“Has he hit you before?” Jeremy asked, throwing caution to the wind.
“No. He’s not like that—please don’t think my dad is like that. He’s sorry. We’re all sorry.” There was a pause. “He wants me to marry somebody with money. He’s worried I won’t get out of this place if I don’t and he’s probably right. I’ve disappointed him. He just wants a better life for me.”
“How are you supposed to marry money living in Mandrake Falls? No one here has money.”
“I know, right? I’ve told him! He doesn’t listen. He rejects every decent guy because they have no money.”
Norm believed his daughter had the right to marry rich. He had drilled this into Jocelyn every day of her life. It was he who encouraged her to make friends with girls who were richer than she was so she was known to a better class of people. She partied with them, skied with them, met their brothers, their cousins, their creepy uncles—and she was lonely every minute of the time. When Jocelyn graduated from high school and didn’t go on to the same colleges as her friends did, the friendships dropped off.
Norman Tate was a snob, Jocelyn decided in that moment. He was wrong to focus on the net worth of the guys she went out with instead of their character. He was just as frightened and desperate as his neighbors who were living paycheck to paycheck. Norm was her father and she loved him but she couldn’t play the game anymore. She was twenty-two and tired of putting herself on the market like a fresh vegetable.
“Joce, it’s clear what Norm wants but what do you want?”
Jocelyn sat back on her heels and didn’t answer for a long time. Jeremy forced himself to keep working on the pipe fitting as though his very life didn’t hang in the balance.
“I used to know,” she said, “and then this stupid engagement notice came out. I used to know exactly what I wanted. I wanted to marry money.”
“And now?”
The wrench was in his hand. He couldn’t move a muscle until she answered. His upper lip was dewy with sweat.
“Now, I—I want to feel good about myself for a change. I want to have days like this, fixing this place up, and buying seeds and talking to the neighbors in the hardware store. Not always working an angle. I want a normal life—whatever that means. I want to be happy.”
Jeremy exhaled and made a final twist of the wrench. He pushed out from under the sink.
“All finished. What time is it?”
“Five o’clock. Why?”
“Quitting time. Come on, Joce. I could use a drink.”
“Jeremy, we have no money. We blew the baby product money on the plumbing stuff and the seed packets you put on your credit card. I’m not whining, believe me. I’ll be so excited to do dishes in the sink without flooding the place.”
She moved to her pantry cupboard and opened it. Glass jars lined the shelves in neat colorful rows. “I’ll make us dinner. How about pasta with basil and tomato sauce? No wine or beer though. That’s the only thing missing.”
Jeremy’s jaw dropped open. Jocelyn Tate had the looks of a Vogue model and the sensibility of his grandmother. She put up preserves, preferred gardening to clubbing and thought fixing the plumbing was a good day. If he wasn’t in love with her before, there was no turning back now. “You’re like a hot Martha Stewart. Where did all of this come from?”
She looked pleased. “I preserve whatever is left in the garden after making my products and I live on them all winter. My dream is to do what Martha Stewart did, only for people without much money.” Her mouth twisted. “Ironic, I know. But actually, I believe life can be fabulous on less. My mom used to make something out of nothing.”
“I could see you doing that—in fact, you are doing that.”
“I suppose.” She shrugged but her eyes looked hopeful. “It scares me that maybe I’ll do it so well I’ll wind up being poor for the rest of my life.”
Jeremy set the wrench down on the counter and took charge. “Not tonight. Tonight we splurge. We both could use a break after the day we’ve had. I have some birthday money from my Aunt Gloria I was saving for a rainy day. We’ll use that.”
“Birthday money? What are you, nine?” Jocelyn threw him a half-grin.
“To Aunt Gloria, I am. She’ll be amazed to hear I spent the money on an actual girl instead of on—”
“Stop! Don’t say another word. I don’t need to know about your sexual kinks.”
“I was going to say video games. I told you—she thinks I’m nine. So, are you coming or what?”
