by Gina Wilkins
“How do you like being an uncle?”
She was pleased to see a shadow of his old grin flit across his firm lips. “The boys tend to think of me as an automatic treat dispenser. Tug at my jeans and candy magically emerges from my pocket. Holly says it’s a good thing I don’t see them often or she’d have to put a stop to it. As it is, she turns a blind eye. She knows I won’t overdo it. And I always get them to work up a sweat to burn off the extra sugar.”
An image of him roughhousing with two cute little boys distracted her for several moments. As prickly as he could sometimes be with adults, Gavin had always liked kids, and the feeling had been mutual. She would bet he was the kind of uncle who would roll in the dirt with his nephews, let them climb all over him, sticky fingers and all.
Thad would be more likely to teach his nephews, if he had any, to play chess. Which would also be quite cute, she assured herself quickly, feeling a vague, totally unjustified ripple of guilt course through her, as if she’d been disloyal.
Gavin changed the subject. “What are you doing these days?”
“I own a fashion and accessories boutique in Little Rock.”
“What’s it called?”
“Complements.”
He nodded. “I’ve heard of the place. Someone I dated briefly shopped there a lot.”
“That’s good to hear. That she liked my store, I mean.”
He chuckled drily. “She complained about the high prices, but she still shopped there enough to max out her credit cards.”
“We carry high-end merchandise,” Jenny replied without apology. “Designer items that can’t be found in the local department stores.”
“Yes, well, it’s been a year or so since I’ve seen her, but I’m sure she’s still a loyal customer.”
Judging from his dispassionate tone, she doubted he’d been particularly invested in the relationship. If the woman was a regular patron at Complements, it was entirely possible Jenny knew her, but she had no intention of asking him. It was none of her business who Gavin had dated since she’d last seen him. Nor if he was dating anyone seriously now. Just as she saw no reason to discuss Thad with him.
He pushed away his empty bowl and picked up his coffee cup. “So you accomplished your lifelong goal. You own your own successful business. I assume you obtained an MBA, as well? That was always the plan, wasn’t it?”
She felt her chin rise in instinctive irritation, and she lowered it deliberately, keeping her expression composed. “Yes. I’m planning to open a second store in the next few months. I love my work.”
Which was absolutely true—and another reason she was having trouble deciding whether to accept Thad’s proposal, she thought somberly. Marrying Thad would change her life significantly. Though he’d always expressed his respect and admiration for her business achievements, he’d been quite candid about what he was looking for in a life partner. Supporting his political aspirations was high on his list of attributes in a mate. To keep up with the demands of that undertaking, she’d either have to sell her business eventually or at the very least turn over most of the daily operations to employees. After spending so much time tenaciously building her clientele and reputation, it was hard to contemplate putting Complements in the hands of anyone else.
None of which she was going to discuss with Gavin, of course. She sipped her rapidly cooling coffee, then set the cup on the table. “So, you did what you wanted, as well. You became a police officer.”
She hadn’t forgotten that he’d once wanted that career more than he’d wanted her. She wouldn’t lie to herself that there wasn’t still a little sting to the memories, but she hoped she’d hidden any remaining bitterness.
He nodded. “Went back and earned a degree in criminal justice, too. I took night classes and online courses when I was off-duty. Made my dad somewhat happier, anyway.”
Both Gavin’s parents had been educators. Neither had been pleased when he’d decided at an early age that he wanted to be a police officer. Their objection hadn’t been the social status or modest pay scale of police—which had been the bluntly stated basis of her grandmother’s disdain for the job—but rather the danger and unsavory situations in which their son would spend many of his working hours. They’d made no secret that they’d hoped he would change his mind while he obtained his college degree.
Jenny had met him in a sophomore sociology class. The attraction had been immediate and powerful. After they’d started dating, she’d added her arguments to his parents’, trying to convince him to channel his interest in criminal justice into a less dangerous profession. At first, he’d seemed to concur and begun to study for the law school entrance exam, to put away bad guys as a prosecutor rather than an officer. Truthfully, she’d been aware of his underlying lack of enthusiasm for that career path, but in her youthful optimism, she’d been sure he would learn to like it.
On the very rare occasions when she had looked back at their eighteen-month-long relationship through the viewpoint of a more mature adult, she’d realized it was probably his feelings of being pressured into a career he didn’t want that had made him turn sullen and difficult. He must have felt as if his own desires were always being disparaged and discouraged. He’d quarreled more and more often with his parents, and with her. He’d accused her of being so obsessed with her own ambitions, of trying so hard to please her grandmother, that she was willing to sacrifice their relationship to achieve her aims.
Maybe her lofty goals didn’t include being married to an ordinary cop, he’d snarled. Maybe the reason she kept urging him to go to law school had been more for her own ambitions than for his. During the ensuing years, she’d wondered uncomfortably if there had been some grain of truth in his allegations. She’d always assured herself that, like his parents, she had worried more about the risk and uncertainty of a police officer’s work rather than any lack of social status. She had witnessed her own mother’s grief after being widowed at a young age by a charming, daredevil firefighter, who’d been as reckless off-duty as on the job and had died in a drag-racing accident. Having struggled with that gaping loss herself, Jenny hadn’t been able to deal with the thought of losing the man she loved in the line of dangerous duty. The image still made her blood chill.
