Tease Me

by Dawn Atkins

  But standing there under the alarmed stare of her earnest brothers, he’d felt like some creep who’d corrupted their sweet little sister and couldn’t have said a word if his life depended on it.

  HEIDI’S FACE FLAMED as she watched her brothers take in the living room decor. Twin sets of eyes roved from the Marilyn Monroe velvet painting to the bimbo poster, the nude in the pole lamp, the hula girl on the tiki bar and the pièce de résistance, the pink-nippled cocktail table.

  “Interesting,” Mark said, staring at it.

  She’d meant to ask Jackson if she could tone down the nudes, but she’d grown used to the campy art.

  Mike’s gaze shifted from the row of engines to her face. “So…is this Tina’s stuff?”

  “Jackson’s. We, uh, let him leave it here and he takes a bit off the rent. Plus, I kind of like the look. It’s…different.”

  The brothers looked at each, then at her, puzzled, not quite believing her.

  Why had she lied exactly? And why hadn’t she corrected Jackson, told her brothers that he was her boyfriend? Or at least her roommate?

  Because Jackson would seem like a liar? Partly. But mostly because, seen through her brothers’ eyes, the arrangement would seem tawdry, hasty, out of character, downright bizarre.

  There was so much about her life she had to explain to her brothers before she could discuss her relationship with Jackson. Hell, she wasn’t ready to discuss it with Jackson yet. And now the poor man was banging around in the bathroom pretending to fix the plumbing.

  She had to buy herself some time to figure out what to say. “How come you just popped by, anyway?”

  “I mentioned the Arizona mayors conference, didn’t I? On water quality?”

  “Maybe…” She had a vague memory of a comment.

  “And I decided to do some networking,” Mark added. “There’s some interest in developing Copper Corners as a retirement community, so I just thought I’d come along.”

  “To check on me, right?” They were both acting too sheepish for it to be as simple as they pretended.

  “We miss you, Bunny.” Mike’s eyes warmed. Mark’s, too, as he nodded. They stepped forward to hug her, one after the other. She was swamped with homesickness. She loved her brothers, missed their solid selves.

  “I miss you, too,” she said, forcing her words to come out lightly. “And I’ll be coming down in a couple of months. Thanksgiving, remember?”

  “You said Halloween,” Mark said. “I promised you’d judge the pumpkin carving contest.”

  “You have sounded strange over the phone,” Mike said, “Nervous and jumpy and right now your eyes are darting all over the place. What’s the matter, Heidi?”

  Everything. Getting caught. Jackson hiding. Seeing them again. The startling homesickness she felt. “You just surprised me. If I’d known you were coming, I’d have—” Not been making love on the sofa with my landlord. The thought of what her brothers had almost interrupted mortified her completely. She hardly recognized herself. “Let me make you some breakfast.”

  “We ate on the road. Coffee would be good. We thought we’d take you out to dinner tonight, if you’re free.”

  She was working tonight. At Moons. A strip club. The last place she wanted her brothers to know about. “I, um, have plans. How about brunch tomorrow?”

  “Plans? With Tina?” Mark asked hopefully.

  “Tina’s in California.” Which was true.

  “Is the woman ever in town?”

  “I like being on my own.”

  “So, you have a date tonight? Is it someone special?” Mike probed.

  “What’s with the third degree? Come into the kitchen and I’ll make some coffee. I have cinnamon bread.”

  “Mmm.” Mark rubbed his hands together. “Sounds great. We really miss your cooking.”

  She laughed and led them to the kitchen, where she busied herself putting the filter in the coffeemaker, her hands shaking, her mind racing. It was cowardly to keep lying to them. Should she just tell the truth? Jackson’s not just my landlord, guys. He’s also my roommate, my boss and my lover. It all started when the Outback got stolen.

  Yeah. Right.

  She would sound hopelessly unstable. She wanted her life all straightened out before she broke the news. From her brothers’ respectable viewpoint, she’d been living like a self-destructive runaway.

  She hadn’t thought past the moment in weeks. Doubt poured hotly through her. If they knew the truth, they’d never stop hassling her.

