After Darke

by Heather MacAllister

  He knew nothing about construction, but it seemed that Seth, Clint and Bonnie had made great progress.

  The whine of a circular saw kept them from hearing his approach. Seth, wearing safety goggles, bent over the sheet of plywood now propped on sawhorses.

  Yes, good old Seth, Jaron thought sourly. He was the quiet type—but his type didn’t need to talk. The tight white T-shirt stretched over a massive chest and arms as big as thighs—not Jaron’s, but some men’s—said all that needed to be said. Shouted, actually. Shouted to women, silly women who didn’t know any better than to admire muscles.

  Yeah, Jaron wouldn’t be challenging him to any arm-wrestling contests, but he knew he could take him in a five-kilometer run. Bulky muscles were heavy.

  He wondered if Bonnie was a silly woman. Did she admire Seth’s muscles instead of Jaron’s lithe strength?

  Seth’s type didn’t look good in suits. All those overmuscled bulges would spoil the lines. Jaron looked good in suits, not that Bonnie would care, because she clearly wasn’t drawn to the suit-wearing type. And that was fine with Jaron, because he didn’t care to whom or what Bonnie was drawn.

  He advanced into the room. Bonnie was doing something with various-sized pipes. It involved screwing them into fittings and poking them down the wall toward the floor below, bringing them back up, marking them and making a notation in a notebook.

  Jaron had known she was a plumber, but there was a huge difference between being told she was a plumber and seeing her actually plumb. He watched, fascinated. Here was a woman who possessed a realm of knowledge that he knew nothing about. Why should he? That’s what building supers were for. And, no, plumbing didn’t fascinate him.

  Bonnie fascinated him.

  Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail and one piece kept falling into her face. Rather than redoing her ponytail, she kept impatiently pulling the piece of hair behind her ear, where it stayed only a matter of seconds before slithering forward to curl against her cheek.

  Blueprints were spread around her as well as a larger sketch that she made notations on. Fittings and pipes in plastic, metal and copper were lined up on the floor. She looked competent. Strong. A woman to be reckoned with. And Jaron wanted to reckon with her.

  Seth’s sawing whined to a stop as Jaron crunched on some stray woodchips.

  “Hey. What brings you up here?” Bonnie asked without looking at him.

  She had sawdust on the knees of her jeans and wore a white T-shirt that said Cooper’s Corner Christmas Festival 1999 in red and green on it. Her T-shirt wasn’t as tight as Seth’s, but it would do.

  Why was Jaron up here? Oh, yes. He was leaving. But he couldn’t tell her that, or work up a good dose of justifiable anger with Mr. Strong-and-Silent listening to every word.

  “I wanted to see the progress.”

  On her knees, Bonnie measured the space from the floor to a point on a notched wall stud and marked it, then picked up another length of pipe and bent forward. Her jeans pulled tight. Her T-shirt pulled tight. The piece of hair slithered.

  Jaron sweated.

  He happened to glance Seth’s way; maybe the carpenter’s lack of motion registered. Through the safety goggles, Seth met his gaze. The other man moved the goggles to the top of his head, glanced briefly toward Bonnie, then met Jaron’s eyes again. The corner of his mouth turned upward before he turned away and dropped the cut pieces of wood on a stack of similar ones.

  He’d caught Jaron staring at Bonnie and had given Jaron a yeah-she’s-one-hot-babe look. There’d also been an acknowledgment that she was Jaron’s territory and he wouldn’t trespass. He could, but he wouldn’t.

  Oh, he thought he could, did he? Jaron might not have his muscles, but he had...absolutely no business thinking like that. It was a fake engagement. No poaching could occur.

  “Are you going to stand there all day?” Bonnie stuck a pencil in her mouth and screwed a connector to the end of the pipe. Clearly she’d forgotten the lovey-dovey act.

  “Just couldn’t bear to be away from you any longer, my love,” Jaron said.

  Bonnie’s eyes widened, then understanding dawned. “How’s the book coming?” Her voice was much sweeter.