She’d been unable to convince Gavin exactly how upsetting that possibility had been to her. They’d had one last, fierce quarrel in which they’d both said very hurtful things, and that had been the end of their romance. The emotions had been too raw, the anger too hot, to allow them an amicable parting. A week later, she’d been shocked to learn that Gavin had left the university, only three semesters short of graduation. She assumed he’d entered the police academy soon afterward, though she’d never heard from him again. She had thrown herself into her studies, shedding her tears in private and burying the pain as deeply as possible, rarely to be acknowledged since.
Maybe Gavin’s thoughts, too, had drifted back to their painful breakup, because before she could reply, he shoved his chair back abruptly from the table. “I’m going to start on that tree. Thanks for the breakfast.”
“You should take care with that shoulder.”
He merely gave her a look and walked out, leaving her shaking her head in exasperation. While Gavin had changed in many noticeable ways since she’d last seen him, it was obvious that he was still as stubborn as ever.
* * *
The rain had dwindled to little more than a cool mist while he’d been inside. Gavin tossed damp hair out of his face and lifted the chain saw from the back of his truck with his good arm. Pulling the starter was going to be a challenge, but he’d manage. The sooner he cleared that tree out of the way, the sooner he or Jenny or both of them could get away from here. And the sooner there would be an end to those uncomfortable catch-up conversations.
Why the hell had he felt the need to tell her he’d gotten his degree? He’d
heard himself blurting it out almost before he’d realized it. That damned degree didn’t make him any more worthy, as far as he was concerned. Jenny could have a dozen advanced degrees and own a Fortune 500 company, and he would still take pride in the uniform he donned every working day.
He remembered vividly the way Jenny’s grandmother’s lip had curled when he’d mentioned his intention to enter the police academy after finishing college. Lena Patterson had made it quite clear that she had higher aspirations for her granddaughter than to align herself with a “low-level civil servant.” Having known by then that Jenny’s father’s death had left them grief-stricken and financially burdened, Gavin had decided that Lena Patterson was a pompous, bitter woman. She had channeled her personal disappointments into her bright, beautiful and motivated granddaughter, pushing Jenny toward higher education and a socially and economically advantageous marriage.
The old woman had done a damned good job of programming her granddaughter from a very early age. He’d seen the way Jenny lit up in response to Lena’s sparsely doled praise. That had been hard for him to compete with at twenty-one. He doubted he could do so even now, if he were inclined to try.
He set the chain saw beside the other tools he’d already gathered around the fallen tree and stepped back to analyze the project. The oak was big. The uptilted root ball came almost to his shoulder. A tangle of leafy branches covered the driveway in a dense barrier. Even with two good arms, this tree would require hours to remove.
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he removed one bulky work glove to draw it out, sighing when he saw his mother’s number.
“I’m fine, Mom,” he said without giving her a chance to say anything.
She laughed softly, unperturbed by his sardonic tone. “I’m glad to hear it. It sounds as if your area got hit hard by last night’s storms.”
“Lost a couple of trees, a bunch of limbs. Couple leaks in the back bedroom I’m going to have to patch. Other than that, no real damage done.”
“I heard there was flooding up that way.”
“There’s flooding down the road, but just a few wet patches up here on the hill.” His dad had always said that the river would have to be at hundred-year flood stages to creep up to the cabin.
“Can you get out?”
“Not yet, but the water should go down fairly quickly once the rain finally stops.” He hoped the road would be dry enough for safe travel by the end of the day, though the heavy cloud cover did not look promising. He wouldn’t be surprised to be drenched again at any minute.
“How’s your shoulder? Is the infection better?”
“Better. No fever today.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Now, please use common sense and try not to overdo it with the storm cleanup. I know better than to try to make you promise not to tackle any of it today.”
“I won’t overdo it.”
“I worry about you being up there all alone when you haven’t been out of the hospital for a whole week yet. I know you don’t like being hovered over, but I wish you’d stayed a bit closer to home for at least a few more days.”
“Gavin, do you have an extra pair of work gloves I can use?” Jenny called from behind him before he could reassure his mom again. “I’d be glad to help you clear this... Oh. I’m sorry.” Spotting the phone in his hand, she grimaced in apology.
He should have known his too-perceptive mother wouldn’t miss a beat. “Gavin? Someone is there with you? Is it anyone I know?”
There was no way he was telling her at the moment about his ex-girlfriend’s presence. His mom had liked Jenny back in the day, even though she’d reacted in true overprotective mama-bear mode when Jenny broke up with him. She’d insisted that Jenny had broken her son’s heart. Gavin wouldn’t have phrased it quite that way. Then again, he couldn’t really argue it, either.
“I have to take care of some things around here before the rain starts again,” he said into the phone, ignoring her questions. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
He heard her sigh, but his mother surrendered to the inevitable. No doubt she’d grill him good later, face-to-face. “Fine. Just...take care of yourself, will you?”
