Gnomeless

by Jennifer Zane

  I nodded. “You've got to get back to Miami.”

  I knew he wasn't staying forever, but admitting it made it real. Liking him for only fifteen minutes wasn't enough. I wanted more.

  “I have a life there.” He ran a hand over his face again. “As you heard, I've got a crisis of my own to resolve and that won't happen with me being here. My uncle tricked me into coming in the first place.”

  I wasn't super excited to hear the only reason Jack was back was because he'd been tricked. I hadn't factored into his return at all, and that stung a little bit. Knowing he was leaving hurt a whole lot more.

  “Have you talked with Uncle Owen since you got here?” I wondered.

  Jack picked up a screwdriver, fiddled with it. “Voice mail twice, talked to him once. Says he's having a grand time in Arizona. Will be back in two weeks.”

  “Are you going to finish the project for him?”

  “I can't. I have to get back. But I'll stay until the heat's back on and I can walk away knowing the house will be livable when he gets back.”

  I recognized his predicament. Remodels took forever, and that didn't include setbacks. Jack couldn't stay, and I knew it. I inwardly sighed.

  “I'll call the inspector and get him here for you, okay?” Jack pulled out his cell again and got busy.

  I headed back out to the truck for my supplies while pondering Jack's appearance in Bozeman, and soon enough, disappearance. Was it worth kissing him if he was leaving? Could I just kiss and let him go? At the van, I looked for the mystery woman. She was gone. I shrugged my shoulders and went back to my work wondering what Jack's crisis was.

  ***

  “I'm going to strangle you when I see you. Guess who's back in town? You remember, the guy you slept with before graduation? Jack Reid.” I talked into my cell, although only to Violet's voice mail. Being at a school conference, she had meetings all day. The chances of yelling at her on the phone were pretty slim. After this, she'd screen her calls. She was a dead woman walking. It was only a matter of time.

  ***

  The rental car company had picked Jack up around lunchtime with a warm replacement and I hadn't seen him since. My dad came and went from the site, checking in and bringing me a thermos of hot coffee. He was completely retired, filling his time with tying flies for the fishing season six months away and driving my mother insane. In fact, she was the one who probably sent him with coffee in the first place. To get him out of her hair. Once I gave him the last payment on his part of the business, he'd be a carefree man. And I'd officially be a business owner. I couldn't wait. It got my hands working faster on the pipes under the kitchen sink.

  My cell rang while I was lying on my back, looking up at the garbage disposal, by body halfway in the kitchen cabinet. I laid there and took the call.

  “Have you finished your story yet?”

  Goldie.

  “No. Haven't started.”

  I heard her huff. “Bring at least five pages when you come tomorrow night.”

  I put the wrench I was using down. “Why? What's the big rush?”

  “Because you're having sex with a man.”

  I stared blindly up at the disposal trying to process Goldie's words. I wasn't going to tell her Jack had been messing with her—and me, but then she'd wonder why I wasn't having sex with Jack. That would be a long, and painful, discussion. I decided to evade instead. “As opposed to having sex with...”

  “Don't sass me, young lady. That man's your muse. Go with it.”

  She hung up. I stared at the cell for a moment, and then shook my head in disbelief.

  Jack was my muse? I hadn't written a word. I hadn't had sex with him either. But I was thinking about a hundred hot things I wanted to do with him I hadn't considered before. Maybe he was my muse.

  Two hours later I wrapped up for the day. My fingers were cold and I was pretty much done. I had to wait for the inspector to do his inspecting, and approving, before the final touches. I locked the front door, drove to Violet's, and lingered under the hot shower until I thawed out.

  The light was blinking on my cell indicating a missed call. I listened to the message from Violet. “Hi! It's me. Jack Reid? Wow. You honestly didn't think I'd slept with him, did you? I was just mad that you got a stain on that hot pink blouse I'd just bought at the mall with Suzie Fisher.”

  My eyes bulged out of my head. Lying about sleeping with the boy you had a crush on was not on the same level as ruining a shirt. I felt my blood pressure skyrocket.

