Gnomeless

by Jennifer Zane

  Jack eyed me over his beer.

  “He doesn't really have a daughter, but since we look the same, he thinks he has two. Odd, but it makes sense to him.”

  The microwave dinged and I carefully put the mug on the counter. “Violet and I watch out for him, make sure he gets his mail and newspaper. Just stop by and talk with him. Another neighbor helps him with the snowblower and, in the summer, the yard work. He's the same one who loads his shotgun with bird seed. The Colonel takes him to the American Legion activities.”

  I opened the pack of cocoa, poured it into the hot milk and stirred.

  “It's a small town so we all help him out. He's really a sweet man,” I added, hoping Jack might think so, too.

  “When he's not shooting at you,” Jack grumbled.

  I picked up the mug and warmed my fingers. “Right, when he's not shooting at you.”

  “I'll come in through the back yard from now on. Recycling?” He waved the empty bottle in the air. I pointed to the plastic tub on the side of the fridge. “I'm going to bed.”

  Oh, right. Bed. “Um, there's only one bed.”

  “Couch?”

  I shook my head. “The living room's too small for a big one.”

  Jack smiled. “Miller, it looks like we're taking the term roommates to a whole new level.”

  I paused for a moment to calm the butterflies in my stomach. “Um, what?”

  He pushed off the counter leaving me standing there with a steaming cup of cocoa and a kick-started libido. “Do you sleep on the right or the left?” he called from the bedroom.

  I didn't need the drink for warmth anymore. I had a little bit of lust and a whole lot of anger taking care of that. Violet's bedroom was small, the double-sized bed taking up most of the space. It was ample enough for one person, but two....

  “What are you talking about? You're not sleeping in my bed.”

  Jack tossed the extra pillows I'd been leaning against onto the floor. He looked at me across the bed. “It's not yours, is it?”

  My mouth dropped open. “Um, no.” I wouldn't be caught dead with a man in my bedroom with a bright fuchsia comforter, turquoise flannel sheets and throw pillows in a weird Muppet-type fur.

  “We'll think of it as a hotel. There's no way I'm sleeping in a chair. It's too cold, and I'm too sober to sleep on the floor,” he said dryly.

  “You expect me to sleep in a chair?” I asked. No way, no how.

  “No. I expect you to control yourself and keep your hands off me.” He winked at me.

  My eyebrows went up to my hairline and I put my hands on my hips. “Control myself?” I sputtered.

  “Fine. We'll make a pillow wall between us.” He bent down to pick up the pillows he'd just tossed on the floor and built a pseudo wall down the middle of the bed. Jack eyed his handiwork, then clearly satisfied, grabbed his bag and headed into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

  I just stood there like a complete idiot. Frozen in place at the horror. I was going to sleep in a bed with Jack Reid. I was going to sleep in a bed with Jack Reid. Holy shit! My heart fluttered wildly at the thought. It had been a dream of mine and now it was going to happen. Right now!

  Then I sobered as if I was doused in cold water. There was a pillow berm in the middle of the bed. That wasn't in my fantasy. I realized my lusty thoughts weren't sleep in a bed with Jack Reid, it was sleep with Jack Reid. The difference between reality and my fantasy was that we were actually going to sleep. And the only time I was going to find myself beneath Jack's rock hard body was if someone was shooting at him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Light streamed through the gauzy curtains, waking me from a delicious sleep. I was warm and cozy, under a thick down comforter. My head rested on a hard chest, soft hairs tickling my chin. One of my arms was thrown over a flat, rigid stomach, my leg wedged between two of—

  I launched myself bolt upright when the intimacy of my situation dawned on me. Holding myself up on one hand, I looked down at the sleeping Jack. His chest was tan, dark, springy hair sprinkled across the middle and led down to his belly button, and from there in a happy trail that led to the edge of his boxers. Somehow, he wasn't covered with the comforter, nor the sheet, and I was able to look my fill.

  “So much for the pillow wall,” I mumbled.

  “If you'd wanted to lie on top of me all night, why did we build one in the first place?” he asked, his voice rough. So much for a sleeping Jack.