  She sliced hunks of cinnamon bread, slathered them with butter and popped the plate into the microwave, feeling her brothers’ eyes on her back, their worry heavy in the air.

  “So, how’s the salon?” Mark asked with false cheer. “You getting lots of new clients?”

  “Slowly, but surely,” she said, taking the bread from the microwave. Most of her work came from Moons and the discount she’d so readily offered was costing her a fortune in hair color, mousse, extension wax and other products.

  “And you’re starting school next semester?” He spoke too urgently.

  “That’s the plan.” She put the plate on the table. Though with all that was going on at Moons and with Jackson, she hadn’t thought much about it lately. “I have some textbooks to get a head start.” Which she’d barely cracked. Right now, Basic Psychology was propping a wobbly leg in the break room. “Everything is completely under control.”

  A horrible hissing sound made her turn. Coffee grounds and water slopped over the sides of the angrily steaming machine. She hadn’t gotten the filter fully in place. “For Pete’s sake.” She jumped up to fix it, rescuing enough coffee for two half mugs. She picked them up, then noticed the naked women on the sides, so she fished out two plain Moons mugs and transferred the drinks, hiding the bawdy ones in the sink. She carried the mugs to the table.

  Mark and Michael took big sips. “Mmm,” they said, then tried to hide the fact they had to pick coffee grounds off their tongues and lips.

  “Try the bread,” she said. “I made it with the bread maker you gave me.”

  “I picked that out for you.” Mark beamed.

  “The microwave was my idea.” Mike nodded at it.

  “I told him the TV was overkill,” Mark added. “Mmm. Bread’s great. Make some of this when you come down.”

  “We already had a TV set, but I appreciated all the gifts,” she said, not wanting to give the pair ammo for the who-knows-best brotherly competition.

  “And some pie, too?” Mike added. “Pumpkin for Thanksgiving?”

  “And peach,” Mark threw in. “Your peach is the best.”

  “Sure. Pumpkin, peach. Mincemeat if you want.” Her heart swelled with love. Her brothers were pretending it was baked goods they missed. “How’s Celia doing?” she asked.

  “She’s swamped,” Mark said.

  “But she wrote me about the new hairdresser.”

  “She’s good, but she’s not you,” Mike said with an indulgent smile. “That’s Celia’s real complaint. She misses you.”

  “Everybody does,” Mark added. “Every time I walk by the Cut ’n’ Curl someone pops out to ask when you’ll be back. For a visit, of course.” But he clearly hoped she’d return home.

  Her heart ached at how he was trying to hide it. It was nice to feel irreplaceable, but she’d established herself here. She was moving ahead, wasn’t she? She put a palm to her sternum to ease the cramp that seemed to close off her lungs.

  While her brothers ate her homemade bread and strained coffee grounds through their teeth, Heidi asked about everyone in town, listening to the stories with an odd melancholy.

  Her brothers seemed to be visiting from a faraway world, while she’d gotten trapped in a strange limbo, nowhere near where she’d intended to be. In college, on her own.

  Footsteps made her look up to find Jackson standing in the archway holding that ridiculous wrench, his Moons T-shirt splotched with water. “Got that all handled for you, Heidi,” he
said in a big, fake voice. “Hope I didn’t disrupt your visit.”

  “We’re grateful to you for keeping things in repair,” Mike said, holding out his hand to shake Jackson’s. “I’m Mike.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Mike. You can count on me,” Jackson said soberly. “Your sister needs anything, I’m there.”

  “We appreciate that,” Mark said, shaking his hand, too. “We sure don’t want to have to worry about whether Heidi’s got hot water for the shower or decent air-conditioning.”

  She bristled, listening to them talk about her as if she were an unaccompanied minor being handed off to a flight attendant. “Guys, I’m fine. Really.” She tried to laugh.

  “Would you like some coffee?” Mark asked Jackson. “Or some bread. Heidi does the best baking.”

  “I know—” He caught himself. “Uh, she lets me sample her…stuff.”