  “He must be sooo hot now. He always had a thing for you.” She sounded bitter. “Wouldn't give me the time of day. Strange. Do me a favor, will you? It's Chris Sprague's turn to watch the snake. Can you load Jasper up and drop him off for me? He lives at 1503 S. Blake. Anytime after nine tomorrow morning. Thanks!”

  The stupid snake. I was like Indiana Jones. I hated snakes. Violet's first grade class had a pet snake, but it was currently living in Violet's house. She didn't mind snakes at all. But since she was away, it needed tending by someone who would give it dead mice, take it out of the terrarium, and clean out the snake poop. It wasn't me. Not for a million dollars. Chris Sprague, a second grade teacher at the same school, offered to take it. Finally. He was Mr. Snake. Just walking past it in Violet's living room gave me the creeps.

  I deleted her message and tossed the phone onto the couch. I always knew she was spawned from the devil to torture my life. The average person had a sibling that drove them insane. The devil had it in for me personally by cloning me instead.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “I think we need to reevaluate the whole pillow down the middle of the bed arrangement,” Jack said.

  We stood in Violet's kitchen eating take-out pizza. I choked on my bite of veggie deluxe. “The pillow berm?”

  Jack eyed me and, while chewing, said, “Mmm.” He swallowed, and then added, “We don't really need it anymore, do we? I don't hate your guts anymore.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I don't hate your guts anymore either.”

  Jack raised his hands, palms up. “See? We can move on to make-up sex. I know you want it. You went on the offensive last night and took out the pillow blockade.”

  I took a sip of soda trying to cool my lusty thoughts about how his body had felt beneath mine when I woke up. “How much do you want to?”

  “Have make-up sex?” Jack had a hip against the counter. He wore dark corduroys and a long sleeved T-shirt with a graphic of marlin fishing on it. “More than you can imagine.”

  “With the pillows gone, is it sleeping in a bed with me or sleeping with me?”

  “The non-sleeping version of sleeping with you.”

  Heat flared low in my belly. “Why?”

  Jack quirked an eyebrow. “Why? Because you're hot, you're you, and I've lusted after you since I was sixteen.”

  Wow. That felt good to hear. And it only made me hotter.

  I shook my head. “No, I mean, why now? You'll be leaving in a day or two.”

  Jack nodded his head at the clarification. “True. But don't you want to live out all my horny teenage fantasies?” He took a bite of pizza and chewed, his gaze grazing over my entire body.

  I gulped. “You've had fantasies about me?”

  Shaking his head from side to side, “I've had some where I strangle you for tricking me like that with your sister.” He held a hand up. “But since that problem's been resolved, the other fantasies where I rip your clothes off and do lots of naughty and illegal things to you move to the front of the line.”

  Naughty and illegal things! Yes! I nibbled on the edge of my slice.

  “Anything involving cock rings?” I asked, jokingly.

  Jack chuckled. “Only if it includes you and a bed.”

  I gulped. I couldn't help it.

  “It's like ten years of foreplay,” I commented, noticing the room was getting very warm.

  Jack's gaze dropped to my mouth. “Absolutely.” His voice had become low and dark.

  I toss
ed my crust onto my plate. “God, Jack. No matter how much I want to,” I took a deep breath, the devil on my shoulder poking me with his little pointed staff as I said this, “you're leaving. I can't get all tangled up with you and then watch you go away again.”

  Jack stood there quiet for a moment. “Yeah, I can see that. Doesn't mean I'll stop trying.” He lifted an eyebrow and smiled wickedly.

  I swatted his shoulder. His rock hard, well muscled shoulder. Oh, crap. “I want you to try to control yourself.”

  “I may not have the willpower. Just looking at you makes me want to do the caveman routine.”

  “That's oddly flattering.” On top of the heat, I felt my nipples tighten and my panties get a little damp.

  Jack smiled. “I try.”