Jocelyn paused in the hall, chewing her lip. “I don’t know, Jeremy. I don’t feel up to facing people after what happened with my dad.”
He stepped toward her, wanting to put his arms around her but instinct told him Jocelyn needed a friend more than she needed another guy hitting on her. Not that he would be hitting on her, but Jocelyn Tate didn’t trust many people. She wouldn’t take affection very well right now. It was strange that they could be so different and yet Jeremy knew her like he knew his own skin. If it were him, he’d want a friend now too.
“There’s a place outside of town that’s quiet on Monday nights. No one will know us there. You’re with me. I’m not going to let anything bad happen.”
She ducked her head and then peered up at him. “All right, if you say so. Am I dressed okay or should I change?”
Jeremy looked her over. Jocelyn was wearing a pale green turtleneck sweater that appeared to be made of cobwebs, it was so fine. Her nipples, budded with cold, protruded under the fabric. Jeremy responded like any male would under the circumstances. His blood raced to his crotch and he lost the ability to speak. She was wearing tight white jeans that fitted her buttocks like a second skin. She was dazzling.
He found his voice. “You look great. But bring a jacket. It’s cold.”
Jocelyn pulled on a worn jean jacket and followed him out, locking the door behind her.
♥
RYAN MCINTYRE rolled on the balls of his feet and watched the front entrance of the Beauty Box across the street. The door opened and Darlene emerged talking while handling a thick set of keys. Paula was behind her in the blue raincoat. She glanced over her shoulder as Darlene chatted on, her eyes scanning the town green.
Ryan took a stealthy step to his left and was concealed behind a thick maple tree. His new shoes were wet with mud. The spring sun was thawing the earth faster than the water could be absorbed. The grass was a soggy sponge of yellow-green turf.
Darlene made an enquiry of Paula that Ryan couldn’t hear. Paula shook her head and indicated over her shoulder that she was going the other way. Darlene nodded and with a wave, walked in the direction of her car. Paula remained, irresolute, but turned to face the town green where she expected to see Ryan McIntyre.
He held his breath and counted to ten. This could end right now, right here. He would not show up, she would be angry and he would be charmingly insincere the next time he saw her.
Paula glanced at the thin gold band on her wrist. A girl who still wore a watch. She was too young to be so old.
What he had to make clear to his love-addled brain was that Paula Dunlop was a nice girl but not for him. She’d be happier with one of the mechanics at Hank’s Auto Body or even one of his brother’s deputies in the Sheriff’s Office. McIntyre Construction was in the news thanks to the innovative changes Ryan had made to the Millennium Mall development. He was leveraging that success into more development deals which meant dinners, meetings and social events with business clients. Plans were in the works to build a timber frame and stone mansion on a forty acre parcel of land he’d recently acquired. A girl like Paula Dunlop didn’t fit into that life. She would be completely out of her depth.
Everything he’d worked for was finally happening. This thing with Paula was a complication he couldn’t afford. Ryan wished the world was different or he was—but this was the kinder thing in the long run. Better for both of them.
Ryan took a breath and held it. The girl in the blue raincoat scanned the si
dewalk, the shoppers and the cars that drove by for a sign of her date. And then Paula Dunlop lifted her shoulders and let them drop in one swift graceful movement that cut him to the quick. She turned slowly in the direction of her home and walked away. Ryan watched her go, feeling lonelier than he’d ever felt in his life. He didn’t think after his mother died he could ever feel this lonely again. The sparkle and fizz he’d felt all day thinking about seeing her sputtered and was snuffed out.
He was an asshole. Standing her up wasn’t him being noble—this was his ambition getting between him and real happiness. Again.
He turned from the sight of her small slim form moving further and further away and leaned against the tree. A sprinkle of rain fell on his face from a cloudless sky. Even nature was annoyed with him. Maybe he could call her later and make some excuse. Maybe he could go around to her apartment tonight and they could talk.
Maybe a lot of things could happen. But somehow Ryan knew nothing would.
