by Dawn Atkins
Heidi remembered that Autumn was good with math and got an idea. “Maybe you could help Jasmine write a budget.”
“So she can tell me I’m an idiot when I blow it?” Jasmine said. “No way.”
“If you’d just make an effort,” Autumn said.
“Do you think you’d value a budget, Jasmine?”
“Sometimes…maybe.”
“Are you willing to help her, Autumn, without expecting perfection? Or rolling your eyes?”
“If you want that, I guess.” Autumn almost looked shy.
“If you promise not to get all sarcastic and snotty on me. Don’t laugh, but I’d like to start a college fund for Sabrina. Can you help me with that?”
“No sweat.”
“I’m not giving up her riding lessons. She meets quality people.”
“You have to cut back and prioritize….”
The dancers talked it through with Heidi gently guiding the discussion, losing herself in the moment and the success.
When Rox stuck her head into the room, Heidi was completely startled. “What are you doing, girl? Get out here. You’ve been on break forever.”
“Sorry, sorry.” She’d slipped into her Cut ’n’ Curl self and felt better than she had since she’d come to town, forgetting completely that she had drinks to deliver, money to make.
And Jackson to forget. Jackson, who was everybody’s big brother, a closed-off loner and a one-time lover. She’d heard it straight from the mouths of women who knew him well—had slept with him even. They’d taken her advice and she’d be wise to take theirs.
9
A WEEK LATER, Heidi sat at the kitchen table doing the math on her life. And it wasn’t adding up. Ten days at two jobs—three, counting housekeeping—and she’d saved barely two hundred dollars. She’d had to repay Blythe for borrowed product, gone in on an ad with her to build business and paid her own cell phone bill. Two hundred dollars wasn’t a month’s rent, let alone a deposit, and, at this rate, college tuition would be months and months and months away.
To make matters worse, the plumbing was down at Shear Ecstasy again today, hence her return home and her reality check. If it weren’t for Jackson letting her live here free, she’d be dead in the water. Juggling day and night jobs and spending so much time on her feet, she’d let the housework slip lately, too.
If an affair with Jackson had even been a possibility, she was too tired to have one. She wasn’t sure there was any sexual tension left, since Jackson had effectively dodged her, keeping to his room or scooting out of the house just as she arrived. He kept his distance at work, though from time to time she thought she felt his eyes on her from the DJ booth.
She heard the mail truck outside, so she padded out to collect the mail. Her cheerful hello startled the carrier, who probably wasn’t used to talking to his customers. Big-city anonymity. She wasn’t fond of that. She missed the familiarity and friendliness of Copper Corners. And the fact that she didn’t have to fear strange neighbors who might rob her. She’d taken Copper Corners for granted.
Among Jackson’s bills, advertising circulars and a car magazine, she found a big, fat Town-of-Copper-Corners envelope for her. Michael had packaged up her mail and forwarded it from town hall. She carried everything inside and dug into the envelope.
Right on top was her ASU catalog. “Thought you might need this next week,” he’d written on a yellow sticky with a big smiley face. Guilt speared her. She’d pored through this book, highlighting courses, circling professor names, peppering the pages with exclamation marks. It seemed so far away now. With her finances as they were, she might not be able to take second semester, either. Frustration brought tears to her eyes.
She blinked them away, set aside the catalog, then found a blue greeting-card envelope with her name on it in Mike’s handwriting. She opened it and a check drifted to the kitchen table. It lodged in a blob of ketchup and she caught sight of the number on it. One thousand dollars. All those zeroes, big and bold. The line at the bottom said, for incidentals.
Incidentals? Good lord. It would take her three months to save this amount of money and Mike had handed it over as a p.s. to a greeting card.
We miss you, he’d written. Hope the city is treating you right. We’re proud of you. Even if we think you’re crazy. Call us. The Greater and Lesser Worrywarts.
Love and homesickness swamped her. She missed her brothers, who were proud of her. She’d lost the car they’d given her, along with all her money, and now lived with a strange man and worked in a strip joint.
