost. Then he tried to help Rusty salvage what they could of the ruined paints and stuff.”
Zoe nodded. “Sounds like Jeff. Did he run them off?”
“Oh no. There were five of them. They beat the crap out of Rusty and Jeff. He came home with a shiner and some nasty bruises on his ribs from getting kicked around.”
“Oh no. Those bullies should have been taught a lesson.” Zoe scowled, indignant for the incident that occurred over fifteen years ago.
Frank sighed. “Yeah, that’s what his mother thought too. I tried to tell her to leave it alone, but she wouldn’t. She took Jeff up to school and met with the principal.”
“And did he do something to those boys?”
“Oh yeah. He brought them in, gave them a lecture and told them if he heard of any more episodes like that, he’d have them suspended.”
Zoe nodded emphatically. “Good. Although I would have wanted to get in a few licks myself. But at least that kept other kids from getting harassed.”
Frank made a face. “Not exactly how it worked out.”
“Why? What did they do?”
“In less than twenty-four hours, every kid in the school thought Rusty and Jeff were a ‘couple’. They were either shunned or ridiculed for the rest of the school year.”
“Oh no. Those poor boys.”
“Yeah. But the good thing about it? Jeff and I had a turning point in our relationship. He and Rusty became good friends. The kid was gay as a maypole and told me on more than one occasion how sad he was that Jeff was straight. I felt like an ass for thinking he was gay all those years. It’s no wonder our relationship is still kind of shaky. Anyway, that summer I got Jeff a job on one of my construction sites. Let me tell you, nothing puts on muscle like hauling around cinder blocks and shingles for three months. In the evenings he took a martial arts class.” Frank chuckled. “I thought he was going to eat us out of house and home. I wish I could have been inside the school the first day of his sophomore year. He’d shot up three inches and put on almost thirty pounds. I betcha there were some slack-jawed kids in those hallways.”
Zoe grinned right along with him. “I bet there were. You and Catherine can be proud of him, Frank. He’s a hard worker and I can tell he has a lot of talent from the drawings he did when he designed the gallery and my apartment.”
“I’m sure Catherine keeps an eye on him from up there.” Frank pointed heavenward. “She passed away the summer he graduated from high school.”
“Oh, Frank, I’m so sorry. You both must miss her terribly.”
“Yeah, we all do. She was one of a kind.”
“All?”
“Yeah, uh, me, Jeff, and, uh, all her friends. She was very active in our community.” He shifted in his seat. They had arrived in the outskirts of Cambridge. “So, where is this antiques store?”
“Two blocks up and make a right at the light. It’s on the left hand side of the street about halfway up the next block.”
As he made the turn, Frank looked over at her. “Um, listen, Jeff will be mad if he finds out I told you that story . . .”
“No problem. I won’t say a word.” She squeezed his arm. “It can be our little secret.”
“Jeff, we’re back,” Zoe called up the stairs.
“Hang on, I’ll be right down.”
She set the bucket of chicken they had picked up for lunch on the desk and stashed her purse in the drawer. “As soon as we eat, I’m going over to change into work clothes and come back.”
She turned to watch him come down the stairs, admiring the broad shoulders that stretched his T-shirt taut and outlined his pecs and flat belly. Tousled hair, full lips, and those sky-blue eyes . . . It wasn’t the smell of fried chicken making her mouth water. She tried to picture him as a teenager, gangly and awkward, without the muscles and maturity that made his face so arresting. It was hard to imagine the feminine traits that had caused Frank so much worry. From her point of view he was all delicious male.
“Hello, sweet cheeks.” He gave her a quick kiss while Frank’s back was turned. “Any trouble picking up your cabinets?”
“Nope. It was a tight squeeze but we managed to get both pieces in the van. Come look and tell me what you think.”
Out at the curb, Jeff ran his hand over the carved oak that held the glass sides in place. “Nice. These are works of art in their own right. They’re going to add a lot of class to your gallery, Zoe.”
Zoe grinned with pleasure. “I thought you’d like them. They are old, but they’re well-preserved. Be careful unloading them. We’ll keep them back in the office until the gallery is finished. I’ll get our lunch unpacked while you two bring these inside.”
After lunch, Frank packed up his gear and got ready to leave for Baltimore. Zoe walked him out and gave him a kiss on the cheek before he climbed inside. “It was wonderful to meet you, Frank. Thank you so much for all the work you did with Jeff. Please come back and see us again when the gallery opens.”