  My mouth fell open, and then I closed it with a click of my teeth. How dare he? As if I'd wanted to sleep on top of him! The annoying jerk. There was no answer to that question that would be in my favor. So, I took another tack.

  “Why do you have ducks on your boxers?” I closed my eyes, wishing myself anywhere but in bed with Jack. Had I just asked him about his underwear?

  Jack lazily opened his eyes, took in my most-likely crazy bed head, my pink tank top and flannel pajama bottoms. One finger snaked out and tugged gently at the elastic waistband of my pants.

  I swatted his hand away before he saw anything important.

  “Why don't you wear any underwear to bed?” he asked, his eyes on my breasts. I looked down. My nipples were hard and obscenely visible through the stretchy cotton. I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Oooh,” I squealed and climbed out of bed, grabbing clothes willy-nilly from the folded pile in the laundry basket, and stalked into the bathroom. I heard Jack chuckle before I slammed the door.

  An hour later, we were bundled up against the weather, Jack headed to his rental, me to the van. I turned over the engine and cranked the heat. Jack appeared in the window and I rolled it down.

  “Car won't start,” he said. He yanked on the collar of his jacket and pulled it up higher about his neck.

  “So?” I grumbled. I was so frustrated with him. He brought out the absolute worst in me, pushing every button I had to make me angry, annoyed, and horny. Damn the man for making me hot for him!

  Jack rolled his eyes. “So, give me a ride to my uncle's until it warms up enough for the rental to start.” Ten below was not good for cars left outside. More often than not, when it was this cold, they didn't start. Without a garage to keep a car warm, most Montanans had a block heater retrofitted onto their engines so they could be plugged in at night. It kept the engine warm enough to start, in any arctic climate. Jack's rental didn't have this kind of set-up.

  I sighed, and then nodded. “Fine, get in.”

  I rolled the window back up while Jack dashed around the hood, climbed in the passenger side. He picked up the gnome and placed it on his lap.

  “What's this?” he asked. Our breaths came out in fluffy white air about us. Jack smelled clean like Veronica's soap, but also something spicy and manly.

  “That's George the Gnome. Jane West's son, Zach, wants him to go to work with me.”

  Jack eyed the ceramic gnome, contemplated it. “Huh.”

  I put the van in gear and drove off. Little did Jack know we were both headed to the same place.

  “We're going to have to work on the sleeping arrangements,” Jack said, filling the silence between us. “I'm surprised you're throwing yourself at me like you are. You weren't interested in high school.”

  I swiveled my head to look at him. “What?” Had he slipped and hit his head again? “Throwing myself at you? What woman in their right mind wants to sleep with a complete jerk?”

  Jack crossed his arms over his chest with a rustle of nylon coat. “You were the one lying on top of me, sweetheart. If you want to sleep with me, just say so.”

  “That's it!” I shouted, looking in my rearview mirror before pulling off to the side of the road with a slam of the brakes. Tools in the back rattled around. I put the van in park and turned to look at him. “Let's get the air cleared now, shall we? Why should I,” I pointed myself, “want to sleep with someone who's already been with my sister? My identical twin sister. I'd think it would be been-there-done-that. Or do you just want to compare?”


  Jack's head jerked back as if I'd punched him in the face. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  I waved at the air between us. “You know, Reid, that time in high school when you slept with Violet?”

  “I never slept with Violet.” Jack's voice was flat and cold. “You sent Violet on your date with me.” It was Jack's turn to point. “You sent your sister as a trick,” he spat out the words. “Your identical twin sister because you didn't want to go out with me.”

  My mouth fell open. Nothing came out for a few seconds. “I never did that!”

  “Then who the hell did?” Jack's voice was as loud as mine in the confined space.

  The answer hit me like a ton of bricks, or a Triple Smacker paddle. “Violet. That little—”

  “Bitch,” Jack answered. The look on his face changed from anger to something else entirely. I wasn't sure what it was, but I knew he wasn't upset with me anymore. “Let's take a stroll down memory lane. I asked you out about a month before graduation. That was you, right?”

