Jesse's Girl (Bishop Family Book 2)

by Brooke St. James

  "I think that's smart," I said. "You're gonna have scouts at the game."

  "Good. So do you think you and Rebecca could get a ride home with your cousin? I saw he was here. Kevin's only got room for four, and two other guys are already riding with him."

  I paused and looked around, feeling totally thrown off by the fact that I apparently had no ride. Rebecca was on the dance floor, dancing with one of our friends she recognized from school. It sunk in that Barrett had just asked me to get a ride home with Jesse and Tammy, so I turned to look at them. They were looking at each other when I caught sight of them, and I felt desperate to stop him from smiling at her like that.

  "Sure," I said. "We'll ride with Jesse." Truth was, I had no idea if we'd be able to ride with him. Plus, there were at least three other people at the reception that I would ask for a ride before I asked Jesse.

  Barrett left with his friends.

  A whole group of basketball players left at the same time, and I smelled mischief in the air, but I didn't say anything. I talked to Rebecca and told her we were on our own for a ride home. She walked with me to the place where Jesse was standing with Tammy and some of their friends.

  Jesse was facing the opposite direction, so he didn't see me approach. Tammy gestured towards me when she saw that I was planning on talking to them, and Jesse turned.

  "Hey," I said.

  "Hey," he returned, glancing behind me as if expecting to see Barrett.

  "He had to leave with one of his friends," I said. "Hey, I see a couple of my other friends, but I was just wondering when you guys were leaving."

  "Do you need a ride?" Jesse asked.

  "Not if you don't have room or whatever. I see some other people I could ask."

  Jesse glanced around as if looking for Barrett again. He was definitely annoyed. "You mean that guy brought you here and left you here without a ride? He drove you here and left without you?"

  I shrugged. "We rode here with one of his friends, and I wasn't interested in riding back with him, anyway." I looked directly at Tammy when I said the last part of that sentence, but she just stared at me like she didn't know what I was talking about. "Tyler," I said, still looking at her and feeling brave. "We rode with Tyler."

  I remembered the way she drank and flirted with Tyler in the hall, but she just stood there and stared at me like I had lost my mind.

  "And they left without you?" Jesse asked, shaking his head as if he just couldn't believe it. His green eyes stood out against his dark suit. He had on his glasses, and they perfectly framed his eyes.

  "It's really no big deal," I said, looking away from his gaze before meeting it again. "I just wanted to see what time you guys were leaving."

  "You can give them a ride home, but I'm staying here," Tammy said. "You can go do it as long you come back and pick me up."

  "You sure?" he asked.

  "No, no, no," I said. "I see other people I could ask. I just thought maybe if y'all were leaving."

  "I'll take you," Jesse said. "I don't mind."

  "He doesn't mind," Tammy said, stretching up to kiss his cheek.

  "Just let me know when you're ready," he said to me.

  "I'm ready when you are," I said. "Barrett's already gone, and I really don't know either of these people.

  "Oh, Kara's so great!" Tammy said, talking about Randall's new wife. "She's the sweetest person you'll ever meet."

  I smiled at her. "I'm sure she is."

  I did not like her. It was incredibly difficult for me not to spill my guts about what I had seen in the hallway. I resisted the urge to call her out, mostly because I knew she'd deny it.

  We walked to the parking lot and got in Jesse's truck. He had a new Chevy. I had seen it but had never ridden in it. There was a bench seat, so I climbed in first, taking the spot next to Jesse while Rebecca sat by the window.

  "Do you mind if I play the radio?" I asked.

  Jesse didn't bother answering because I didn't wait for him to. I reached out and switched on the radio, which was tuned to a station playing the blues. I wasn't surprised because that's what he'd been raised around.

  "Sounds like your mom," I said.

  "Jane, too," he said.

  I nodded as I settled back into the middle seat. Jesse had changed positions while I was leaning forward to turn on the radio, and I accidently leaned back on his arm. He moved so I could adjust, but he left his arm in a relaxed position that made contact with mine. I made my movements carefully so as not to fully break contact with him.