♥
THE RESTAURANT was a steak and seafood place, one of those holdovers from the 1950’s with red-shaded table lamps, dark wood, white linen, and heavy on the atmosphere.
Jocelyn slid into a red leather upholstered booth. “This looks expensive,” she whispered. The menu was gold-embossed (also in red leather) and ran to seven pages. Cocktails called Grasshoppers, Fuzzy Navels, Manhattans and Rusty Nails were pictured in lurid Technicolor on separate menu. She wondered if they served her usual, Coors Light.
Jeremy frowned over the selections. “We’re going to break into the rainy day fund for this. Money is not going to stop us. I’m having Surf ‘n Turf and a martini. How about you?”
“My rainy day fund will buy me a beer. Maybe it’ll come with peanuts. I told you I’m broke. And contrary to popular opinion—I don’t let guys pay my way.”
“Good to know.” Jeremy grinned. “However, according to Mandrake Falls’ newspaper of record, we’re engaged, so will you let your fiancé buy you a meal? You can always break off our engagement tomorrow.”
“I’m trying to do the right thing for once and you won’t let me. I’m not going to use you and abuse you, Jeremy. I actually like you, quite a bit, and I—I want you to like me.”
“I do like you. You know I like you.”
“No—not that way.” Jocelyn struggled to find the words. “I want you to like me not because I’m pretty and you want to sleep with me, but because you feel good being with me.”
His brown eyes met hers in the glow of the table lamp. “Is that how you like me?”
“Yes.”
“You feel good being with me.” His voice was flat.
“Yes. Is that so hard to believe?” She laughed. “And it’s not because you buy me dinner or fix my plumbing or worship the ground I walk on. I like you because I feel good when I’m with you. Do you feel good when you’re with me?” She fiddled with her napkin and avoided his eyes.
He ducked his head and seemed to want to avoid her eyes too.
“Honestly? Not always. Sometimes I do, but usually I feel like crap. I can’t help how I feel about you, Jocelyn—I swear it’s like being in prison sometimes. One of us is bound to be happier than the other because one feels more and is willing to endure more for the other. I don’t want you to make me feel good. I want you to love me.”
“You don’t want me to love you,” she muttered impatiently. “You want me to sleep with you. There’s a difference.”
The waiter came and took their order with all the pomp and gravitas one would expect in a five star establishment. Jeremy and Jocelyn respectfully listened to the list of specials which neither of them would order. The restaurant was nearly empty. It was hard to believe the chef had so many dishes to offer at this time of year when tourism was at its lowest.
Jeremy ordered for both of them, two shrimp cocktail appetizers, two steak and lobster tail dinners and two martinis. He would look over the wine list and order after they’d had their cocktails.
As soon as the waiter left, Jeremy jumped all over her last remark.
“I’m not Hudson Grace and I’m not Ryan McIntyre. You are not just another co-ed to me. I would give my left testicle if you looked at me the way you look at those guys—but you know what? I don’t give a shit anymore. I’m glad some idiot put that ad in the paper because it gave me the chance to tell you I love you. I don’t know why I do. You’re not my type. Except, yes—you’re beautiful. And yes, I’m sexually attracted to you. But if that’s all there was to it, I would’ve got over you by now. I think about you all the time. I look for you everywhere I go. You don’t know a thing about me if you think sex is all I want from you.”
“I know everything about you.” Her eyes narrowed to sapphire slits in the low light. “You think it’s just been you watching me? I’ve been watching you too, buddy, and I know sex is what you really want. If I fell in love with you, you’d run like hell.”
“If you fell in love with me I’d be too busy sobbing with gratitude to run.”
“Care to bet on it?”
The waiter arrived with the martinis. Jeremy waited, his blood pumping, his nerves jangling as the drinks were set in front of them.
“What are you talking about?” he asked as soon as they were alone again.
“I’m talking about putting your so-called love to the test. After dinner, we’ll go back to your place. I’ll sleep with you and I bet you stop thinking about me in less than a week. You’re horny—not in love.”
