Going for Broke: Oakland Hills Friends to Lovers Romantic Comedy (Friends with Benefits)
Page 8
“Of course it is.”
Sighing loudly, she bent over to the pile of tools Marco had carried in, found the clippers and shears, and began striding away. “Don’t get cocky. This is still my house.”
He watched her go, wondering if he’d played that right or wrong. If he’d been too serious, she might’ve told him to get lost. Maybe if he joked about what he wanted to do with her, to her, on her, she’d ignore him until it was too late.
Until she forgot why she was pushing him away.
He grabbed a crowbar and sauntered over to the corner of ragged carpeting near the front door, a grin on his face.
Chapter 16
Billie was knee-deep in thorny lemon tree branches when she heard Jane’s voice calling for her.
“I’m out in the side yard!” Billie shouted. About time Jane showed up to help. Just because she was contributing more money didn’t mean she couldn’t help clip the—
And then she remembered.
Ian was here.
F-word. And that’s how she said it inside her head, too: eff-word. Eff, eff, eff.
She’d meant to tell Jane that Ian was helping out at the house. Hiding him completely would’ve been impossible, so she’d intended to warn her. But then she forgot, probably because of the mess of emotions swirling around in her brain. Precisely the type of brain that might make a person fail algebra three times in high school.
She wiggled around to the back of the tree, hoping to buy some time. A three-inch thorn tore a ragged line down her forearm, but she pressed on. Blood was better than emotional torture.
“Where are you?” Jane called.
For a moment, Billie thought about not answering. She bent her knees a little to reduce her visible surface area.
“Are you stuck?” Jane asked, her voice getting closer.
It was no use. She’d have to face the firing squad. “Sorry, lots of thorns. Just a second.” Billie tugged the sleeves down her arms, feeling the blood smear along the fabric, and pushed her way out again. A long branch caught on her sock, tripping her, and she fell to her hands and knees at her big sister’s feet.
An appropriate posture, given the situation. For Jane to find Ian here was bad enough, but to find him without any warning that he might be here…
Billie stayed on the ground, digging her fingers into small clumps of earth as she cowered. Her sister wore black-and-white ballet flats with tiny silver bows on the toes. Knowing Jane, these were her work shoes. She probably wore them to exercise on the elliptical. Cleaned her bathroom in them.
“Are you hurt?” Jane asked.
Billie tried to decipher the tone in Jane’s voice. Irritable? Furious? Disappointed? Heartbroken? She couldn’t tell. Jane was hard to read, even for Billie, her closest sister.
“Just tired,” Billie said with an exaggerated exhalation as she staggered to her feet. Playing for sympathy might help. Pretending to only just then notice her injured arm, she gasped and pulled back her sleeve, psyched to see the blood had smeared a two-by-ten-inch streak across her skin, making it look much worse than it actually was.
Little sisters had to use all the tools they had. Especially when their big sisters were perfect.
“Oh my God,” Jane said. “What happened?”
“Must’ve been the thorns.” Billie sighed again. “I’ve been out here for hours. There’s just so much to do.”
“Let’s get you inside and clean that up.” Jane turned and led the way to the kitchen, not bothering to pause and confirm that Billie was following. Inside, she went to the sink and ran the hot water.
“It’s nothing,” Billie said. “Just a scratch.”
“God knows what germs are lurking around here. Here, put your arm under the water.”
Billie did as instructed. It was scalding hot, and she cried out.
“Careful,” Jane said. Her tone was unsympathetic.
Shooting her a suspicious glance, Billie turned down the temperature. As she soaped up her shallow wound, she chewed her lip, trying to think of a good introduction. “Did you meet Shawn and Marco?”
“Sure I did,” Jane said. “My ex-boyfriend introduced us.”
Billie turned off the water and closed her eyes.
“What a coincidence that he just happened to be driving by,” Jane said flatly.
“What?”
“And then happened to see you in the yard so he stopped and you guys got talking and he just happened to have two beefy young men ready to carry heavy things.” Jane handed her a paper towel. “Pat gently, don’t rub.”
“I asked him,” Billie said. “Ian. I asked him to help.”
“You don’t say.” The sarcasm was sharp enough to cut her arm clean off.
“Don’t be like that.”
“You should’ve told me,” Jane said.
“I’m afraid of you. You’re scary.” Billie grabbed her sister’s hand and put it over her heart. “Feel that? It’s totally pounding. I’m still fighting the urge to run.”
“Don’t bother,” Jane said, pulling free. “I’d catch you.” And she always did, that was true. She was the marathon type. Anything with a finish line and a prize, Jane was all over it.
“He was just going to walk through the house with me once, give me his impressions, make a few educated guesses about repairs, that’s it,” Billie said.
“You really believed that would be enough for him?”
Billie’s heart fell through her pelvis, down her leg, and crawled into her heel, desperate to reach the floor. Did Jane suspect he’d kissed her? That he’d wanted to?
“I don’t know, why wouldn’t it be?” Billie asked, her voice sounding funny to her own ears. “Who’d want to spend the next million weekends of their life helping clean out an old cat lady’s house?”
“Ian Cooper. Come on, you know him. Remember when he retiled Mom’s bathroom?”