  I put my plate in the dishwasher, put the soda can in the recycling container. I definitely wanted to have sex with Jack. It would be hot and mind-blowing. I wanted him to jump my bones and have his way with me. But I needed to play it cool. If he felt anything like I did—horny as hell—I wasn't sure if we'd be able to keep our hands off each other, his leaving or not. “Since we're not having sex, you can have the TV. I've got to work on something for Goldie.”

  “What kind of work?”

  I took a deep breath, prepared to be picked on. “I've been forced by Goldie to write a romance novel. She says you're my muse.”

  “With just a kiss?”

  I pointed at him. “That's what I said.”

  Jack scratched his head. “I like this muse idea. Maybe I should give you some story ideas.” He snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me into his warm body for a kiss. With tongue. Lots of it. Now my panties were really wet.

  “You're still leaving,” I said, my voice rough, my breath coming out in little pants.

  “Dammit.” He pushed me away, ran his hands over his mouth. “I'm trying to be chivalrous here, but you're too sexy to resist. I think I have to be your muse from a different room.” He walked away and I heard the TV come on. Basketball. Talk about a mood killer.

  ***

  I survived a restless night's sleep with my muse beside me. I'd rebuilt the pillow blockade. My stacking skills must have been better than Jack's as the wall stood the whole night. I woke up on my side, Jack woke on his. I debated if that was a good or bad thing. It had felt really, really good waking up sprawled across him. Having a foot of pillows between us wasn't the same at all.

  I'd stayed up late working on my ridiculous story and slept fitfully, dreaming about a romance hero ravishing a buxom beauty in the cabin of a steamship. The dream, the hot man in the bed with me, regardless of pillow wall, and his plan to break down my sexual defenses, left me hot and bothered and tired.

  Jack spent the morning with the electrician or on the phone yelling at someone, most likely in Miami. He stormed off saying he was going to pick out light fixtures and counter material at the local hardware store before he lost his mind. Being out of his line of fire was fine by me.

  Based on his phone call, he would be flying out the next day. I tried to protect my heart from that moment. I'd enjoyed his company these past few days, glad we cleared the air about the whole Violet incident. But I would miss him. Okay, understatement of the year. I’d adjust. Hell, I’d been missing him for a decade and gotten along just fine.

  Pushing any feelings for Jack aside, I got busy. I had a successful morning with the inspector, receiving the certificate for the plumbing work. All I had left was to come back and attach all of the fixtures Jack purchased once the kitchen was complete. I wrote up my final invoice and left it tacked to the door where Jack would find it.

  Hoping to catch a quick nap before working at Goldilocks all night, I headed back to Violet's house. The sun was shining, painfully bright off the white snow. Parking the van out front, I was stopped by Old Mr. Chalmers. He wore a red and black plaid wool coat from the sixties, a black watch cap, his overalls and heavy black boots. He held his shotgun in his hands. That wasn't a good sign. I shut the van door behind me and smiled at Violet's neighbor.

  “Hi, Mr. Chalmers. How's it going today?”

  “I thought you said you had a man staying there.” He pointed the tip of the gun toward the house.

  “That's right. Jack Reid.” I stood about ten feet from him, giving him plenty of room. I kept one eye on the barrel of the gun to make sure it didn't swivel my way.

  “Then what's a woman doing in there?”

  I looked at the house. I saw nothing remarkable. It was a squat miner's shack from the 1800s. White clapboard siding, miniscule front porch. Snow everywhere, piled up beside the walkways.

  “Violet's back?” I was surprised as her conference was supposed to last a few more days.

  “Nah, some other lady.”

  I didn't have a good feeling. “What did she look like?”

  “Blond. Pink coat. She was in there for a few minutes, and then came back out. I shouted at her. She ignored me, so I shot her.”

  We made our way up the walk to the front of the house. I stopped in my tracks at what he said. “Did you hit her?” I didn't see any blood. No body parts strewn about.

  “Nah, scared the pants off her though. I don't think she'll be back.”

  I carefully tilted the butt of the gun out of the way and gave Mr. Chalmers a hug. “Thanks for watching out for me.”

  He patted my back through my jacket. “Ah, missy. Let's go see what she was doing in there.”