  It was pitiful how utterly affected I was by touching him. It was my arm brushing against his in the front seat of a pickup truck, for crying out loud, and my stomach was tied in a thousand knots because of it. He wasn't touching me intentionally, but he certainly wasn't making the effort to move his arm, either. I sat there as he drove, feeling all sorts of butterflies.

  We talked about the wedding and the fact that the whole basketball team showed up at the reception unexpectedly. Jesse asked me more about what I was going to be doing for the family business, and I elaborated on that.

  We were about a mile from my apartment when I did something crazy. Sure, I was currently sitting next to him. But at the rate we had been going during the past several years, this was as close as I would get for a while. I knew I would be working at the shop, but I had no idea when I would be in this proximity again. It was for this reason that I justified doing that crazy thing.

  It started with me leaning against him to rest my head on his shoulder. The contact seemed very innocent and cousin-like until Jesse reached up and put his hand right on the side of my face, securing it to his shoulder. Maybe he meant that in an innocent way, too, but it caused my heart to beat ever so rapidly.

  His hand, warm and big, and soft yet callused, wrapped around my cheek, gently holding me. It caused an ache to happen in my body the likes of which I had never experienced. I was absolutely stricken by Jesse. Totally lovestruck.

  As if it were a normal thing to do, I put my hand onto his, holding it in place on my cheek. We rode like that for the next minute or two, staring at the road with our hands intertwined, until we pulled up at my apartment.

  I got out of the truck right behind Rebecca. I looked over the seat and told Jesse goodbye, thanks, and that I would see him the following week at the shop. He offered to get out to walk us to the door, but I stopped him since our apartment was clearly visible from the truck, and he could watch us go inside.

  Jesse waited until we were inside the apartment with the door closed before he pulled away—I saw his headlights begin to move after we were safe inside.

  "What was that?" Rebecca asked.

  "What was what?" I asked, taking my shoes off and flexing my aching feet.

  "In the truck," she said, taking hers off as well. "With your cousin. Wasn't that your cousin?"

  I hesitated, but then smiled and shrugged nonchalantly as I headed toward my bedroom. "Yep," I said. "But not my real cousin. He's so sweet for giving us a ride home."

  "Is that Jane's brother?" she asked.

  I nodded. "Her twin."

  Rebecca had met Jane several times because sometimes I kept Shelby at our apartment rather than Jane's.

  "They don't look like twins," she said.

  "You don't think so?" I asked absentmindedly.

  As we talked, we headed across our small living room to the hallway that led to our bedrooms. Neither of us discussed the fact that we were going to change; we both just assumed we would get out of our dresses and head to our rooms.

  "Nope," she said. "I would have never even guessed they were siblings much less twins."

  "I think they look alike," I said. "I can see it."

  She shrugged. "What's up with him holding your hand like that?" she asked.

  "He didn't hold my hand," I said, feeling all sorts of delightful feelings at the fact that we were obvious enough for her to bring it up.

  "In the truck," she said. "I glanced over, and you two were hold
ing hands."

  "No we weren't," I said.

  She shrugged as if to say that she knew I was withholding information, but she was willing to let me off the hook.

  "He's really fine," she said. "I wouldn't blame you for flirting with him. I see how he got that Tammy girl to go out with him."

  "First of all, he's not my real cousin, and what's that supposed to mean about Tammy?"

  "It means I see how he got that supermodel looking girl to go out with him. He's fine. Like Tom Cruise."

  "He does not look like Tom Cruise," I said.

  "He's as fine as Tom Cruise," she said.

  "Yeah, but they don't look alike. And that girl's not a supermodel. I don't even think she's all that."

  Rebecca smiled at me and pointed at my chest. "You don't like her," she said.