Oh, dear.
Under the card from her brothers were notes and cards from her friends and hair clients. And beneath that was a gift from Celia—capris she’d cross-stitched to match the crop top Heidi had cheerfully worn on her big drive to Phoenix a little over two weeks ago, when she’d been bursting with hope and determination.
Everyone misses you, Celia wrote in the note she’d pinned to the pants. The new girl is slow and silent as church…Those books you sent are all checked out, but they aren’t as good as the real deal. Everyone wants you back. Come back, girl.
Heidi’s heart ached at the words. She read through the other notes from customers, all with news. Tim Thompson, eighth grade, was getting better marks since his mom had signed him up for basketball. Madge Miller’s husband got a new job. Raymond Bristow had admitted he had a problem and was going to AA. Betsy’s message was especially heartwarming.
Thank you, Heidi. You helped us turn the page. You get that degree and get back here where you belong.
Love, Betsy Brigham.
She missed Betsy and Celia. She missed the Cut ’n’ Curl and her clients and all her friends. She missed feeling safe and secure and needed and successful.
What was she doing here? She was in over her head.
A big tear dropped onto the hand-stitched Capris, smearing like a Rorschach blot. Maybe she hadn’t been ready to leave home. Maybe she’d rushed her departure, like a kid so desperate for independence she dropped out of school. Why else would she feel so discouraged, so miserable, so homesick looking at a pair of cross-stitched pants, a few notes and a college catalog?
Maybe she should go back, swallow her pride. What had Jackson said? If you were happy where you were, why push it? He had a point.
The doorbell rang. Wiping her tears, she opened the door to the UPS guy, who had several huge boxes for her. All from her brothers, it turned out. She kneeled on the floor and checked out each one. There was a microwave oven, a portable TV, an elaborate coffeemaker, a bread maker and a fancy leather backpack with all kinds of compartments.
She sat back on her haunches, overwhelmed.
Her brothers were trying to make her new life easier. Her heart squeezed with gratitude. And guilt. She’d let them down and they didn’t even know it. Again her eyes watered and spilled over. She didn’t know which choice made her feel worse—giving up or struggling onward.
The sound of the garage door grinding open made her scrub her eyes. Damn. Jackson was home. She turned her body so her back faced where he would enter, and rose on her knees to put the foam padding back on top of the microwave.
Jackson walked in whistling from the kitchen, then stopped midnote. “Wow. Early Christmas?”
Still facing away, she put a smile on her face. “My crazy brothers sent me all this. Can you believe it?” She turned to glance at him, then resumed closing the cardboard flap of the box.
But Jackson came to her and kneeled, facing her. “What’s wrong, Heidi?”
“Nothing. I’m just…confused.”
She made the mistake of looking into his eyes, which held on tight.
“About what?” He spoke so gently she wanted to tell him.
“About being here. About my brothers giving me all this junk. They wrote me a thousand-dollar check for incidentals. Can you believe that? They have no idea how foolish I’ve been. I lost the car they gave me. I lost everything. And I’m making hardly any money. I work at a strip
club, for God’s sake. I just…I can’t fix it.” Her chest heaved as she fought for air and the room seemed to close in on her.
“But you are fixing it,” he said. “You’ve got three jobs. Jeez, what more could you do?”
“Maybe I should just…go home. Start over, you know? Save up again?” Her voice rose like a child’s and she hated it. “Or just stay there. Do what I’m good at. Like you said, I was perfectly happy at Celia’s Cut ’n’ Curl learning from real life.”
Jackson just folded her into his arms.
She wanted to resist, but she felt so bad, she sank into the comfort he offered.
“Getting robbed was a bad break. Anyone would be messed up by that.”
“I should never have let that happen. I was so stupid.”
“What did you tell me about making the best choices I could at the time?”
“Yeah, but…”
“All you did was lose an SUV and some tuition money. Drop in the bucket. I flushed tens of thousands of dollars down the toilet when my station folded. I’m the one who’s stupid.”
