by Kim Law
Len’s teeth flashed white. “That so? How about we test your limits, then? What do you say, should we give Little Red a rest with Heather, and you and I take a spin?”
Doug groaned before Jill could reply, and everyone at the table laughed.
“Just stop it,” Doug begged. “You know I hate that name.”
Heather had accidentally given away their secret earlier in the evening, and as suspected, Doug hadn’t been pleased. It was also apparently not the first time he’d been called that. Nor had Len fallen on the side of empathetic with the man. Instead, he’d spent a large portion of the evening egging it on.
“No to your offer, Len. Thank you very much.” Jill turned back to Doug. “And how about if everyone at the table”—she shot Len a hard look—“stops calling you that, and in return, you don’t try to talk me back out into the middle of that chaos.” Jill nodded to the dance floor. The four of them had spent a lot of time out there tonight, and though Jill had just “gone with it” as Heather had coached her to before they’d shown up, she’d had her fill.
“Not even one more?” Doug angled his puppy dog eyes at her, and she couldn’t help but laugh. The boy was cute.
“You’re a troublemaker, Doug Caldwell.”
“But I’m worth it.” He waggled his brows at her.
She supposed he might be for some women, but though he was fun and she was actually having a good time, he wasn’t exactly her cup of tea. First, he really was too young for her—she suspected he’d also figured that out. But also . . .
She pulled her glass of diet soda closer and cut a glance to the man who was her cup of tea. And as had been the case for most of the night, Cal’s gaze was on her.
His mouth shifted, and she thought he was about to mouth something to her across the crowded bar, but Loretta from the diner landed in his lap before Jill could find out what he might have to say.
Jill looked away.
However, a few minutes later, she found herself seeking him out again, and this time when their gazes connected, he made a quick motion with his head. He was asking her to meet him by the restrooms.
Loretta was nowhere to be found. Nor was Marci. Or any other woman.
But that didn’t mean she should step away with him just because he asked.
She gave an equally quick negative response, and he volleyed with a pleading look.
She shook her head again, but this time his lips curved, and she felt that charm his family was so proud of being directed her way. Then he motioned with his head once more.
Damn him. She wanted to go.
Glancing at her date, she listened as Doug recounted a story about “the good ole days” with a buddy of his. His friend had shown up a few minutes earlier, dragging a chair over to Doug’s end of the booth, and he and Doug had been engrossed in conversation since. Heather and Len were still involved in the conversation they’d been having for the last few minutes, as well, and Jill found herself once again turning to Cal. And once more, he grinned. He knew he had her.
And she knew he was right.
“Excuse me,” she said before she changed her mind. She stood, and Heather quickly looked up.
“Want me to go, too?” She set her drink on the table.
“No,” Jill answered, the single word stopping Heather in midscoot across the bench, and without intending to, Jill flicked a glance to the other side of the bar. Where Cal’s seat was now empty.
Her foster sister caught on fast, and straightened on the seat. She also asked a question without speaking.
Really?
Jill lifted one shoulder, almost apologetically. Heather and Trenton had picked up on Jill’s modified attitude around Cal over the last few days, but Jill had produced little explanation for it. She hadn’t told them about the walk to the park, nor about the conversation concerning Cal’s dad. That one was something just between the two of them, anyway. It always had been.
But she had told them about going over and listening to music with Mrs. Wainwright.
Heather had been seriously jealous.
“I won’t be long,” Jill told her.
Heather nodded, her brow just the tiniest bit furrowed. “Let me know if you need me.”
Len speared Jill with a look before she could turn away, and she could read in his eyes that he, too, understood where she was headed. He’d been there when she and Cal had come out of the park together, after all. And though he’d told neither Heather nor Trenton about that evening—nor had he commented on the shift in Jill’s behavior toward Cal—she’d been aware that he’d picked up on it, as well. It was hard to spend that much time in such close proximity to another person and not start to think along the same wavelength.
“Why do women always need other women to go to the bathroom with them?” he teased now, proving himself an even better guy than Jill had thought. “What do they do in there, anyway?”
Jill chuckled under her breath and sent the man a look of thanks for not pointing out her traitorous behavior. “All kinds of things, Len. But don’t worry, I won’t take your date away from you. I can handle it all by myself tonight.”
Doug glanced up from his conversation before she walked away, tossing Jill a quick smile, and she almost felt bad for slipping off. He was an attentive date, even if he had already figured out that what he’d hoped would happen tonight would not be happening.
She made it to the hallway where the restrooms were located, expecting to find Cal waiting there, but the hallway was empty.
Turning to look back the way she’d come, she saw only the packed crowd on the dance floor and servers weaving their way through with more drinks. No Cal. She frowned and stood on tiptoe, then she lost her balance when warm fingers wrapped around her wrist from behind and tugged. She stumbled through the open outside door, almost landing against Cal, but caught herself just short of being plastered to the man.
The door closed with a thud behind them, and they were alone.