  "You're right, I don't. She doesn't deserve Jesse." My tone was so serious that Rebecca glanced at me with an expression that said she thought I was being a little intense. "I saw her getting wasted with Tyler in the hallway. Then she kissed him right before she went out there with Jesse again."

  "She kissed him?" Rebecca asked in shock. "You saw your cousin's girlfriend kiss someone else? Why didn't you tell him?"

  I let my shoulders slump because I didn't know the answer to that question. "I don't know," I said. "I guess I thought she would just deny it, and it would look like I was just trying to break them up."

  "But you kind of are," she assumed, having no idea how accurate she was.

  Chapter 6

  In addition to my new project with Bishop Motorcycles, I was working and going to school full-time. I was completely exhausted after my first week of research at Bishop. In hindsight, maybe I should have waited until after finals to get started on this personal project, but I had always been impulsive, and once the business venture idea hit me, it was impossible to stop myself from pushing forward with it.

  I was actually a bit thankful that Barrett's last game of the season was way out-of-state because I was too tired to go to it if it had been anywhere close by.

  It was now Saturday, and I had been in the conference room at Bishop Motorcycles all morning. I had been in and out all week, but I wasn't even close to being done with some goals I had for the week, so I went back on Saturday.

  The showroom was open, and there were some employees on the premises, but it was nowhere nearly as busy back in the offices as it was Monday through Friday. It was now three in the afternoon, and I had been in the back all day and had hardly been noticed or interrupted.

  Max was one of Uncle Michael's best friends who had been with the business since the very beginning. He loved the company and worked a lot, so it made sense that he would be there on a Saturday. He had come in a couple of hours before and given me half of a sandwich, which was a lifesaver since I didn't think about bringing lunch and was starving.

  "Still here?" Max asked peeking his head in later that afternoon.

  "Yes sir." I dropped my pencil and stretched, smiling at him.

  "You should probably stop staring at paperwork for a little bit." He nudged his head in the direction of the shop. "Come on in there and get your hands dirty. I'm working on an old bike—one of Michael's first models from up in Detroit. You should come help me out."

  I smiled. I had grown up around the garage with my dad and had fond memories of assisting—at least I thought of it as assisting. Looking back, I probably did more plundering than actual assisting, but I had happy memories of being in the garage either way.

  Max smiled and shrugged. "Betty's got some women over at the house playing bridge this afternoon," he said. "I'll be working on that bike for the next few hours. If you need a change of scenery, come see me."

  I looked down at my attire, which could easily be rearranged to apply more to the garage. I smiled at him. "I'd love to, actually," I said. "Barrett's playing in North Carolina tonight, and I don't know how much more of this stuff I can stand." I glanced down at the papers, which were spread out on the table in front of me. "I don't want to start getting careless."

  Max patted at the door and shot me a kind smile. "I'll be in there. Just come in whenever you finish up."

  I thanked him and almost instantly started wrapping up my work.

  I spent the next three hours re-learning the ropes in the garage with Max. He was a patient instructor, who seemed to enjoy teaching me the basics. I had grown up around the garage, but I somehow never really took in what they were doing. I learned more in those three hours with Max than I had in all the previous years I'd been hanging around up there.

  I had on jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt when I went in to work that morning, but it was warm in the garage, so I had shed the T-shirt since I had a tank top underneath.

  While we were working, I had to get on the ground to reach a part, and when I did, Max threw me a bandana to tie around my head. I made a do-rag out of it, which was still currently in my hair.

  I was dirty and greasy, and I had been handling tools and parts and learning a ton for the past few hours. The radio was playing rock-and-roll music, and Max and I were having some good, clean, motorcycle-building fun.

  "You're such a natural," Max said.

  "You're a great teacher," I said. "Thank you for coming in there to get me. This has been such a welcome change after staring at numbers all week."

  "You should see yourself," Max said, grinning as he took a bite of whatever he had just taken out of his lunch box. "You look like Ivy when Michael first started teaching her about motorcycles. She used to get it all over her face like that."

