It was impossible to hold back a smile of pure pleasure.
*
Her smile transported Damon back to their Grade Ten English class. They’d been studying Shakespeare. Othello, if memory served him, or maybe Macbeth. She’d been absorbed in the recording the teacher had played—the cadence of the actors’ voices and the poetry of the speech.
He’d loved watching her rapt face and all its changing expressions. She’d made him appreciate the play in a way he never would have on his own. He’d offered to help her with the written assignment, but in reality, she’d helped him as much, if not more, by making him understand it on a deeper level. She’d gotten the subtext.
She had never overcome her difficulty with reading, however. He’d seen the way she’d stared at the instructions he’d left her. That was why he’d stepped in when Emma arrived—she’d taken too long to begin the transaction. While he had no intention of making life easy for her, he’d never use a disability against anyone. It was too personal and he wasn’t that harsh.
And she’d cleaned the men’s room like a boss, all on her own. The Jess he remembered would have talked someone else into doing it for her. At the very least, he’d expected an argument.
“This definitely paid for your tire,” he conceded. “It might have earned you an oil change, too. I’ll even watch the pumps over lunch if you’d like to get out for an hour. But just this once. Let’s not get crazy.”
“Your generosity is overwhelming. Let me disinfect my entire body first, then maybe I can think about eating.” She looked at her hands, an expression of distaste crinkling her nose. “Or not.”
Out, damned spot. Out, I say!
The play must have been Macbeth for that line to pop into his head. Plus, she seemed to have a thing about clean hands. She was so darned cute though, all pink shirt and tangled blonde curls, that warning bells started ringing. She was like a fourth shot of tequila, really sneaking up on a guy.
“I could take my sandwich to the park,” she said. “It’s a beautiful day.”
There was a popular public park on Flathead Lake, not far from the resorts at the end of Swan Point Road. It was filled with playground equipment and walking paths, and would be quiet at this time of year. The tourists with families hadn’t yet begun to arrive at the resorts and the local kids were all still in school. Damon liked to sit there himself, although he hadn’t had time in months.
Tony came in while she was gone.
“I heard a rumor Jess Palmer was working here. What the hell, man?” Tony demanded, looking around.
Damon crumpled his sandwich wrapper and tossed it into the garbage. He couldn’t remember if Jess had ever had anything to do with Tony. He’d been a few years ahead of Damon in school before Damon dropped out, which should have put him out of Jess’s circle of acquaintances. “What difference does it make if she is?”
“If you were hiring, why not give Aileen a shot?”
So that was his problem. “I wasn’t planning on hiring anyone. An opportunity presented itself for Jess to help me out. It’s a temporary arrangement.”
“Ah.” A knowing grin spread across Tony’s face. “You’re trying to nail her.”
The crudeness made Damon wince. What were they, eighteen?
Besides, the assumption was so far from the truth he didn’t even know where to begin. He’d gone down that road once. Never again. If he hadn’t felt sorry for her—if he wasn’t such a soft touch—she wouldn’t be here.
He really did need to learn how to say no. If he had, Tony wouldn’t be over seven hundred dollars in debt to him, either.
Since he had no need to explain anything to anyone, and denial would only precipitate a discussion he had no wish to participate in, he kept quiet.
“Better men than you have tried, my friend,” Tony continued. “Although, if the stories are true, most of them succeeded. And hasn’t she been shacking up with some rich old dude?”
One more thing Damon didn’t need to hear—that money mattered with her. “Tell me again why we’re friends.”
“Because if we weren’t you’d bore yourself to death.”
Damon wasn’t so sure. Tony had been a lot of fun back in high school, but whereas most of their mutual friends had grown up he’d never made it out of Neverland. That kind of fun could wear off fast—especially when there were bills to be paid.
Tony reached in his pocket. “I have the money I owe you.” He handed Damon two crisp one hundred dollar bills.