“I’ll do that, Zoe. You take care of yourself. I don’t want to hear about any more accidents.”
“I’ll be good. I promised Jeff to obey all safety regulations from now on. Drive safe.”
Back inside, she wasn’t sure what to expect from Jeff. Things had changed so much in the past twenty-four hours. She c
ould hear him moving around upstairs and went up to see the progress he’d made while she and Frank were gone.
He was on his cell phone, so Zoe ducked behind some boxes and eavesdropped shamelessly.
“Hey gorgeous, it’s your favorite carpenter.” (Pause)
“I’m good. You? (pause)
“Nah, I can’t tonight, sorry.” (pause)
“Maybe. I can’t promise anything.” (pause)
“Listen, Christy, I need to put a to-go order in for—” (pause)
“No. I don’t have time to stay for lunch today.” Sigh. “I can’t help that, babe, I’ve got work to do. Just get my usual order ready and I’ll swing by and pick it up, okay?” (pause)
“Thanks. Catch you later then. Bye.”
He stuffed his phone in his pocket. Shook his head. Another sigh.
Zoe tiptoed back to the stairwell, then made sure her footsteps could be heard coming down the hall.
“Hey, Jeff, are you busy?”
“Nope. I’m just napping up here. What do you need?”
I need the truth from you, Lothario. Why do you need a lunch order if we’ve already eaten? And why do you sound so chummy with ‘Christy’?
He’d gone back to grouting the tile he’d set last night.
“Your dad is on his way back to Baltimore. I told him to come see us again when the gallery opens. I want him to see the finished product. He’s a nice guy, Jeff. I see a lot of him in you.”
Jeff snorted. “Not all that much, except for teaching me all this.” His gesture encompassed the whole space. He shot her a suspicious glance. “Why? What did he tell you about me?”
“Not a lot, really. He mentioned that you two didn’t have the best relationship when you were a kid.”
“Yeah, that’s certainly true.”
“But he seems to think that’s all behind you both and that things are good between you now.”
Jeff didn’t reply. He just kept working the grout into the joints in the tile. Finally he said, “I’m not sure I should let you do anything at all today with that bum thumb.”
Nice change of subject, she thought. She looked around then went back to her bedroom and checked out the bathroom. “Looks like all the place needs is a coat of paint. I can do that without doing any more damage to my thumb.”
She came back around the corner. “It’ll be easier to paint now before you put the trim up. I won’t have to be so careful.”
Jeff sat back on his heels. “If you’re sure it won’t be too painful . . .”
“I’ll be fine. Really. “I’m going to go change clothes. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”
“Okay. Hurry back.”
Jeff delivered his final comment with a look that sent warmth spiraling through her and woke up all her erogenous zones. What would happen when she came back? It would be hard to keep her mind on her painting, that’s for sure. Especially since she’d given him permission to kiss her whenever he wanted.
As she cut across the town square, she heard the unmistakable sound of Jeff’s bike. The streets around the square were empty. Perhaps it was someone else’s motorcycle she’d heard. Zoe almost detoured to Ed’s diner to catch him there, but felt like she’d be spying.
After all, it’s not like we have a relationship. A few kisses did not make him my boyfriend. A few kisses just made me . . . easy.
Chapter 10
Jeff dropped the keys to her new apartment into her hand. It was finished. He had borrowed Mr. Pennypacker’s old pickup truck and together he and Zoe had driven to D.C. and cleaned out the storage unit she’d rented. Zoe was grateful for one less bill to deal with every month.
Now that her bedroom furniture was arranged to her liking, a feat that had required Jeff to shift things around several times, Zoe loved the way it had turned out. Thanks to Jeff’s design talents and carpentry skills her new home was light-filled yet warm and cozy. A sofa from Ikea and tan linen Roman shades on the tall windows were all the new things her budget would allow. The rest came from her old apartment. The sense of ownership flooded her with a kind of joy she’d never known. This was no rental, this building and everything in it belonged to her. She wished her mother could be here to see her dream beginning to come true.
Jeff came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. “Happy, sweet cheeks?”
She leaned against him and sighed contentedly. “Very.” She swiveled around and put her hands flat against his chest. “And I have you to thank for it. I can’t tell you how much I—”
He leaned down and kissed her, slowly and tenderly. “Let’s call it a joint effort. You worked every bit as hard as I did.”
She shook her head. “That’s a lie, and you know it. I’m glad you let me help though, after I had my, ahem, accident.”