  I nodded at the memory. I'd been so happy, over the moon thrilled that a guy like Jack would be interested in me. “Yes. But the night before the date, Violet told me you asked me out by mistake, that it was her that you wanted to date. Not me.”

  “Violet?” He shook his head and looked as if he thought the very idea insane. “Hell, no. I wanted to go out with you. The girl in my science class, the one who always twisted her hair up in a pencil.”

  I smiled at that memory. “My hair always got in the way in Biology and Mr. Blonsky made me put it up so it wouldn't catch fire from the Bunsen burner. I'd forgotten about that.”

  Jack's eyes moved to my hair, most of it tucked up underneath my winter cap except for a braid, long down my neck. “I haven't. You wanted to go out with me. I wanted to go out with you. Violet got in the way.” His voice was much calmer now.

  “I thought you wanted Violet instead of me. My feelings were crushed when she told me,” I said, my voice soft. I remembered the horrible feeling, the rejection. A young girl truly devastated by her first crush.

  “The date was really weird.” He looked out the front windshield through the frozen ice and foggy glass. “You weren't acting anything like yourself. I didn't even want to kiss you. I'd dreamt of it all year long and when the time came, I didn't want to do it.”

  “You didn't sleep with her?” I crossed my mental fingers. I didn't sleep with anyone who'd been with Violet.

  “I didn't even kiss her.”

  I beamed, inside and out. The weight from the past ten years had been lifted. He hadn't wanted my sister instead of me. He'd wanted me.

  “You didn't change your mind and send your sister to mess with me.” It wasn't a question, but a statement. Jack's gaze moved to my mouth.

  I shook my head. “Never,” I whispered.

  He leaned toward me. I leaned toward him, closing the cold space between us. Our lips met, gently, tentatively as if not believing the moment was real. My eyelids drifted shut at the pleasure. Jack's mouth was incredibly soft against mine, his breath minty from toothpaste. He brushed his lips back and forth, ever so sweetly. It was like we were both savoring the moment. I'd longed for his kiss since I was sixteen. It was a surprise it was actually happening.

  “Miller,” Jack whispered. Now, the nickname sounded endearing.

  “What?” I whispered back.

  “This gnome is jabbed into my ribs,” he said, our breaths mingling.

  He pulled back from the kiss, lifted George out of his lap. The beady gaze, the snarky leer of the bearded little man was all but telling me to go for it before being placed on the floor out of sight. Turning back to me, Jack smiled, looked in my eyes. I hadn't seen that look—longing, lust, need—since Biology class. He wanted me. Me! He lifted a hand to circle around behind my neck, his fingers warm against my nape. Pulling me to him, our lips met once again. This time it wasn't gentle. Jack's tongue thrust into my mouth and I let him. This was a grown up kiss. Not a kiss of love-struck teenagers.

  “Miller,” Jack murmured.

  “What?” I asked again, my voice—and body—filled with frustration.

  “What about your date?”

  “What date?” I had no idea what he was talking about. I hadn't been on a date in too many months. My brain had steamed over so I didn't know much of anything at the moment.

  Jack's breath was hot on my neck. “The guy you went out with yesterday.”

  I froze for a moment, recalling my little white lie. Oh yeah, George. “Jealous?”

  “Hell, yeah.” His voice was rough, possessive.

  I smiled, then let Jack off the hook. I now had him, literally, within my grasp and I wanted nothing to get in the way. Especially an imaginary date with a garden gnome. “Didn't work out,” I replied and pulled his mouth back to mine.

  The heater finally kicked in and hot air blasted us from the vents. Jack's dark scent filled the van and my senses. We kissed for an indeterminate amount of time in our steamy cocoon.

  Jack rested his forehead against mine. “I could kiss you all day. Hell, I want to take you back into Violet's house and have my way with you. Do everything I dreamt about when I was eighteen. But I've got to meet the plumber at my uncle's house and I don't want to be late.”

  “I'm sure the plumber won't mind,” I replied, a little breathless. I wasn't sure how to tell him I was the plumber. He'd find out soon enough. Besides, I was savoring the lingering effects of the kiss. “I want to hear those things you dreamt about.”

  Jack smiled and waggled his eyebrows at me. Putting the car back in gear, I drove off.