His grin felt tight. He was trying to be casually disinterested in her offer. He was also trying to be a decent guy and not take advantage of her emotional vulnerability right now. He was trying to be many things when all he really wanted was to be in bed with her.
The shrimp cocktails arrived. Jocelyn calmly picked up her shrimp fork and tucked in just as if nothing had happened.
“Hey, this is good,” she said cheerfully. “Try yours. I believe this place is one of those undiscovered gems of Vermont I’m always reading about.” She smiled at him conspiratorially. “Let’s not tell anyone about it. It’ll be our place. It’s very mysterious and noir isn’t it? It looks like a mobster hangout.”
Jeremy barely heard a word she said. His brain had stopped functioning after she said she’d sleep with him tonight. His tongued clacked against the roof of his mouth. His heart was thudding in his chest. Jeremy stared down at the shrimp, wondering what possessed him to order so much food. If he took her up on her challenge, Jocelyn would be coming back to his place tonight. Every fantasy he ever had for the past two years would come true in one night.
It was too much pressure.
He picked up the martini and took a big swallow to steady him. The vodka went straight to his central nervous system.
Jocelyn cocked her head to one side. “Are you okay? You look a little flushed. Are you sure you’re not too hot in that sweater?”
“I’m fine.”
“Here.” She passed him her martini. “You might as well have mine too and I’ll be the designated driver tonight.”
He nodded and picked up his fork and managed to shovel a couple of shrimp into his mouth. What happened to the guy who was in charge? How did she managed to change the dynamics between them so that it was him, once again, left floundering and confused? All the command he had when they arrived at the restaurant was gone. Maybe she was right and he wasn’t in love with her. He just wanted to sleep with her. Hormones. Chemistry.
There was only one way to find out.
“It’s okay,” she said. Jocelyn was digging to the bottom of the shrimp cup like it was her last meal. “I’m scared too.”
“What?” Now he was genuinely terrified. She was reading his mind on top of everything else. Jocelyn had the most succulent mouth he’d ever seen on a woman. She was sucking the sauce off the fork and it was killing him to watch.
“I’m scared of spending the night with you too.”
“Why would you be scared? You’re you.”
She la
ughed. “That’s what scares me. You see a blonde confident girl—I’m a wreck of nerves and self-doubt most of the time. You see, Jeremy, if my theory is correct you won’t like me so much after tonight and I’ll miss being adored.”
He nodded his understanding, but wouldn’t confirm or deny the constancy of his feelings or even that he had agreed to her offer. He knew his own mind but it wasn’t his mind that was in conflict. It was hers.
The realization made Jeremy perk up. Jocelyn was the one who was scared. It was her feelings she didn’t understand! She’d spent almost the whole day with a man who really loved her and she didn’t want it to end. Hence, the offer to sleep with him. Jocelyn wasn’t afraid of losing his love—Jocelyn was afraid she was falling in love with him.
Jeremy was on the brink of having everything he ever wanted coming true.
Jocelyn reached across the table and took his hand. She had a small puzzled frown on her face. He wondered if she was feeling any of the terror and excitement he was feeling.
“Maybe you should kiss me to lessen the tension.”
“Tension?”
“The sexual tension. Can’t you feel it? I feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin.”
He looked skeptical. “That sounds like something you’d say to the guys you’ve dated. We’ve got to have a rule if this is going to work. For the sake of the purity of the experiment, you can’t say or do anything to win me over. You have to be totally yourself even if you think I’m not going to like it. Otherwise, we can’t know for sure if I really love you or if I just love the image of you.”
“All right. I’ll be straight with you and you’ll be straight with me, which means when this crush of yours crashes and burns you’ll be honest about it. No mixed signals, no stringing me along. The second you want to ‘explore your options’—” Jocelyn made air quotes with her fingers, “you have to concede defeat and I win.”
Love Rising: Spring (Mandrake Falls Series Romance Book 4) Page 8