  An idea too racy to contemplate explaining. “Help yourself,” she said to him.

  He grabbed a slice of bread and she felt him start to sit, then catch himself. “I’d better get going.” He lifted the wrench. “Drips await. Nice meeting you both.” He didn’t even look at her, just hustled off.

  “Friendly guy,” Mark said, leaving the words hanging in the air. Did he hit on you? Do we need to put him in his place?

  She sighed, so confused about what she wanted to say, should say, and what her brothers could handle. “Jackson is a great landlord,” she said finally. “A nice guy who helps everyone he knows.” He’d been helping her like crazy. With a place to live, a job, another job, with sex—lots of that—and now with her brothers.

  Tell them the story. Tell them about Jackson. But what exactly was there to tell? Was this love? Could it last? And why had Jackson lied in the first place? Maybe he was as uncertain as she was. She had to talk to him before she talked to her brothers. Maybe at brunch she’d spill it all. Or maybe she’d hold off. By Halloween she’d have more to report. Or maybe this would all be over and done with.

  JACKSON TOOK OFF, wrench in hand, completely shaken. Meeting Heidi’s brothers, seeing how concerned they were about her had flipped him out. Had he taken advantage of her innocence, exploited her curiosity? Been the big, bad wolf Autumn had hinted he was being?

  He loved her. He wanted her to stay. But that didn’t mean he was good for her. Seeing her through her brothers’ eyes made him wonder. He should talk to her about this…soon.

  Or let it drop and hope it all went away, along with her brothers. He had practice and Heidi was due at the salon. He called her cell a couple of times, and was almost relieved when she didn’t answer. Which wasn’t a good sign. He didn’t want anything to rock this boat they were gently floating in. He didn’t want to answer any of the big questions.

  Practice required every ounce of his attention, since Heather was moody and expected to be catered to, his two friends kept saying whatever instead of declaring what they wanted, and the drummer had to be cajoled to stick it out the entire session.

  For three hours, Jackson tiptoed around personalities, guessed at interests and cobbled moods and motivation together. Focusing on the music helped and somehow they worked up a strong playlist for the gigs Jackson hoped to score this week. The sound was hot, the vibe good, and he saw big possibilities if he handled things right.

  Brain-dead from the effort, he returned to the town house, dread in his heart. What was he going to say to Heidi? If only they could forget about her brothers’ visit. He needed her opinion about how he’d handled the touchy aspects of practice, but she’d probably want to hash out what had happened with her brothers and what it meant. He was relieved she wasn’t home yet.

  When he finally heard her key in the lock it was almost time to head to work at Moons.

  She entered and plopped the backpack her brothers had given her heavily on the table. “I was studying,” she said, but she didn’t sound happy about it. “Or at least trying to. I’m in over my head. Out of the study mindset.” She looked up at him. “How are you? How was practice?”

  “Okay. Complicated. But we still have a band.”

  They looked at each other, not saying a million things. Finally they spoke at once.

  “Did your brothers—?”

  “Why did you lie—?”

  “You go ahead,” he insisted.

  “Why did you lie to my brothers at the door?” she asked, blinking up at him. “Tell them you were just my landlord?”

  “Because it was awkward. We were just…you know…doing it.”

  “Yeah,” she said, not blaming him at all. “But why didn’t I just say that we live together, that we…that you and I…that we’re…seeing each other?” She looked troubled and confused.

  Because you were ashamed. The thought rolled through him like a bowling ball, knocking down all his pins. Hell, he’d been ashamed for her. “Because you were in shock,” he said.

  She frowned, nodding slowly. “It’s that they don’t know anything about my life. And it just seemed like so much to tell. At once, right?” She was trying to convince herself.

  “Sure,” he said.

  “They’re taking me to brunch tomorrow. Maybe I’ll tell them then.”

  “Or you could wait,” he said abruptly. “Why upset them? Before everything’s straightened out…in your life, I mean.”

  “No. I should tell them. We’re together, right? Aren’t we, Jackson?” She stepped toward him, moved into his arms and he buried his nose in her sweet hair.