“Cal.” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Jill,” he mocked. Then he grinned at her, and she forgot whatever she’d been intending to say. The man could ooze charm without a single word.
She sighed. “Why did you just pull me outside?”
“Because it’s too damned loud in there to be heard.”
“And what is it that you wanted to make sure I heard?”
She thought she might be flirting with him, but she wasn’t sure. She pretended she wasn’t, though. Just to be safe. Because that likely wouldn’t be wise.
Also, because he had a girlfriend.
“I wanted to know if you’re still mad at me,” he told her.
“About what?”
His eyes grew darker, and the corners of his mouth turned up. “So there’s no more anger?”
No more . . .
What was he talking about?
And then she got it, and she blushed as hot as her date was prone to do. They couldn’t have sex if they were still angry with one another. That had been their long-ago rule. She stared over his shoulder, her gaze locking onto a twenty-year-old two-tone Ford sitting in the back parking lot, and silently commanded her mouth to produce a frown. “Of course I’m still angry.”
He leaned to his left and put his face in front of hers. “Are you sure about that?”
She didn’t know what to think or what to say. Because she’d completely forgotten to be mad at him tonight. She’d forgotten for a few days now. Even though she’d assured him while they’d been in the park that she’d bring it back out.
Refusing to give in to his teasing, she propped her hands on her hips and cocked her head at him. “You did see that I’m on a date tonight, right?”
“Oh, I saw that.”
She didn’t ask why he wasn’t on one. “Then you can understand why I need to get back.”
“Nope. Because you shouldn’t be on a date.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant by that.
“You’re fraternizing with the compet
ition,” he explained. “I haven’t decided if you’re trying to get info out of my boy, or if I should give him a raise for trying to get info out of you.”
She caught the way he stressed the word “boy” and suspected the man’s ego was at play.
Was he jealous at seeing her out with another man?
And if he was jealous, what did she think about that?
She decided to delve into that question later, and returned to the conversation at hand. She smirked. “No info is exchanging hands.”
He leaned in and put his mouth next to her ear. “Maybe nothing should be exchanged.”
A tiny trickle raced down the back of her neck.
“Plus . . .” He retreated before she could get used to the warmth of his breath. Then his dark eyes flashed a fast up-and-down over the front of her. “He’s too young for you.”
She got offended as quickly as she’d almost been turned on. “And how old is Marci? And come to think of it, where is Marci?”
Cal gave no hint as to where his girlfriend might be, so she put her hands to his chest and shoved. He needed to take his charming self back inside with the boys. But he didn’t budge. “I do need to get back to my date,” she told him. “He’s quite the charmer.” She then gave him a matching up-and-down, same as he’d done to her. “I suspect he’s pretty good at other things, too. What with so much youth and all.”
Without waiting for a reply, she opened the door and left Cal standing outside alone.
Chapter Twelve
“Occasionally wine should flow free. But make sure you’re with trustworthy friends when it does.”
—Blu Johnson, life lesson #81
Jill rolled to her back and wiped at the gunk in the corners of her eyes, but she refused to actually open them. She could tell the sun had come up, without needing to look for verification, and she’d decided sometime during the night that she didn’t intend to adult today.
She and Heather had left their dates at the bar the night before, and when Jill had brought Heather home, instead of simply dropping her off, she’d come inside. The next thing she’d known, they’d been two glasses deep into their third bottle of wine, and neither of them had been looking for a way out. They’d touched on several topics before stumbling to their beds, but the one to leave the sharpest sting had been Jill’s mother.
For some reason, Jill had claimed to understand her mother.
Yet Jill had never understood her mother. The woman had been focused on one thing, and one thing only, her whole life. And that had been to have a man. She’d think she’d have one, swear he was the man of her dreams . . . and then something would happen and he’d leave her.
And Jill knew why it happened. Even back then. Her mother had been too needy.
But last night, in a very inebriated state, Jill had confessed to Heather that she finally understood what having that kind of need was like. Because apparently, she’d felt needy herself.
The very idea terrified her.
She also remembered admitting to being lonely, and to hoping that Doug would have turned out to be her type. As if she had a type. Yet there she’d sat, spouting out things to one of her best friends in the world that she’d had no clue she’d been thinking. And with each confession, she’d become a little more unclear about who she even was.
She didn’t want to date, did she?
And lonely? Since when?
But she was tired of being angry. She’d tossed that nugget out, too. And she didn’t regret saying that one. It was time to find a way beyond the anger.
She rolled back to her side and decided that if she stayed in bed long enough, Heather would leave for her yoga class, and then she could sneak out without having to face her foster sister just yet. Some days were better spent alone.
Only, the sheets rustled at her feet.
So much for avoidance. She kept her eyes firmly closed and her nose buried in the covers. Heather was always perky early in the morning, too much wine or not. She probably thought she could talk Jill into going to yoga with her.
“Go away,” Jill grumped. “I’m still asleep.”