  “I'm going to kill Violet when she gets home,” I said, meaning it.

  “I'll help.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “What do you mean you're the plumber?” Jack asked when we pulled up in front of Owen Reid's house.

  We made it as far as the hood of the van before kissing again, bodies pressed together. I didn't want to stop, to sink myself into the craving I had for Jack. The way he was breathing, I figured Jack was thinking the same thing. It might've been below zero, but we weren't alone on the public street so we kept it mostly PG-13. Unfortunately. Sadly, it was pretty easy to do since our clothing was at least two inches thick.

  “Your uncle hired me and my dad to replace all the pipes in the kitchen.”

  “Where's your dad?”

  “He's retired. I'm buying the business off of him. In fact, once you pay me, I'll be able to give him his last installment. Then the business is all mine.” The very thought had me doing a mental happy dance.

  Jack eyed me suspiciously. “You're the one keeping me from living here? Is this your way of getting me into your bed?”

  I snorted. “As of ten minutes ago, I wanted you in a different state. The city has the water turned off until they approve the inspection. Even if I finished the piping today, you still won't have service. Besides, without the electric, there's no heat and the pipes would freeze, burst and I'd have to start all over again.”

  A car honked at us and I turned to see who it was. I recognized the old station wagon as one of Mr. Reid's neighbors. I waved at the retreating car and noticed the same woman from the bank. She stood on the sidewalk across the street, about halfway down the block. Same pink jacket, same blond hair. I could see the white bandage on her hand from here.

  “Jack,” I cocked my head toward the woman. “See her? She was the one I pointed out to you in front of Goldilocks yesterday.”

  Jack turned his head, studied the woman. “You're right. Do you know her?”

  I shook my head. “I've seen her a couple of times around town. It seems like she's watching me.”

  Jack shrugged his shoulders. “She looks harmless.”

  Since Jack didn't seem to be too concerned, I wasn't either. Besides, if she kept standing around outside in this weather, she'd be hypothermic and not much of a stalker.

  “Can we talk about the plumbing inside? I'm not used to thi
s weather like you are.”

  “It's not much warmer in there.” Without heat, the only difference from outside was the lack of wind.

  Jack unlocked the front door and we stood in his uncle's living room. His cell rang.

  “Reid.” He listened. “You're shitting me.”

  That didn't sound good.

  “Tomorrow?” He ripped his hat off his head, turned and looked at me. His hair was unruly and tugged up in places from the cap. “I can't be there tomorrow.”

  Didn't seem to be a good conversation. Jack had said he needed to get back to Miami, that he had problems with work. I fiddled with one of the carved bears in a collection Mr. Reid had on top of the vintage TV console to try to give Jack some privacy.

  “Not Massachusetts.” A pause. “No, not Missouri. Yes, an M state. Jesus, I'm in Montana.” Jack closed his eyes and shook his head. “Yes, it's cold. Yes, there's snow. Do you want the full weather report? Fine. The day after. It'll be late. I'll call you when I get in.” He shut off the phone and shoved it in his coat pocket.

  Jack took a deep breath, looked at me. “Where were we?”

  There was no doubt he was distracted.

  “Maryland?” I joked, and then realized he wasn't in the mood. “Bad call?”

  His mouth flattened into a thin line. “I've had better. Plumbing?”

  Obviously he didn't want to talk about it.

  “Um...I'll have my portion of the work done tomorrow. Get the electrician lined up to start after that and we'll stay out of each other's way. You should be up and running over here by tomorrow night.”

  “What do you want me to do? I can't just stand here and watch you, although the idea has some appeal.” His gaze raked over my body.

  Yeah, having his eyes on me all day, wondering what he was thinking about, whether it was naughty or nice, would be difficult to handle. I handed him a card. “Call the inspector at this number and ask him to come out around ten tomorrow. When he signs off, I'm good to go and the water can be turned on to the house.”

  He looked at me, surprised. Not that I blamed him. The kitchen was completely gutted down to the studs. Only sub-flooring beneath our feet, no electric or plumbing, no cabinets, nothing. “So, I can have this project back on track by the end of the week?”