Damon fingered the money. He wasn’t taking food from a mother and child. “Are you sure Aileen doesn’t need this?”
Tony rubbed the back of his neck. “I won a couple thousand last night. We’re good until she finds a job.”
A dozen responses ran through Damon’s head. The first was that Aileen wouldn’t need a job if Tony would quit gambling. Another was to ask about the five hundred he still owed him, because based on their current conversation, he suspected that might be money he never saw again. For Aileen’s sake, he’d let it go. In the long run it would be worth it.
“Good to know, buddy,” he said. “Because the Brand Bank is now closed.”
Jess returned as Tony was leaving.
His gaze slid up and down her. He broadened his grin into one of wide-eyed appreciation. He held the door open for her to come in, then turned on the charm. “Hel-lo, pretty lady.”
“Hello, married guy.” Jess barely spared him a glance as she breezed by.
“Who says I’m married?” Tony asked, still holding the door.
Damon bit back his annoyance. Tony had a beautiful wife and baby at home, and no discernible gratefulness for either.
Jess pointed over her shoulder at his car through the front window. It was the only one parked at the pumps. “The baby seat in the back.” She eased around the end of the counter to stand beside Damon. Even sitting down he was taller than her, but what she lacked in height she more than made up for in attitude. Her eyes met his. Her eyebrows shot skyward. “Excuse me. You’re in my seat.”
Tony hadn’t taken his eyes off her, as if he were assessing some new personal challenge. He seemed more than a little put out by it, too.
“Your staff is charming,” he said to Damon.
“She keeps the place classy and the toilets clean,” he replied.
Somewhere between going to lunch and returning, it was obvious she’d lost her good mood. Even if she hadn’t, however, he’d never expect her to become best friends with some guy who was hitting on her. Tony was harmless, but he was still an ass.
“What’s up, princess?” he asked after Tony had left. “The men’s room is done. Compared to that, the ladies’ room should be a piece of cake.”
She played with the paper he’d left on the counter, pushing it around with her finger, a pensive expression tugging her pretty mouth into a frown. She seemed miles away. When she glanced up, he thought he saw sorrow.
“Hmm? Oh. I was just remembering why I left Cherry Lake in the first place.”
She didn’t elaborate. It was as if a shutter had dropped between her and the world. Damon decided it best not to poke at it. But did he not want to leave it alone for his sake or hers?
Because, in spite of everything, he didn’t like seeing Jess sad. At least he now had a little cash with which to pay her.
Someone had wandered into the service bay through the rear bay doors and was calling his name.
“Give a shout if you need me,” he said to Jess, then went back to work.
Chapter Five
‡
Small towns had long memories and no sense of personal boundaries. Everyone had questions, advice, and opinions.
Especially for her.
Jess hadn’t been prepared for such nosiness about her relationship with John. Not from a non-family member. Nor had she been ready to tell a person she hadn’t seen in ten years that he’d passed away. Everyone assumed she’d only been with him for his money. No one got the real tragedy, or that she was
heartsick about it.
But Pansy Oppenheimer was a close friend of her grandfather’s and had been kept up to date on Jess’s personal failings. She’d never had children of her own so she’d adopted the town’s. She’d viewed teenage Jess as a challenge, and it turned out she still felt that way.
You’re a pretty woman, Jess, but take it from me. Life is short and looks won’t last forever. Money isn’t everything, either. Stop relying on rich old men for your income. If you can’t make an honest living on your own, then find a decent, hardworking man your own age and settle down.
The worst of it was, she couldn’t be entirely sure that Aunt Pansy wasn’t referring to her grandfather, too, when she’d mentioned relying on rich old men.
She hated small towns.
The afternoon passed by as fast as the morning hours had. At three o’clock a gangly teenager strode in, a scruffy backpack dangling from one shoulder, his trousers bagging low off his hips. Ginger hair poked up in all directions, as if it hadn’t been combed in a week.
