Waiting for Tuesday: Suspicious Hearts Book Two

by Taylor Sullivan

  Becky narrowed her eyes, obviously noticing my fluster. “I don’t care what it does.” She rose to her feet. “I wouldn’t take placenta pills if you paid me.” She turned to John and lifted her chin. “How about you? Are you into placenta?”

  He stepped forward and held out his hand. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m John Eaton.”

  She smiled. “Becky. And you didn’t answer the question.”

  He grinned a little and glanced at me. “No, I’m not into placenta.” But the way he said it, with his voice lowered a little, and his eyes searching mine—I couldn’t breathe.

  I swallowed then turned to my display and continued stocking lotions on the shelf. I hated that he could affect me like this. He was a player, someone I needed to stay away from, yet my body wasn’t listening to what I was throwing down. It wanted him, and the tiny flutters all the way to my toes were only one of the signals.

  He moved to lean against the counter next to me, his tool belt resting perfectly over his narrow hips, and his forearm flexing as he braced himself there. He grabbed a cookie from the plate and took a bite.

  I cleared my throat and looked over. “Did you need something?”

  He shook his head. “Just expecting a friend.”

  “Oh.” I nodded and continued to work. But I was irritated—and it was becoming increasingly difficult to swallow. He hadn’t come out here in two days, yet here he was with the gall to show himself looking like that. His t-shirt stretching across his broad chest, his beard all shadowy and accenting his manly jaw, and his lips—a shade of pink that would make any girl jealous, but somehow looking absolutely perfect on him. The way he looked every day.

  I peered at him, frustrated by all of it. “Those are lactation cookies,” I muttered.

  His face contorted with disgust, and I couldn’t help but smirk with satisfaction. I wasn’t being fair. I was mad at myself, not him.

  He spit the contents of the cookie into his napkin and coughed slightly. “Did I just eat placenta?”

  I giggled at the thought then attempted to stifle the growing laughter with my hand. “N-no. Just oatmeal and brewer’s yeast.” But it wasn’t working.

  He grinned slightly, wiping his face with the back of his hand, then picked up another cookie.

  The bell at the front door jingled and I turned around. A tall brunette with short hair walked inside, and I instantly began climbing down the ladder.

  “Can I help you?” I asked. But John pushed himself off the counter and walked toward her. Her smile widened as he pulled her into his big, strong arms. My lungs deflated and I leaned against the shelf for support.

  Her figure was stunning, curvaceous, held with the confidence I’d only seen from movie stars. She wore big Hollywood glasses, a pencil skirt, and reminded me of Marilyn Monroe. And there was one thing that was certain: she wasn’t the placenta lady.

  He turned around to face me. “Em, this is Tuesday Patil. Miss Patil, this is my friend Em…” But his voice trailed off a bit, and he looked at me with uncertainty.

  I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling sick, but held my hand out to shake anyway. “Nice to meet you,” I said, but I could barely hear my own voice, barely hear hers as she repeated my words and shook my hand.

  We made small talk for a few minutes. She asked about my products and complimented me on the shop, but I couldn’t focus beyond the fact that John had kissed me only days before. Yet, here he was, with another woman in my shop, flaunting her in front of my face.

  “So where are you two off to?” Becky asked, coming to stand by my side.

  “Probably Donovan’s. I’ve been craving their fries for weeks,” Em replied. “Have you ever had them?”

  Becky smiled and shook her head. “No, but I’ll put them on my list.”

  We stood there a minute longer, all four of us, and said nothing. The air became thick as a fog, and John eventually took his tool belt off and placed it on the counter. “Well, I guess we should get out of here. Then he turned to me, his eyes asking a thousand questions. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  “Have fun.” I turned back to the shelf and started working.

  “It was nice meeting you,” Em said, but I only nodded, too shaken to turn around again.

  The door jingled at their exit. Becky walked over to me and rested her hand on the small of my back. “Okay, tell me what’s going on. And start at the beginning.”

  When he came back later that afternoon, I was in my office, wasted. I’d spent over an hour spilling my guts to Becky, filling her in on every moment, every touch that John and I shared that I’d kept a secret… And I cried.

  I don’t know if it was because of stress from everything going on, or the relief of finally sharing it with her, but it was something I swore I wouldn’t do, yet I found myself blubbering on the shoulder of my best friend as I confessed to her about a boy. A boy who had kissed me so good I almost believed in fairy tales again. Almost.

  To my surprise, she hadn’t given me advice as she usually did. She asked me what I wanted—which would normally be the response I craved—yet I couldn’t form an answer. I didn’t want to figure this out on my own, but she was no help at all.

  She’d left over an hour earlier, and still, I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do.

  I stared at the screen on my desk, tapping my fingers on the hard surface, searching my mind for answers… but I found nothing. I knew I didn’t have time for a relationship, nor the energy… but I still wanted him. I wanted him to be mine, but it was like trying to make a home for a whale inside a bathtub. He didn’t fit the mold I had for him. He was too big, too much, too… I didn’t have the words for it.

  When John entered the room, I didn't even look up. I didn't acknowledge his presence at all, just continued typing at my computer, hoping he'd eventually take the hint and leave.