  “Yeah,” he said, never wanting to let her go. “We’re together. Want me to come with you? Talk to them for you?”

  She leaned back and looked up at him. “No. It’s up to me. Maybe I’ll tell them about the Outback being stolen, too.” She chewed on her lip, nervous as hell. She looked exactly like the uncertain girl who’d stood on his doorstep expecting to move into his town house a month ago.

  “If you want me to come, too, just let me know.”

  “It’s my problem. I’ll handle it.”

  But what exactly would she tell them about him? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

  Heidi rushed to change for work and they set off like usual, except for an odd tension in the air—like a note held too long and too high.

  They talked about the MoonDanz practice—she had suggestions for smoothing the rough edges on the band’s personalities—and about the night ahead. Taylor was going to cover for Jackson for a couple hours while he accompanied the band to an audition.

  It could have been the jabber of any other night, but there was a whole separate conversation going on. What are we doing? Are we really together? God, he hoped so. When he thought about not being with Heidi, the old gloom whistled through him like a leaky window in winter.

  When they got to Moons, he noticed Stan was deep in conversation with Dupree and a couple of his shady buddies, which raised the hair on the back of Jackson’s neck. Something fishy going on there. He’d look into it after he got back from the audition later tonight.

  By opening time, Jackson was standing at the hostess stand, supposedly greeting customers, but really keeping an eye on Heidi as she flew by. She wore her new clothes—the sexy leotard and rip-away skirt she’d stripped out of for him—but he had fond feelings for the homeless outfit.

  She was such a wonder to him. And she made him so happy. He wanted her in his life. Determination rose, building heat like an engine testing high idle. They needed more time. He’d grab her on her break, take her out back and tell her he loved her, that he wanted to make it work with her. Sure.

  “Jackson? Is that you?” The puzzled male voice made him turn toward the entrance, where he saw, to his horror, Heidi’s brother Mark, standing with Mike among a group of men wearing name tags. They were huddled around the hostess stand. His heart slammed into his chest and nausea rose. What the hell were they doing here?

  “Hey,” he said, forcing a smile, “Mike and Mark, right? What’s up?”

  “We were all headed for dinner—a bunch of us
from the mayors’ conference—and I recognized the sign from your shirt.” He pointed at Jackson’s Moons T-shirt. “We figured if you liked the place enough to buy a shirt, it must be good.”

  “Ah, well, this is a bar, not a restaurant. And I’m the manager.” He had to get them away from here before they realized where they were or caught sight of Heidi. “There’s a great Thai place up the street. And, let’s see, good Greek food on Seventh Avenue. Not to mention pasta to die for at—”

  “Wow.” Mark’s eyes went wide.

  Jackson turned to see a dancer stroll by in a tiger-striped leotard.

  “Hey, is this a—a—?” Mark started.

  “A strip club!” said a third man, one of their group, evidently, since he wore the same name tag. “You guys are pretty dialed in for being from out of town,” he said to Mike, who just stared, wide-eyed.

  “This is a strip club?” Mark asked Jackson.

  “Yeah, so, uh, you probably don’t want to come in.”

  “No, we don’t.” Mike turned for the door.

  “Hell, we’ll eat after. This is great,” said the third guy. “There’s even a show.” He slapped down the cover, the rest of the party lining up behind him.

  “I think we’ll pass,” Mike said to the guy.

  “Come on. Be a man, not a mayor. Two more.” He plunked down cover for the Fields brothers. They looked at each other, Mark shrugged, and they let themselves be swept inside on the wave of social pressure and testosterone.

  Jackson led them to tables far in the back, out of sight of Heidi’s section.

  “This isn’t our thing, you know,” Mike said to Jackson, obviously embarrassed. “For God’s sake, don’t tell Heidi.”

  He grimaced, unable to say a word.

  “So…you manage this place?” Mark asked, seeming more intrigued than his brother. “Must be interesting.” He looked around, red-faced, trying to act cool, but clearly shocked.

  “It pays the bills,” Jackson said.