  We went inside, closing the door behind us. It was habit to quickly shut doors, even with a room completely ransacked by a complete stranger. Didn't want to let the heat out, even if the bad guy could still be lurking about.

  “Holy hell,” Old Mr. Chalmers said.

  I looked around. Magazines were on the floor, pictures were crooked, couch pulled away from the wall. None of that bothered me as much as seeing the top off of the snake terrarium.

  “Holy hell,” I repeated. Jasper wasn't in his cage.

  I hustled Old Mr. Chalmers out of the house faster than I'd ever moved in my life.

  ***

  “I've got a problem,” I said to Jack over the phone. I sat in Old Mr. Chalmers' kitchen having some coffee. I had a feeling he'd slipped some whiskey into it as I was a little warmer than usual and was caring less about the escaped snake by the minute.

  “Plumbing or personal?” he asked.

  “That's a new take on the question. Usually I get 'personal plumbing problem?'”

  I heard Jack chuckle through the phone. “I can help with that, too.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I asked for that. Anyway, neither personal nor plumbing. Nor personal plumbing. Jasper, the snake, got out of his terrarium in Violet's house.”

  There was a pause. “So just put him back.”

  “Are you insane? It's a snake! I have no idea where it is in the house and...and it's a snake!” I was waving my arms wildly about as I talked.

  “Okay. I see the problem,” he said calmly. “Where are you now?”

  “Across the street with Mr. Chalmers.” I smiled at the older man sitting across from me, the shotgun resting on the scarred kitchen table between us.

  Another pause. “He's not going to shoot at me again if I park out front, is he?”

  I pondered that for a moment. The gun probably wasn't loaded anymore. “I'll make sure he doesn't.”

  I heard a grunt, and then the line went dead.

  Thirty minutes later I was definitely tipsy and wired with caffeine. I heard a car door slam and I peeked out and saw Jack, leaning against a different rental. I didn't blame him for not approaching the house. Old Mr. Chalmers was all warmed up and ready to shoot again, if need be.

  I gave the old man a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek before bundling back up and meeting Jack by the car. Snow squeaked beneath my boots in that sound it made when it was super cold.

  He had a small brown bag in his gloved hand.

  “How are you going to do this?” I asked, looking at Violet's house as if Jasper wa
s watching from the window.

  He held up the bag. “Mouse from the pet store.”

  I gulped. Poor mouse.

  Jack went into Violet's house, for once I was happily left out in the cold. Ten seconds later he came back out and stood in front of me, his breath in big white puffs. “How big is this snake? Is it a python, because the house is a mess.”

  “Boa constrictor. Brown, black stripes.” I held out my arms in front of me as if measuring the length. “Yeah, well, it's a mess because someone broke in.”

  Jack stood there staring at me as if I'd grown a second head. “Broke in? You called me because you had a problem with a snake. You didn't think having a break-in was a problem?” His eyes darkened when he got riled up. I hadn't noticed that before.

  I put my hands on my hips. “I wanted to tackle the most important one first!”

  “Most imp—” Jack huffed out a big breath. “A loose snake is the most important?” He ran his hand over his hat covered head.

  “To me it is!” I snapped back, hiccuping.

  Jack stepped close, sniffed. “Have you been drinking?”

  I held up my finger and thumb to show him a little bit. “I think Old Mr. Chalmers was trying to get me drunk.”

  Jack smiled finally showing beautiful straight teeth. Grunted. “Smart man.”

  He left me, went back into the Violet's house, and closed the door behind him. I stomped my feet on the snow-packed ground while I waited for him to come back out. I half expected to see him come out screaming with a different kind of boa wrapped around his neck. A minute later he returned to my side snakeless.

  “That's it?” I asked.

  Jack shrugged his shoulders. “Now we wait.”

  I looked at my watch. I had to be at Goldilocks. “I'm a little sloshed. Wait for what exactly?”

  “I turned the terrarium upright and put the mouse in. Jasper will slither back inside for his little snack. It'll take a while to eat so he's not going to get out. I'll just put the cover back on then.”

  “Huh. That's actually pretty smart. My hero.”