He skidded to a halt when he spotted Jess behind the counter. “Damon hired someone new?”
“Your job is safe. I’m just here to watch the cash through the day.” She hopped off the stool and held out her hand. “I’m Jessica.”
“Aaron.” The teenager eyed her. “No offense, but you don’t really look like someone Damon would hire.”
“No?” His judgyness brought out her evil. “What would they look like?”
“Well, more…” he floundered. His freckled face reddened.
She helped him out. “Tall?” she suggested. “Rugged? Owning a penis?”
“Let’s go with tall.”
In the service bay, Damon was lowering her car off the hoist. He’d finished changing her tire.
She grabbed her purse from under the counter. “I cleaned the restrooms,” she said to the boy. “I don’t mind keeping them clean, but if I find the paper towel and toilet paper holders are empty in the morning, you’re going to hear about it. The soap dispensers, too,” she warned him. “See you tomorrow. Nice meeting you.” She topped off the last with a perky tone and cheerful smile.
“You too,” he replied, looking dazed.
“I have good news and bad news for you,” Damon announced when she walked into the bay area.
“Let’s start with the good news.”
“Your car is in fair condition underneath, all things considered. The little bit of corrosion is due to age, not salt. Sitting in someone’s backyard didn’t help it.”
“That sounds more like okay news. Should I brace myself for the bad?”
“Wouldn’t hurt. You’ve got three ball joints that need to be replaced, your tires aren’t roadworthy, your fuel line has a small leak, and you’ve got a broken link on a sway bar. Unfortunately, the link is one of the things that’s rusted out due to age.”
Tears burned hot at the backs of her eyes. She willed them away. If she hadn’t already been unsettled once today she wouldn’t be so emotional about this. It was just a stupid car. “Really, you’ve got nothing but bad news.”
His expression softened into sympathy. “It’s all fixable, Jess. Plus, you know a mechanic.”
Labor was one thing. She had no idea how she’d pay for the parts. She couldn’t expect him to cover their cost. He didn’t like her that much. “I don’t suppose you have an installment plan?”
“We can work something out.” He glanced at a grimy clock on the wall. “Right now, why don’t I give you a lift home?”
He had two hours left before the service bay closed. She couldn’t ask that of him. “My car got me this far. It will get me around Cherry Lake for a few more weeks.”
He was shaking his head. “I can’t let you do that. It’s not safe to drive.”
“How am I supposed to get back and forth to work?” Her eyes narrowed. She jabbed a finger at the name tag on his chest. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? You think if I don’t have a car, I can’t come to work.”
Guilt crossed his face. “That never occurred to me.”
Hurt twisted a knot in her stomach. She’d done her best today. She’d cleaned the restrooms. She’d been polite to customers. Well. All but one. What more did he want?
The truth shone crystal clear. What he wanted was to not have her around, and she couldn’t blame him. She’d used him to do her homework. She’d humiliated him. And still, she manipulated favors from him—because there was nowhere else for her to turn. The thought of telling her grandfather she couldn’t keep a job at a gas station was more than she could bear. It wasn’t as if she could get another job, either.
Not without a car.
She’d have to sell all her clothes to get the money for the tires and repairs, and yet without a car, she had no way to get to Polson. Asking to borrow her grandfather’s truck for a few days, or have him drive her around, was her only solution.
“I’ll call my grandfather to come get me.” She’d have to use the landline in the garage. Her cell phone had been cut off so she’d thrown it away.
Her grandfather, however, wasn’t home when she called.
She felt Damon’s eyes on her as she untangled the long cord before hanging up the receiver, trying to buy herself time to come up with a cousin she didn’t mind calling. Carrie wasn’t in town. She and Will weren’t exactly best friends. Brett made her nervous. One of her uncles might help her, but then she’d have to listen to well-meant advice.
She wiped her hand on the leg of her jeans and exhaled a loud sigh. “Is there a single clean surface in this place anywhere?”