  He didn't. He didn’t seem bothered by my ignoring him at all and leaned against the doorway, examining his fingernails.

  I clenched my jaw and continued adding items to my online cart. He was irritating, and even though I desperately wanted to give him the cold shoulder, he was making it impossible to work.

  I pushed my glasses to the bridge of my nose and cleared my throat. “Can I help you with something?” My tone held an inflection you’d expect of a sales clerk.

  He glanced over, taking his sweet ass time before answering. “I was just wondering when we were going to address the elephant in the room.”

  My heart hitched and I moistened my lips. “If you're talking about the cookies―”

  He smirked. “You know God damn well it’s not about the cookies.” He turned to face me, his legs braced apart and face sober. “I’m talking about the fact you've been giving me the cold shoulder ever since I kissed you two days ago.”

  His voice was deep, layered with an urgency I didn't understand. A thousand excuses tickled my tongue, but none of them convincing enough. I pushed myself from my seat, crossed the room before I knew what I was doing, and stood in front of him. Practically nose to nose. “How can you kiss me like that one day, and bring another woman into my shop the next?”

  I hadn’t meant to ask the question. It let on too much about how I felt, but it was too late. His brow lifted and his eyes bored into mine. He didn't speak for a moment, just searched my face, causing all the insecurities inside me to shake.

  “Is that what this was about?” His voice was softer, kinder, but held a hint of gravel that twisted my stomach.

  I shook my head and tried to leave the room, realizing this conversation was going nowhere good, but his hand on my arm stilled me.

  “She's just a friend, Tuesday.”

  His eyes were deep and searching, causing my hopeful heart to squeeze. “Did you bring her here to make me jealous?”

  One of his brows lifted. “Are you?”

  It was a ridiculous question; one there was no point in answering. I turned to leave again, but he held me tighter.

  “
She’s a friend who needed someone to talk to. That's it.” Then he dropped his hand, allowing me to leave, but there was an edge to his voice that made me look up.

  Here was my chance to go, to put the distance between us, but my heart was caught in quicksand—uncontrollably sinking. I found myself wanting to help, even though I didn’t know what was wrong. “Is everything okay?” My voice wavered, but for once I didn’t care.

  He shook his head and looked up to the ceiling. “It’s her story to tell, not mine.” Then his gaze settled on me again. “You haven’t answered my question.”

  I backed up a step, finding the wall at my feet. “What question?”

  “Are you jealous?”

  I looked away, annoyed by the fact he was pushing me like this. “Why do you even care?” My chest heaved as I pulled in a breath. “Does it give you pleasure, knowing I want you? That everyone does? So you can add another notch to your bedpost?”

  His jaw constricted, but he didn’t speak.

  “My being jealous has nothing to do with us. How I feel about the women you go out with doesn’t matter. You’re my employee, that’s it.”

  He stepped toward me, causing the air to deflate from my lungs. “I'm not your employee.” His voice was firm, filled with a gravel that overwhelmed my stomach with tiny flutters. “And how you feel has everything to do with this.” His eyes raked over my face, down to my mouth, and then up to my eyes again. “If my working here is a problem, I’ll walk out that door right now and tell Jake to find someone else.”

  A knot formed in my throat. All of a sudden, the one thing I thought I wanted sounded like my worst idea ever. I didn’t want him to stop working for me. I couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing him again. “W-why would you do that?”

  He looked at me for a second, not moving, then he took a step backward. “Because.” He paused for so long I thought he was finished, but then he spoke again. “Because there’s something between us, Tuesday. Something I haven’t felt in a long time. And judging by the way you kissed me, you feel it too.”

  I shook my head and swallowed. “I didn’t kiss you. You kissed me.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. His voice lowered, soft and rough at the same time… A voice just for me. “You kissed me, Tuesday. You kissed me so good I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Not with your mouth, but your whole body. Every part of you was in that kiss, and I want more. ”

  My eyes widened. Never in my life had I been spoken to like that. So brazenly honest, not hiding an ounce of the truth. It did something to my insides that made me want to kiss him again. “What do you want from me?”

  I wasn’t sure what I wanted to hear, but I needed more time. I needed time to think, time to figure out how to get out of this mess…or decide if I wanted out at all.

  He leaned against the counter, crossing his feet out in front of him. “I think you know what I want.”

  I swallowed. I knew I should leave, but my feet were glued to the floor— and my eyes, they were transfixed on a man who just admitted, not for the first time, that he wanted me. Blood rushed to every part of my body, and my mouth fell open.

  “The way I see it,” he continued, “I can walk out of this office, and we can never talk about this again, or”—his eyes held onto mine, taking them captive in his deep, seductive gaze—“we can stop denying this attraction, and you can meet me after work tonight. But I’ll warn you Tuesday, if you were one of my sisters, I’d tell you to run. You deserve better than I’ll ever be able to give you, but the thing is, I’m too goddamned selfish not to ask.”

  His eyes never left mine, his face serious as he watched for my reaction.

  On the one hand, I was pretty sure I should be offended. He just admitted he wanted me—maybe only for sex. But on the other hand, maybe it wasn’t the worst idea in the world. I had needs, needs I was certain he could take care of, and he was offering himself to me on a golden platter.