“I guess when you put it that way…” She was trying to joke, but it hurt.
“That’s my girl. Kick me when I’m down.” He leaned back to look at her. “How were you supposed to know the guys across the street were jackals? Hell, your brothers would understand that.”
“But I had a plan and I’m nowhere close to fulfilling it.”
“You can’t give up now. Look at all you’re doing. Hell, I thought Jasmine and Autumn were fighting the other day, but it turned out Jaz was asking Autumn’s advice about a budget. A budget. I thought I was hallucinating. Those two don’t listen to anybody, but they listened to you.”
“I just started them talking…”
“Don’t give up your dream, Heidi. Just don’t.” His dark eyes sparked with heat. “You can make it. I know you can.”
His confidence in her felt good, lifted her spirits. Maybe he was right. She took a deep breath. “I guess I can stick it out a little longer,” she said, not looking at him. “It’s only been a couple of weeks.”
“Exactly.” He sounded so relieved she had to smile. Jackson wanted her to stay. That thought touched her. Maybe too much.
“Let me help you, Heidi,” he said. “I can front you the tuition money. Pay me back when you catch up.”
“Stop, Jackson. You’ve already given me so much—a place to stay, a job—two jobs, counting housekeeping.” Which she’d neglected lately.
“I want to help you,” he said doggedly. “Let me give you something.”
“What I want from you isn’t money,” she said levelly, surprised by the boldness of her words, even as they reverberated inside her with tremendous power. She was staying, dammit. And she wanted what she wanted from Jackson.
“No?” he said hoarsely. Desire flared in his eyes and it made the same desire burst hotly in her. Good. She welcomed lust over doubt any day. She focused on it, let it build, let it wash over her.
“What I want from you is this.” She grabbed his face, his cheeks rough with stubble against her palms, and kissed him. He tasted familiar and fabulous. It was a relief to be sure of one thing.
Jackson broke off the kiss. “But, Heidi, I’m—”
“Don’t say you’re not what I want. You’re exactly what I want. We’re good in bed. We have a blast. And that’s what I want—to have a blast. To try everything. And we can still work together and live together without ruining that.”
He closed his eyes, fighting his desire, she could tell, and she couldn’t let him win that battle. She reached for his zipper.
“Heidi…” But he didn’t try to stop her and she opened his pants and took his hard length out of his boxers. He felt good in her palm and right.
“If you keep that up—” he said, almost groaning.
“You won’t be able to stop me? Good.” Still holding him in one hand, she used her other hand to push him onto the floor, then slid herself down so she could take him in her mouth. It was her turn this time.
Jackson moaned and his body trembled beneath her, giving her a rush of power. Holding his shaft, she slowly ran her tongue around the top of his penis, the flesh smooth and velvet under the pressure of her tongue. The incoherent way Jackson choked out her name sent a rush of confidence through her.
She took him fully into her mouth and slid her lips down, then up, again and again, each time taking him deeper. She tightened her lips and let her tongue trace his shape, reveled in the texture, the way he pushed into her mouth.
She liked the taste of him, flesh and man. He felt good in her mouth and she quickened her pace, keeping one hand on his shaft and holding her lips tight against him. He held her head with both hands, as if to maintain contact with her.
She was making love to him with her mouth and she felt powerful and sexy and so turned on. After a few seconds, he tensed and she knew he was about to come. She wanted that, but she also wanted him inside her, so she could feel his release, maybe join him with her own, which was close now. Her body was tight with need.
As if he’d read her mind, he stopped her. “I want inside you.”
She lifted her mouth from his body and sat up to take off her shorts. This was great. She was having wild, unstoppable sex right here, right now, right on the living room floor.
“Not here. In a bed.” Jackson stopped her hand.
“Here is perfect.”
“You deserve better.” He stood, yanked her to her feet and swung her into his arms, his eyes burning for her. Okay. She’d take Rhett Butler sweeping her up the stairs. So much better than being tossed over his shoulders and thrown down for a child’s nap.