Heather didn’t answer.
“I mean it, Heather.” She’d pried her eyelids open. “I don’t want to—”
That wasn’t her foster sister staring back at her. It was Cal!
In the next instant, Jill pushed up toward the headboard. But the second she was fully upright, she yelped and crumpled back to the mattress. She clamped both hands over her head. “Oooohhhh,” she moaned. “Crap. Why did I do that?”
“What did you do, exactly?” Cal’s deep baritone seemed to rattle inside her skull.
“Close the blinds.” She flapped a hand toward the window behind him while keeping the fingers of her other hand firmly clasped over her eyes. “And don’t talk so loud.”
The room dimmed into shadows . . . and then the bed dipped. Right beside her hip.
“Get out,” she growled. “Why are you here?”
Cal captured her free hand and placed something in her palm, and after snatching her hand away from him, Jill peeked out of one eye to see what it was. Ibuprofen. Four of them.
“Drink up,” he told her. He held a glass of water out to her.
She didn’t want to get up, much less drink up. But she hated wine headaches worse than she valued maintaining illogical stubbornness, so she grudgingly accepted the water. And though she slowly pushed herself back into a sitting position, she kept her eyes closed. She also turned her face away from him, as if doing so would negate the fact that the man was in her bed.
Once the pills were down, she blindly held out the glass, and when it disappeared from her hand, she reattacked the gunk in the corners of her eyes. Her head got stopped up anytime she drank too much wine, and aside from clogging her sinuses, her eyes also oozed grossness.
Why she ever did this to herself, she had no idea.
When she’d finished clearing the worst of it, she finally opened her eyes all the way, but she kept her chin tilted down.
“Better?” Cal asked.
“No.” She scowled up at him. “Why are you here? And how did you get in here?”
His stupid massive shoulders shrugged. “Heather let me in.”
She was going to kill her foster sister.
“And?” she asked.
“And what?”
“And why are you here? Why did she let you in?”
“She let me in because I asked her to.”
Jill groaned. The man could be as hardheaded as she was.
He put a hand to the bed and leaned in then, dipping the mattress even more, and Jill barely kept from tumbling into his lap. “And I’m here because I wanted to know something.”
His tone had softened, and Jill slowly blinked. “And what was that?”
“If you went home alone last night.”
It took a second for his words to register, but when they did, her anger spiked.
Seriously?
She pulled back, putting a couple of inches between them, then shot him her snottiest smirk. “In case you missed it, I didn’t even go home.”
Why in the world would Heather have let him into the house, much less into the bedroom? This was the very room where the two of them had first—
She snapped off her thoughts and adjusted her look to a glare.
Heather was fully aware of what had once happened in this room. Her foster sister was as good as dead.
Then Cal lowered his gaze, and it traveled along the rumpled sheets before lingering on the pillows. Jill held her breath, wondering if he remembered what had once gone on in there, too. The house had been deserted at the time, and the covers had been dusty from not being used for a while. But that hadn’t stopped them.
He brought his gaze back to hers. “So, did you?”
She couldn’t believe he had the nerve. “Do you see anyone in here with me?”
He lifted the covers and ducked his head to look under.
“Stop it.” She
smacked his hands.
“Well, how would I know for sure if I don’t look?”
“Get out, Cal.” She thrust her arm toward the door, but the quick motion sent a sharp stab of pain through her skull, and she once again grabbed for her head. “As you can see,” she gritted out, “no one is in here but me. Now leave.”
He didn’t leave. “I didn’t like watching you with another man last night.”
“Are you kidding me?” She gaped at him, eyes burning from the trickle of daylight making its way through the blinds. “I’ve watched you with other women for years.”
“I know. But I never have, and I didn’t like it.”
“I don’t care.”
“Did you go anywhere else before coming here? Was anyone here before you went to bed?”
“I cannot believe—”
His fingers snagged her chin and brought her face to his, and that’s when she finally saw the anger simmering just below the surface. “You didn’t show up at the house this morning.”
“That’s because I’m taking the day off.” She slid her gaze to the clock beside the bed, and realized that the sun had been up for hours. “And I was sleeping in,” she finished in a grumble.
Then it occurred to her that she probably looked just as bad as she felt and that her breath was no doubt atrocious.
And Cal still held her face right up next to his.
She jerked out of his grasp. “Nothing happened last night, okay? Or every other night of my life, if you’re so hard up to know.” She made a face at him. “And speaking of going home alone, I’m sure Marci wouldn’t appreciate knowing that you’re currently in my bed.”
“Marci broke up with me.”
That caught her off guard. “Really?” She wouldn’t have expected that.
But then she remembered Loretta sitting in Cal’s lap the night before. Loretta must have been aware of the breakup. Therefore, she was back and looking for action. And given her and Cal’s history . . .
“Did you go home with Loretta, then?”
He shook his head. “I went home alone. And I thought about you.”
“Stop it.”
“I’m just stating the facts.”