  One of the guys called from the back room, and my heart jumped to my throat. In the midst of this heated conversation, I forgot we weren’t alone. Which was a good thing in the moment… I didn’t know what would happen if we were. John looked over his shoulder, calling back that he’d be there in a minute then met my eyes again.

  “Yes or no, Tuesday?”

  Every nerve in my body was on fire, but my brain must’ve been full of cotton wool, as the only word I could think of was, “Yes.”

  He nodded then but didn’t smile, just pushed himself off the counter again and headed for the back room. “I’ll pick you up at your place at seven.”

  I shook my head and fisted my hands at my sides. “I’ll meet you here.”

  His brows furrowed, seeming bothered by my reluctance to invite him home, but eventually he nodded. “Seven.”

  Then he walked out of the room, closing my office door behind him, and I hid my face in both hands. “What did you just do, Tuesday? What have you done?”

  Chapter SEVENTEEN

  Tuesday

  Whiskers weaved in and out of my legs by my closet, causing me to stumble as I pulled a long, bohemian skirt from its hanger. “Ooof!” He fell to his side, looked up with pathetic green eyes, and mewed.

  I frowned and crouched down to my haunches to scratch him behind the ears. “I’m sorry, buddy.”

  He began to purr, rolled to his back, and started rubbing himself against the carpeted floor, ignoring me.

  I pushed myself to stand, feeling guilty about rushing out of the house so quickly when Whiskers had been left alone all week. But he’d always been a loner, and I wasn’t sure he’d notice my absence anyway.

  Which reminded me. I grabbed a dark brown halter from the top of my dresser and pulled it over my head before I walked down the hall, sliding my skirt to my hips. The best thing about wearing only a B cup was that a nice cotton spandex was all the support I needed.

  Whiskers’ bowl sat on the mat by the breakfast table, and I filled it with two scoops of kibble. Then out of guilt, I opened the fridge and added a few pieces of tofu on top. John would be back at the shop any minute, so I really had to go, but already my stomach was filled with nervous flutters.

  I should have said no, but I couldn’t. All the reasons and excuses I’d come up with since I met him weren’t good enough anymore. I wanted him. I wanted this, and as hard as it was for me to admit, there was something between us that was beyond my understanding. Even though I’d never done anything like this before in my life, a part of me knew I’d regret it if we didn’t explore it.

  I leaned against the wall to pull on my sandals, thinking about that afternoon. The fact that he would walk out on work because of how I felt about the situation still rocked me. I searched my mind for any man who’d ever cared that much, was willing to give up something—anything—like that for me… but I couldn’t, not even my own father.

  Something pulled at my heart strings a little bit. Something I didn’t have a name for. I only met him six weeks ago, and for half of that I couldn’t even stand him. Yet here I was, getting ready for a night that was pretty much guaranteed to lead to sex. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. All I knew was the thought of seeing him again sent a shiver up my spine and caused goose bumps to cover my whole body.

  I grabbed my bag and keys from the top of the bar, and Whiskers turned to look at me.

  “It’s just a date. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  He tilted his head slightly, as if knowing that wasn’t the full truth. I paused at the couch and scratched him behind the ears before opening the door. “It’s nothing. It’ll be fine.”

  John was sitting in the bed of his truck when I pulled into the lot. Exactly as he had the afternoon he kissed me, but this time he was waiting for me. I was ten minutes late, which already had my nerves on edge, but the sight of him wasn’t helping matters. Seeing him again was like pulling in a lung full of crisp clean air after climbing a tall mountain. It sent goose bumps to run the length of my body but fil
led me with a sense of satisfaction that overwhelmed me. It didn’t seem possible, but he was becoming more and more attractive the longer I knew him.

  He wore the same style of jeans I’d seen him in almost every day, though these were a little darker. Maybe a little newer. His face was clean-shaven, his hair freshly styled, and his soft, blue button-up shirt was stretched across his broad shoulders and rolled up to his forearms.

  I took a deep breath and climbed out of my cab. My heart was beating harder and faster with every step, but I kept moving toward him.

  His eyes raked over me, taking me in, then came to a stop on my face. “I was beginning to think you changed your mind.”

  A knot formed in my throat, tight and constricting. “It was touch and go for a while, but I didn't want to make things awkward between us in the morning.”

  He laughed then shook his head and looked down to his feet. He was beautiful, sinfully good looking—maybe more so because he got my sense of humor. He was the type of guy I would normally deny myself. But here I was with my heart in my throat as I walked toward the devil, and it felt amazing. I inhaled deeply as I came to stand in front of him. The smell of him, even though faint, left me intoxicated. I loved the scent of him. So clean, masculine, and raw.

  I came to rest on the tailgate, not sure what was supposed to happen next. I’d never had a relationship like this before. One that was purely about enjoying each other and nothing more.

  “So, how do you feel about animals?” he asked.

  I turned to him. “That depends, what kind?”

  His chin tipped up as he looked over at me. "Lions, tigers, bears. That kind of thing.”

  “Do you want to watch the Wizard of Oz?” I laughed.