“Bye, Mom.”
He disconnected the call and shoved the phone back into his pocket before turning to Jenny, studying her through the clear plastic protective glasses. She’d changed into a T-shirt and jeans. She’d pulled her hair into a loose ponytail. Beads of fine mist already glittered within the dark strands. Trendy, neon-green running shoes not at all suited to muddy manual labor encased her feet.
She held up her perfectly manicured hands. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were on the phone. I’m looking for an extra pair of work gloves so I can help you.”
“I can handle this.”
“It will go faster if I pitch in.”
He wasn’t so sure about that. She could prove to be more of a distraction than a help. But he could think of no way to decline the offer without coming across as a jerk. If he tried too obviously to avoid her, she might even think he’d never quite gotten over her.
He cocked his chin toward the back of the house. “Extra work gloves and safety glasses are behind the seat in my truck. It isn’t locked.”
He figured she’d tire out quickly and head back inside. Until then, he would keep her too busy to reminisce.
He had the chain saw running by the time she returned wearing the too-large, leather-and-canvas gloves and an oversize pair of plastic safety goggles. He’d deliberately waited until she was out of sight to fire up the saw so she wouldn’t see him wince and curse when he pulled the starter cord. He had no intention of showing her how much discomfort he was in—not actual pain, but that would probably set in before the day ended. Didn’t matter. He wanted this road cleared as quickly as possible.
Because the saw was so noisy, he communicated with shouts and hand motions, instructing her to stay at a safe distance while he cut, after which she could drag the smaller pieces off the road and into the ditch. Considering her formidable resolve, he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that Jenny threw herself into the job. It was dirty and sweaty work, but she pushed on gamely until her ponytail straggled against her damp neck, her clothes were muddy and her shirt had a small tear at the hem, perhaps from catching on a sharp branch. And still he had to force himself to concentrate on the potentially hazardous job at hand when his eyes wanted to turn in her direction instead. Even tousled and grubby—or perhaps especially so—something about her made his thoughts wander into dangerous and forbidden directions and brought back memories that heated his blood and hardened his groin.
Didn’t mean anything, he assured himself. He was a reasonably healthy male in the middle of a dry spell, so it was only natural for him to react to an attractive, temptingly tousled woman.
After two hours, she looked as though her energy was fading fast. He felt as though he’d been kicked in the shoulder by an angry horse. Turning off the saw, he set it on the ground and swiped at his sweat-beaded forehead with the back of his left hand. He’d removed several of the large limbs, but a few more needed to come off before he could even attempt to move the tree off the road. It was taking longer than he wanted to cut through the hard wood. He only hoped he had enough gas and oil on hand to finish the job.
He still needed to figure out a way to pull the tree out of the roadway, but maybe he could think more clearly after taking something for pain. He knew better than to swallow prescription pills and then run a power saw, so he’d settle for over-the-counter remedies. He glanced at Jenny. “You need a break.”
Even muddy, wet and wilted, she could skewer him with a lifted eyebrow. “I need a break?”
“We need a break,” he conceded grudgingly.
She nodded in satisfaction. “I just want to move this last branch.”
She took hold
of a leafy limb the size of a small tree and gave a tug. It didn’t budge. Gavin stood beside her, grabbing the branch with his left hand. Their gloved hands almost touched. He had only to shift his weight a little to be pressed against her from behind. She glanced up at him over her shoulder and their eyes locked. Hers dilated a bit; his probably did, too.
He told himself again that some reactions were purely biological. And then quickly slid his hand down a couple inches from hers, ostensibly to get a better grip. “On three.”
With his count, Jenny pulled so enthusiastically he nearly fell backward when the branch shot forward. He put one foot back to steady himself, and reached out automatically with his right hand to get a better grip. A grunt of pain escaped him before he could swallow it. He hoped Jenny hadn’t heard, but he should have known better. She didn’t say anything, but he saw the sympathy on her face when he glanced at her.
He turned away. The one thing he had never wanted from Jenny Baer was pity. “Let’s go inside.”
* * *
Gavin insisted Jenny take the bathroom first to get cleaned up while he put on the kettle for tea. He was still making an effort to be a thoughtful host, she thought. Smiling a little, she closed herself in the bathroom, then glanced into the mirror. Her smile faded immediately. She reached hastily for a washcloth and a bar of soap.
When she rejoined Gavin in the kitchen, she spotted a bottle of over-the-counter pain relievers by the sink that hadn’t been there earlier. His shoulder had to be giving him fits, but he hadn’t complained once and she didn’t think he wanted her to ask.
“Thank you,” she said, accepting the mug he offered her. The tea was still too hot to drink, so she carried it to the table and took a seat to wait for it to cool a bit.
“I checked the weather on my phone. Rain’s moving this way again, but maybe this round will pass through quickly.”
“I hope so.”
Gavin moved toward the bathroom, carrying his mug with him. “I’m going to wash up. Make yourself at home.”