He carried her to her bed and laid down with her. He started on her blouse buttons, but he was shaking so badly, she had to take over. She undid her blouse and unclipped her bra, while he yanked his T-shirt over his head. They paused, looking at each other’s naked chests for a second, then, both at once, they shoved off shorts and pants. They couldn’t wait to be naked together.
Once they were, they stretched out, bare bodies pressed together, and kissed desperately for a while, telling each other how much they’d missed this, missed each other. Jackson broke off and rose over her, ready to enter her. That would be great, but she’d liked pushing him to the floor, having him in her sexual power, and she wanted to keep that feeling. “I want to do it this way,” she said and rolled over, forcing him onto his back.
She rose to her knees, straddled him, looking down at his muscular body and burning eyes, which said, I want in.
With a shaking hand, she guided his velvet shaft to her entrance. He slid in, inch by exquisite inch, filling her, warming her, fitting her perfectly. Soon the base of his shaft bumped her clit. She loved the thick fullness of him within her. She felt dizzy, aroused and triumphant.
He looked up at her, his eyes hot and hungry, as though he’d been starving and had suddenly been offered a feast. He gripped her hips, guiding her up and down on his cock. “You feel good.” He seemed so caught up in the sensation that his eyes closed.
“We’re good together.” She leaned forward so that his shaft rubbed her spot, and sped her movements. He squeezed her hips, holding back a little, she could tell, so as not to cause her pain.
Her orgasm arrived abruptly. As if he sensed it, his eyes flew open and he held her gaze, safe and silent, suspended in intimacy. Go for it, sweetheart. The message was clear in his eyes and she felt it in her heart just as they rocketed off together.
When the waves subsided, Heidi collapsed on Jackson’s chest, grateful, relieved and proud of herself. She’d taken charge of the moment and it had been great. Better than great. Fabulous.
She listened to Jackson’s heart beat against her ear, rode his chest up and down with his ragged breaths. She knew she had to say something, not let Jackson’s silence rule this time—
“You’re right,” he said, surprising her, his voice hoarse. “We are good together.”
&n
bsp; She smiled, lifted her head to rest her chin on her fist. “We can do this, Jackson.”
“You think?” The hope in his face delighted her.
“Yes, we can.” The glory of what had happened seemed to give her back her courage. “Just like I’m not giving up my new life yet.” She’d save her money a little longer. Maybe work a few more hours at the salon, give herself a chance.
“I have faith in you.”
Jackson believed in her. Hell, he’d loan her money if she got desperate. That made her feel entirely too relieved, but she focused on how much better she felt. She cuddled into Jackson and he hugged her tight. They breathed together for a few seconds, hearts slowly relaxing into a steady rhythm.
“So what all did your brothers send you, anyway?” Jackson mused. “I saw a microwave and a TV and wasn’t that a bread maker?”
She thought of their note. We’re proud of you. Even if we think you’re crazy. Her worrywart brothers wanted her to make it on her own. She couldn’t let them down, either. She pushed up to look at Jackson again, his eyes soft and full of affection. “Yep, but I’m sending it all back, along with the check.”
“You’re sending it back? Jeez. That was good stuff.”
“You already have a TV and a microwave, Jackson.”
“But the microwave’s old and dinky,” he wheedled.
“I can’t keep it. It comes with strings.”
“Seems to me it comes with love.”
“Loving strings are still strings. I’ll keep the backpack as a reasonable gift. They can get store credit on the rest or donate it to the Unitarian Church’s holiday bazaar.”
“Won’t they be hurt? Your brothers?”
“They know me. They’ll expect this.”
“Keep the check, Heidi. You could use it for tuition.”
“If I kept it, they’d know something was wrong. I bet when you left home, you didn’t take money from your parents.”
Jackson’s entire body stilled and emotions flew across his face. “As it turned out, I took every cent they had.” His self-mocking smile was full of pain.