  “I wrote a lot last night. I’m taking a break.”

  Nodding, she continued doing plumbing things.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting ready to rough in the plumbing. You’ve heard the saying ‘measure twice, cut once’?”

  He hadn’t, but could see the value of it. He nodded.

  “That’s what I’m doing.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then I’ll hook this soil stack into the main line and fit the hot and cold water pipes here. And then we call in the building inspector to make sure everything’s to code.” This time, she stuck her pencil in her ponytail as she took the pipe frame she’d hooked together—it looked like old-fashioned tinker toys—and pressed it into the notches in the wall studs.

  “Could I help?” The offer slipped out, motivated by a reluctant desire to watch her.

  Bonnie made pencil marks on the wall studs. “Have you ever done any plumbing work before?”

  “No.”

  “Well...how about using a saw?”

  “No.”

  “A sander?”

  Jaron shook his head.

  “Floating and taping?”

  He wasn’t sure he knew what that was.

  “Have you ever done any construction work?”

  “I assembled a floor lamp.” It even worked.

  Bonnie sat back on her heels, pulling the denim tight over her thighs. The pencil went back into her ponytail, the movement of her arms pulling her T-shirt.

  At that moment, Jaron wished he’d accepted a friend’s invitation to go on a Habitat for Humanity building mission, because he desperately wanted to be able to do something to prove himself in Bonnie’s world. In Bonnie’s world, people constructed things out of other things. They created useful things.

  Jaron could visualize Bonnie as a pioneer woman coping admirably, whereas all he could do was write about the experience—not a useful survival skill.

  “Well, Jay...” She looked around, trying to find something for him to do, catching her full lower lip in her teeth as she did so.

  Jaron felt every pull on her lip deep within him. “I could paint.” Anyone could paint.

  “We’re not at the painting stage.”

  The fact was, he was totally useless here and they both knew it. He dredged up a cool smile from somewhere. “Never say I didn’t offer.”

  “Okay.” Bonnie had already returned her attention to her work. “See you later.”

  And, feeling completely and utterly worthless for the first time in his life, Jaron went back downstairs.

  * * *

  GOOD. IT was time for Jaron to realize what a worthless parasite he was.

  Bonnie was feeling very accomplished—both in her work and in her one-upmanship game with him. She was making an actual contribution. Once she and Seth were finished, there would be a fifth guest room for the B and B. She and Seth had worked on the original renovations, too.

  Bonnie had something to show for her time other than a bunch of snotty comments about people and restaurants that catered to the underworld. She, Bonnie, was a valuable member of society. If she was gone, drains would clog and toilets would overflow. Old fixtures—history—would be destroyed. She both created and preserved. Take that, Jaron Darke.

  Except...except she’d seen the look on his face when he’d offered to help and there was nothing he could do. She didn’t like seeing him look that way.

  Yesterday, he’d washed her dishes. He’d charmed her friends and family. He’d tried to protect her reputation.

  He’d stood by
her on the street when she’d refused to leave. He’d gotten them out of that seedy hotel, calming her when she would have panicked. He’d stayed with her until she was back home.

  She touched her cheek, now all healed, and remembered Jaron shoving her into the side of the restaurant and covering her with his body. She’d felt his heart pounding against her backbone.

  And he didn’t even like her. What would he be like with someone he truly cared for? Truly loved? Bonnie wished she knew.

  The thought struck her harder than her cheek had struck the brick wall. She wished she knew.

  Why? Why did she want to know? Even though he was all those admirable things, and looked okay—more than okay, since she was being fair—he was still Jaron. She didn’t—she couldn’t... Bonnie’s mind refused to form the word.

  “Earth to Bonnie.” Seth had finished sawing more plywood. “Are you going to break for lunch or work straight through?”

  She really ought to work straight through. But she really wanted to see Jaron. “I’m breaking for lunch.”