Billie managed to take a complete breath. It was all right. Jane hadn’t meant anything sexual.
“He was in college then,” Billie said. “He probably needed the money. But now he’s rich and I’m not paying him a penny.”
“He’s never been motivated by money. You must know that. He just loves getting his hands dirty.”
Billie dabbed at the droplets of blood on her arm, afraid of the look she might have on her face. “I told him we didn’t need him. I did. But he overpowered me.”
Jane snorted. “I bet.”
Feeling herself flush, Billie turned her back on her sister and began arranging her half-dozen tea canisters on the counter into a pyramid. If Jane was this angry about him hauling garbage and removing carpeting, how would she feel about that kiss? Or the way Billie hadn’t stopped him?
“I’ll send him home,” Billie said, moving toward the door.
Chapter 17
“Hold on,” Jane said. “He’s here. The damage has already been done.”
Oh God. Not nearly. “So you do want to let him get involved?”
“I’m not going to walk over there and make a scene when he’s in the middle of something,” Jane said. “You shouldn’t have hidden things from me, but it would be stupid to barge in right now and send everyone home. What’s he paying those guys, do you know?”
Billie was glad she finally had an answer for that. “Investment advice. He’s their guru.”
One eyebrow arched on Jane’s smooth, round forehead. “They look more like MMA fighters than bankers.” She lowered her voice to a throaty purr. “Especially the big one.”
“Easy, cougar. I think they’re still in college.”
Jane dug a hand into the bag on the counter and withdrew a chunk of a sesame bagel. “You’re right. Not my type. Andrew is the love of my life. I was just kidding.” She nibbled few seeds off the bagel. “Not my type,” she mumbled.
It was Billie’s turn to snort. Andrew was about as charming as an earwig on an ice cream cone. If Jane was type A, Andrew was type Z—you’d have to circle back to the end of the alphabet to do his
anal-retentive, pedantic personality justice. One of these days, hopefully soon, Jane would admit she didn’t like him very much either.
Jane shoved the bagel into her mouth, shaking her head, and only then got out the knife and cream cheese. She smeared a dollop of cream cheese on her finger and licked it off.
“It has the same calories when you eat it separately,” Billie said.
“Quiet. You’re still in the doghouse.”
“Speaking of which, at least she didn’t have any of those. Dogs, I mean. It would raise the yuck to a whole new level.”
Jane wrinkled her nose. “I wonder how long it’ll take to get rid of that smell.”
“It’s much better than it was.” Billie was disappointed Jane could still detect an odor. “Look on the bright side. Because Ian is here today with Shawn and Marco, the carpets will be gone. I couldn’t have done it by myself.”
Chewing, Jane pondered her feet in the cute ballet flats with the tiny silver bows. Her tone became apologetic. “It’s not like I expected you to do all of this yourself. I was going to hire people to help.”
“I thought you should save your money for the big things.”
Jane looked up. “I have to admit it’s why I didn’t kick them out the second I got here.” Smirking mischievously, she lowered her voice. “Especially after I met Marco.”
“I can find out if he’s single,” Billie said. It would be great if she got interested in a new man, even if he was barely in his twenties.
“Of course not.”
“He might be.”
“I mean, of course you’re not going to find out,” Jane said, laughing. “Oh man. I wish I’d known what I was walking into this morning. I would’ve worn—” She cut herself off.
“A dress?” Billie asked.
“Shut up.”
“I couldn’t help but notice you tend to wear a dress whenever…”
“Whenever what?”
Billie was in enough trouble as it was, so she shrugged. “Whenever you’re lonely.”
“I wish I were lonely,” Jane muttered. “But the damn man never leaves the house.”
It was a running joke that Andrew had no friends or hobbies. “Why don’t you break up with him? Please?”
Jane glanced toward the front of the house, where the sound of ripping carpet continued. “He’s good for me.”
Billie could tell she was thinking about Ian. How could any man compete with Ian? “You must know you can do better than Andrew.”
Jane licked the cream cheese knife, sighing. “Can I?” she asked softly.
Seeing the nostalgic longing in her sister’s eyes, Billie began chewing her thumbnail, hating herself. How could she have let Ian kiss her last night? She’d never be able to tell Jane about it without breaking her heart completely. Jane wanted to forget him, but even after what he’d done, she couldn’t bear to be near him without longing for the past.
But what had he actually done that was so bad? Maybe if Billie knew exactly what that was, she’d be so horrified and angry, she’d have the willpower to push him away.
Stepping within arm’s reach, Billie lowered her voice to a whisper. “What happened?” she asked. “Back in high school. What did he do to you? You’ve never said, you never want to talk about—”
Jane turned around and began looking through the cupboards. “Do you have any good coffee around here?”
“Come on, Jane. Please? It might make you feel b—”
“And don’t offer me tea. I don’t care what country it came from or how much it cost, it isn’t coffee,” Jane said.
Billie sighed. Her sister was as stubborn as a two-year-old. She’d never talk about anything she didn’t want to. “I made coffee earlier, but it’s probably gone by now.”