  I touched my cheek. "I have it all over my face?" I asked. "What is it? Grease?" I was holding a dirty towel and a crescent wrench, and I tried unsuccessfully to see my face in the silver surface of the wrench.

  "The bike's got a mirror attached to it," Max said, smiling when he saw me doing that.

  I glanced at him, and he held out the Tupperware container. "Betty sent some food."

  I smiled and shook my head before standing to look at myself in the mirror. I was still in motion and was just about to tell Max that I couldn't possibly take his food after he had already fed me lunch, but before I could get the words out of my mouth, I heard a loud police siren.

  "Intruder alert! Intruder alert!" Elvis called before making the loud siren noise three more times.

  The bird had said a few things to us since we'd been in the garage, but this outburst was loud and sudden, and it startled me. I glanced at Max who was laughing at my reaction and the fact that the bird did that in the first place.

  "I know you're in here, Max, I see your truck," Jesse called from the door.

  We couldn’t see him from where we were, but Elvis's warning was unmistakable, and I knew his voice.

  "You better watch out for what I teach him to do when you come in…" Jesse trailed off when he came far enough into the room to see me and take in the scene.

  Max and I had music playing, and both of us were standing around the old bike, which was partially taken-apart. Jesse had been smiling when he came in and was making the statement about teaching the bird something, but his expression changed to a more serious one as he stopped to regard us. I watched as he walked toward us with a look of growing concern.

  "What are y'all doing? Why are y'all in here?"

  My heart raced, and I started thinking of all the things I wanted to do right then including check my own appearance in the mirror. All I could do, however, was stand there being speechless.

  Max reached over and turned down the music before holding out the plastic container in Jesse's direction. "Want some?" he asked. "Betty made 'em."

  Jesse shook his head. "No thanks."

  Max held the container out to me, and just because I thought it might push Jesse's buttons, I reached out and took one, popping it into my mouth. "Thank you," I said. It was some little bite-size piece of finger-food Betty had prepared for her bridge game, and I chewed it with a thankful smile and nod aimed at Max.

&n
bsp; "What are y'all doing here?" Jesse asked. He stared at me and then Max, looking somewhat uncomfortable with our presence in the garage.

  "I came up here to work on this old bike," Max explained. "It's the one your dad found last week. Rose had been back in the office all day, so she decided to come help me out."

  Jesse continued to take everything in, staring at me with a look of caution or confusion, or both. "Since when are you coming here to build bikes?" he asked.

  I let out a nervous laugh at his seriousness.

  "Seriously, I thought you were in the math department, Rose." He gestured to the hallway that led to the offices. "I thought you we're going to be back there in the office doing math stuff the whole time."

  I gave him a challenging, sideways glare. "I quite like working on motorcycles," I said.

  "And she's great at it, too," Max said. He reached out and rubbed my head. "A natural."

  We'd been having fun and cutting up for the past few hours, and I could see that our situation annoyed Jesse. I didn't know what about it annoyed him, but something did—I could see it in the way the muscles in his jaw flexed, indicating that he was clinching his teeth.

  He stared straight at me with those piercing green eyes. "I thought you said you were gonna be in the back doing math," he said.

  He seemed totally serious, and I felt vulnerable under his scrutiny. "I was. I am. Max just saw that I'd been back there all day, and he tried to be nice by asking me if I—"

  "It's no skin off your back if she helps me out in here," Max said to Jesse.

  Jesse turned to walk off, headed toward his own workstation. "Yes, it is skin off my back," he said. "She said she was going to be back there doing math. I don't want her in here looking like that."

  We still had music playing, and Jesse trailed off as he walked away, but there was no mistaking what he said. I glanced at Max who shrugged as if he hadn't really heard what he said. "Somebody's grumpy," Max mumbled with wide eyes. He held the container in front of me again, and I took a bite of the food despite not being hungry.

  I wanted to say something, but I was totally thrown off. My heart was beating like crazy and maybe a little broken, too. "I guess I probably should be going," I said.