  Heading downstairs, she heard Maureen vacuuming in the guest rooms, which meant she probably hadn’t fixed any sandwiches for them yet. Bonnie followed the sound, intending to ask if Maureen wanted her to start lunch. Yes, she and Seth both were charging less for their labor in exchange for meals, but Bonnie knew Maureen could barely keep on top of things as it was. Between running the B and B and looking after the twins, Maureen put in full days. Not to mention the stress of wondering if her next guest was a member of the mob in disguise, or the guy who was after her.

  Bonnie walked into the room where she heard the vacuum cleaner. “Maureen, would you like—” Breaking off, she stared at the dark-haired man wielding the vacuum cleaner with the careful movements of one who is learning a new skill. “What are you doing?”

  Jaron’s black eyes were expressionless. “Vacuuming.”

  “I see that, but why?”

  He flipped the off switch. “I’m making myself useful.”

  Bonnie hardly knew what to say. “You’ve become quite domestic lately.”

  “The twins were hungry, so I offered to do this so Maureen could get them something to eat.” He flipped the vacuum back on, apparently considering the conversation at an end.

  Bonnie stood in the doorway for a moment. There was something extremely sexy about the play of muscles in a man’s back as he vacuumed. She’d never realized it before. But had she ever watched a man vacuum before?

  Jaron effortlessly moved the bed and vacuumed the area by the wall. Even she didn’t do that all the time. He was rhythmically methodical, with long smooth strokes, and was able to work his way into tight corners. He looked like a natural. At the vacuum. She swallowed and went downstairs to make sandwiches.

  After that, Bonnie noticed that Jaron vacuumed the entire B and B every day. He never complained. He complained about a lot of other stuff, but never vacuuming. He didn’t visit Bonnie in the attic again, either. It was probably just as well. It didn’t stop her from listening for the door all the time, which was likely why she marked one pipe at both ends and ended up with a backward assembly. She was so embarrassed, she pretended that she’d done it on purpose.

  With her load lightened, Maureen had lost her haggard-around-the-edges look, and Bonnie could almost believe everything was normal.

  And then came the day of the scones. Clint was helping Seth in the attic and didn’t have time to bake his traditional chocolate chip cookies.

  Bonnie had used Maureen’s shower to clean up after she’d finished for the day, and when she stepped out into the hall, she smelled something other than the usual chocolate in the air.

  She followed her nose to the kitchen, where Jaron, in another stunning display of domesticity, was pouring a glass of milk for Keegan’s after-school snack. Keegan was stuffing something white into his mouth. The twins had a head start on mouth stuffing.

  “‘Nother one.” Randi held out her plate

  “Please.” Robin just held out her hand.

  “Only if it’s okay with your mother.” Jaron had tied a tea towel around his waist, and flour dusted his wrists. He’d never looked better.

  “Just this once,” Maureen said from the sink.

  “What are those?” Bonnie asked.

  “Scones.” Jaron pronounced it to rhyme with “gone.” “They’re traditional with tea. Have one.”

  Like Robin, Bonnie held out her hand.

  “No, no, no.” Jaron’s eyes twinkled. “Presentation is everything.”

  Jaron’s eyes twinkled. Jaron’s eyes didn’t twinkle. Ever. He wasn’t a twinkly eyed sort of person.

  Afterward Bonnie knew it had been a warning. Alert. Life-changing moment ahead.

  Jaron opened a cabinet, got down a plate and put one of the scones on it, but Bonnie wasn’t thinking about scones. She was thinking about eyes that had twinkled when they never had before, and she was waiting for the moment when he looked at her again so that she could see if they were still twinkling or if it had been the afternoon light coming in through the kitchen window.

  He must have been holding the plate, but she was searching his eyes and not noticing the plate...and they definitely twinkled. The corners even crinkled. Her mouth fell open. Jaron popped the scone in.

  And that was when Bonnie fell in love with him.

  Vaguely, she was aware of shrieks and giggles from the twins and laughter from Keegan and Maureen, but mostly she was aware of Jaron, who was not laughing, but smiling as he gazed down at her.