Damon’s grin burst forth like the dawn of the sun, a sight to behold. “The men’s room is spotless. I hear the ladies’ is, too.”
She had to admit, that really was funny. And when he smiled at her with his blue eyes crinkling and those laugh lines hugging his kissable lips, it gave her the same little flutters she’d gotten way back in high school. Something about him simply made people feel good. Why was she okay with accepting his help when she’d bullied him into it, but not when he offered it freely?
“I’d be very grateful if you’d drive me home.” She said it as if she meant it, which she did. It was hardly his fault that her car wasn’t roadworthy.
“I’ll get my keys.”
She heard him tell Aaron that he’d be gone for a half hour. Then he was back, his keys in his hand. He stripped off his coveralls and hung them on a hook. Underneath he wore a CHERRY LAKE cotton t-shirt over a long-sleeved gray jersey and Wranglers, the denim of choice for real men in Montana.
She followed him out to his parked truck. He went straight to the passenger door and opened it for her. She looked at the shiny chrome side step, then up at the seat. They were a significant distance apart. He held out his hand. “There’s a handlebar on the cab for you to grab onto.”
She took the bar on one side and the hand he offered on the other, placed a foot on the side step, and a second later, she was inside.
As well as their jeans, it turned out that Montana men took their transportation seriously. While the four wheel drive wasn’t new, it was obviously his baby. The cab was pristine. The seat covers looked as if they’d been freshly laundered.
She couldn’t resist. “It’s like a girl owns this thing.”
Damon hopped into the driver’s seat, drawing the door closed behind him. He reached for his seatbelt, pulled it tight across his chest and hips before snapping it into the buckle. He stretched one long leg so he could put his boot on the brake, then cast another one of those mind-melting smiles in her direction as he started the engine. “Or, perhaps the owner wants pretty girls to like going for rides in it with him.”
She didn’t doubt for a second that women for miles around lined up for the privilege, or that the cleanliness of his truck wasn’t the attraction. He couldn’t possibly be single, or at least not have remained so for the entire ten years she’d been away, and yet she’d seen no signs of a significant other in his life. From wha
t she could tell so far—although admittedly it was little—his life revolved around his garage.
The next fifteen minutes were the most awkward she could ever remember. They were trapped in a truck together with nothing really to say and no way to escape. The past was a gigantic white elephant sitting between them.
It wasn’t as if she could apologize. There were no words to justify what she’d done. To explain that she’d panicked. How could she possibly use her feelings as an excuse when she’d had no regard for his?
It was a relief to finally pull into her grandfather’s yard. She had the door open and was hopping nimbly to the ground before Damon could get out and help her.
“Thanks for the ride,” she shouted over her shoulder, slamming the door and turning to run.
He leaned across the seat to shout after her through the open passenger side window. “I’ll swing by and pick you up in the morning. Be ready at quarter to six.”
Her heart started pounding like crazy. She spun on one heel, using the other foot as a brake. “I can’t ask you to do that. It’s out of your way.”
“Not really. I live another ten minutes out this road.” He must have read her surprise from the look on her face. “What? You thought I still lived with my mother? Besides,” he added, “I intend to take shuttle service out of your pay.”
“Pretty soon I’ll be paying for the privilege of working for you,” she said.
“Oh, you’ll pay, princess.” He threw the truck into gear. “Don’t worry about that.”
She watched the tail end of his truck disappear. The strange thing was, she wasn’t worried at all. There was nothing he could do that would hurt or embarrass her as much as she’d hurt and humiliated him.
He’d earned retribution.
*
“She’s like a psycho blonde serial killer cheerleader germophobe,” Aaron complained from his perch on the ladder.
They were doing inventory. Damon planned to place an order for parts. He passed a box of lug nuts to the teenager so he could put it on the shelf while he made a note of it on an inventory spreadsheet. No lug nuts needed.
Her Secret Love Page 5