He examined her thumb. A faint scar was all that remained. “I was afraid that if I hadn’t, you’d have been the one here in the middle of the night trying to do something dangerous. My heart couldn’t take that kind of strain. Letting you work with me was self-defense.”
She took a deep breath. “I, uh, wondered if you’d like to stay for dinner?” Unless, of course you have a hot date with Christy. “Seems only right I should share my first meal here with you.”
Other than an occasional kiss, their relationship had stayed fairly platonic. Zoe wasn’t sure if that was intentional or just the result of long workdays and exhaustion. She didn’t want to put any pressure on him. On the other hand, a couple of hours making out on her new sofa would go a long way toward restoring her sense of feminine desirability.
He hesitated, and her heart took a nosedive. I guess the waitress at Ed’s Diner will be the lucky one tonight. Those kisses that stir my blood are probably just casual fun to him. Something he does with every woman he knows for longer than a day or two. Maybe even an hour or two.
She steeled herself for rejection and mustered a light-hearted escape clause. “Not that I’m actually going to cook. Culinary arts are not my strong suit. I was only going to order some take-out from Donatelli’s, so if you have other plans, it’s no biggie.”
She went to her brand-new refrigerator and took out the bottle of wine Amanda had given her as a housewarming gift. If he wasn’t going to stay, she’d probably drink it all herself.
He took it out of her hands and set it on the counter. “Come here, sweet cheeks.”
He tugged her close and dropped kisses, first on her nose, then each cheek, then—finally—on her lips. She put her arms around his neck and melted against him, her breasts crushed by the flat plane of his chest as his arms tightened around her. His tongue teased her lips apart and sought entrance to her mouth and she could feel the growing evidence of his desire pressing against her belly. He fumbled with the hem of her shirt, finally slipping his hand underneath. Her skin quivered at his touch and she felt dampness begin between her legs.
His fingertips grazed the underside of her breast and she moaned into his mouth, curling one leg around his thigh. He boosted her up onto the counter and unzipped her jeans while she tugged his shirt up, both of them suddenly frantic to touch and be touched. She planted kisses on his chest and licked a nipple as he stripped her shirt off and unhooked her bra. The air felt cool on her heated skin and she shivered, more from passion than the cold. He took her mouth again, fiercely this time, his tongue thrusting inside as she opened to him.
Inside her head, her conscience screamed, “Stop! You know he wanted this right from the get-go, and now you’re giving in. Just what you swore you wouldn’t do.” I’m weak, she admitted, then slammed the door on her common sense.
He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, her legs wrapped around him, the bulge of him pressing against her. He made quick work of her jeans and the now soaked thong underneath. He laid her back on the bed and gazed at
her with an intensity bordering on awe.
“God, you’re gorgeous, woman.” He traced a finger between her breasts down to her navel.
She squirmed in delight. “Get rid of those pants and let me see you. All of you.” The washboard abs descended toward a dark patch of hair which rose above the edge of his low-slung jeans. No boxers, no briefs. His erection sprang free as he lowered the zipper. He kicked them off and followed her down, pressing her into the mattress, the length of him cradled against her heat.
He’d taken a condom out of his pocket and tossed it onto the pillow. She reached for it. He cuffed her wrists with his hands. “Slow down, sweet cheeks, we’ve got plenty of time.” He busied himself with her breasts, first licking and suckling one nipple then switching to the other.
She gasped and arched toward him, her back bowing off the mattress. “Maybe you have plenty of time, but I want you inside me. Now. Really. Right. Now.”
She fondled his hard length and cupped his balls. With that kind of encouragement, he reached for the condom and ripped it open with his teeth. Covering himself quickly, he then dipped a finger into her and spread her juices on the nubbin at the top of her cleft. Hot white light showered through her, igniting every last erogenous nerve ending. She couldn’t wait any longer. She directed his shaft right where it needed to go.
“Now,” she demanded.
With no hesitation, he thrust his full length into her, grasping her hips and raising her off the bed to penetrate her completely. She moaned as he slowly withdrew only to slide into her again, stretching her to accommodate his fullness.
She tried to hold back but it had been too long since the word sex meant anything other than M or F on some form. She was so close to the edge. And he lit her up like a Fourth of July firecracker with a very short fuse. His next thrust took her over the brink and she dug her nails into his shoulders as the walls of her vagina convulsed around him.
His By Design Page 9