  Bonnie took a bite of the warm, biscuitlike scone, and as the decadent buttery taste filled her mouth, she wondered if he knew. Could he tell that she loved him? That his vacuuming and his dishwashing and giving Maureen some relief, and his calculated-to-please killer smiles, and his unexpected kindness, and his coolness in a crisis, and his innate decency, and the strength in his arms had all been gathering together until they spelled love in her mind?

  “You made these?” she asked when she’d chewed and swallowed. She sounded normal. How could she sound normal?

  Looking pleased with himself, he nodded. “I was paired with a celebrity chef for a fund-raiser and he taught me.”

  “They’re fabulous.”

  He rolled out another thick circle of dough. “Thank you.”

  “And they’re going to be served at tea.” Maureen washed the twins’ hands and faces and sent them off to play.

  Keegan wrapped another scone in a napkin, grabbed his backpack and followed the twins out of the kitchen.

  “Keegan! Don’t get crumbs on the floor!” Maureen called. “Jay just finished vacuuming.”

  Now, there was something a person didn’t hear every day.

  Bonnie munched her scone as Jaron used a drinking glass to cut out more circles from the dough. What was she supposed to do now? How did this love business work? She was pretty sure she shouldn’t say anything to Jaron in front of Maureen. And the rest of the time, she barely saw him.

  And even when she did get the opportunity, what would he say back?

  * * *

  AT LEAST HE’D FINALLY found something he could do in this rural world, Jaron thought.

  He put the latest cookie sheet of scones in the oven, glad he had an excuse to be in the kitchen and not out there on the front lines with the citizens of Cooper’s Corner. Not that his being in the kitchen had stopped Bonnie’s mother, the Tubb woman and a couple of others from coming to see him in action. Phyllis had basked in the glory of having a future son-in-law who could bake.

  Jaron hadn’t even known he remembered how to bake these. The event had been a day-long feast for charity, with different chefs and celebrities preparing each course of every meal. He’d drawn tea, and counted himself lucky. A friend had had to hack at chickens and was now a vegetarian.

/>   Bonnie had seemed stunned at his proficiency, but in a good way. He wondered if Mr. Muscles upstairs knew how to bake anything.

  Jaron wanted Bonnie to see him good at something. She was good at what she did, even if what she did was plumbing. But there was also her respect for the integrity of old buildings. He’d been surprised at her extensive research library and the sheer volume of notes that hinted at the number of vintage fixtures she’d installed. He’d read some of those notes and seen how she analyzed the ornamentation, suggesting complementary designs for the rest of the bathroom. Her work was as much art as anything that had been in Sydney’s gallery.

  The plumber as artist—who’d have thought it? His mother and Cokie, that’s who.

  On the heels of his thoughts, Bonnie came into the kitchen carrying cups and plates. “Hey, you’re a hit again.”

  “Just until the next rumor starts.”

  “The current rumor is that I’m a lucky girl.” Bonnie ran a sinkful of sudsy water. “We’re running out of dishes.”

  Maureen came in with another tray. “Thanks, Bonnie. Everybody is here today.” She stacked the plates and cups on the counter beside Bonnie.

  “Aunt Maureen!” Keegan’s voice sounded outside the kitchen.

  “That can’t be good,” Maureen murmured.

  He burst through the door. “Your toilet is overflowing and there’s water all over!”

  “My cue.” Bonnie dried her hands and ran off.

  “I’d better see where the girls are.” Maureen was right behind Bonnie.

  So. That left Jaron in charge. He liked being in charge. Not just anyone could take command on a moment’s notice. Seth probably couldn’t have.

  After finishing the dishes, Jaron loaded a tray with the batch of scones fresh from the oven and went forth to charm the citizens of Cooper’s Corner once more. Only there were just a few people left in the gathering room. When Jaron didn’t recognize any of them, he figured they were guests. He offered them scones, then impulsively decided to bring a couple to Bonnie.