“Shame.” Jane found a glass and went over to the water dispenser on the fridge. “So, I thought we’d make a budget. First we’ll need to have an inspector over, see what big stuff has to be done.”
“Ian thinks the roof is all right,” Billie said, smoothing the bandage over her arm. Later, after a glass of wine or two, she’d try again to get Jane to open up. “He thinks anything on the outside is probably fine. As long as Grammy didn’t have to let workmen into the house.”
“I hope he’s right,” Jane said. “He so often is.”
She sounded so depressed. Billie made a decision. “Tell you what. We let him finish up today, but then we tell him to get lost.” She’d avoid trouble by avoiding him completely. Sometimes abstinence was the only practical approach.
“But you pointed out we need to save our money for the big things,” Jane said.
“Once the debris box and storage unit are full, we’ll thank all of them for their service and that’ll be it,” Billie said. “Then you and I can talk about what to do next.”
“No, I think we should take advantage of Ian’s expertise.”
Had she really just thought her sister was logical? “But you were just getting upset about me doing that.”
“Only because you didn’t tell me,” Jane said. “But now that he’s here, we might as well exploit him and all of his talents.”
Ian strode into the kitchen, a tool belt slung low on his hips. “That’s just what I was telling Billie last night.” He glanced at her over his shoulder as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. Muscles bulged, sweat glistened, hormones fumed. “Isn’t that right?”
Chapter 18
As he washed his hands in the sink, Ian wondered what else the sisters had said about him. He’d overheard the last few lines of conversation, which told him they’d been arguing about him being there, and figured it was best if he faced the controversy personally.
“Like I told Billie,” he began, turning around and shaking off his wet hands, “this is like a hobby for me. Exercise. A break from business.”
“What’s wrong with the gym?” Billie asked.
Jane touched her arm. “No, it’s all right. I said it’s all right.”
“I’m just asking,” Billie said.
He ripped off a paper towel from the roll and wiped his hands, then his face. He could feel bits of decaying carpeting, dust, and cat hair sticking to his skin. But the floors were now bare, and Shawn and Marco had just left for the day. “Working out at a gym is a waste of energy. If I’m going to lift heavy things, I’d rather those things needed to be lifted for some reason other than strengthening my muscles.” To his amusement, he noticed Billie’s gaze flicker down his body.
He propped his hands on his hips, watching her gaze take another journey over him.
“Maybe we should charge you,” Jane said. “Like the health club would.”
Billie jumped in with a fake laugh, trying to ease the tension. “We were just thinking you’ve done enough. More than enough. After today—”
“You know what? I think Ian and I need to go for a walk,” Jane said, nodding her head at him. “We can catch up on old times. What do you say?”
“Excellent idea,” he said, disposing of his paper towel on the way out to the hallway. It would be impossible to really talk to Jane when Billie was there. “Let’s go.”
Billie made some kind of noise in protest, but Jane was soon at his heels. They walked out the front door to the driveway, where the debris box and storage unit sat with their loads. Better out than in, he thought. The house had a long way to go, but getting the junk out and the floors stripped was a massive improvement.
Jane walked over to the green box and stood there, looking down at the rolls of shredded, decayed carpeting. “First of all, thank you for doing this today,” she said. “Our dad begged Grammy to let him replace the carpeting, but she refused. He even offered to do it himself, without any strangers helping, but she’d clam up, stop answering the phone, lock the doors, avoid us for months. What could we do?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
She glanced at him. “Andrew thought we should’ve done it when she went to the doctor a few months ago. Abduct her for the day. No
t ask, just do it. But we didn’t want to upset her.”
Ian thought Andrew sounded like an asshole. “Who’s Andrew?”
“My boyfriend. I live with him.”
He nodded. So far, this was the longest conversation he’d had with Jane in over ten years.
“I take it you’re not seeing anyone?” she asked.
He glanced back at the house and thought he saw a flicker of movement at the window. “Let’s walk. It’s a lot nicer than staring at garbage,” he said.
Jane looked over at the window. “Billie,” she said, shaking her head. “Just like old times.”
He didn’t want to think about old times. He wanted to make new ones.
They headed up the street toward the huge regional park less than a block away. One of his favorite trails was in that park, winding up through redwoods to a ridge with a fantastic view of the entire Bay Area. The location was unbeatable. He lived down in Emeryville because it was an easy stroll to the office, but he figured he’d move up here eventually.
“Why did you assume I’m not seeing anyone?” he asked.
“No reason. Just asking.”
“You said, ‘I take it.’ Why did you say that?”
“Oh, come on,” she said.
Had Billie told her about the kiss yesterday? He took a few steps without speaking. “No. I’m not seeing anyone.”
“Do you ever?”
“What do you mean, ever?” he asked. Was she suggesting he’d been celibate since they’d dated?
“I was wondering if you ever got serious,” she said. “Or if you still sleep around like you did in college.”
His steps faltered. “How do you know what I did in college?”
She shrugged. “You developed quite a reputation. Word gets around.”
“Marquita Hansen told you.” A classmate of theirs who’d gone to MIT with him. Unfortunately, he’d slept with her, as well as several other women in his freshman dorm. He’d had his own way of dealing with a breakup.