by J. A. Coffey
Jeremy tapped his lip in thought. "I'd say ten miles."
"Perfect." Darius led Jeremy to his BMW and they got in. "I have a car in storage at Ollie's that I think she'll love. We're going to go there first." He looked over. "Think we have time?"
An uneasy look crossed Jeremy's face, and he ventured, "She's not really into sports cars, I think you should know. A Corvette or Lamborghini really isn't going to make her hot for you."
"Even better." He smiled at Jeremy with gratitude and said, "Thanks for the tip."
It would be his first drive to Ollie's in almost a year. Some part of him recoiled at the thought of walking through that massive house, knowing it would be empty. So this would be his first opportunity to make sure no one had rammed through the security gate or broken any windows or any number of things that could happen to an unoccupied home.
When they got there, Darius pushed his code in the keypad by the gate and waited while they creaked open. They rolled up the semi-circle driveway, then around to the carriage house out back. Another code and the door rolled up smoothly, making Jeremy half laugh, half gasp. "She will love this."
"Fully restored 1910 Ford Model T Touring car. Extremely rare."
"Can I sit up front with you?" He eyeballed the bench seat, then turned to inspect the stagecoach-like cab for passengers. "I'd feel like I'm too good to be seen with you if I ride back there."
Darius climbed onto the bench. "As long as you behave."
Jeremy climbed up beside him and stuck out his tongue. "Well, where's the fun in that?"
Chapter Eight
"Okay, guys," Jess wiped her hands on her "Kiss the Cook" apron and beamed. "The meatloaf will be ready in three minutes, the asparagus in five." She patted the chair at the foot of the table. "Arthur, you'll be here. Faith, I'm squishing you in the corner, but only because you're so tiny."
"No," Duncan corrected. "It's because she's the newbie. Let her suffer like I had to." His thick, rich voice made everyone laugh.
The two middle chairs she patted. "Bob and Brandy, your first decision as newlyweds is to determine who sits where. Duke it out." But instead they made kissy faces at each other.
Jess smiled. Having everyone in her home brought it to life. The deep red curtains seemed brighter; the faint pink walls glowed with sunset warmth. And the slanting sun made her white tablecloth just blaze.
This was exactly what she needed to calm down.
Awooga. Awooga.
Everyone stopped talking and looked at each other.
"Was that coming from my driveway?"
Faith, nearest the window, peered out. "It's one of those crank-up cars." She darted a wicked glance at Jess. "And Jeremy and Mr. Huggybear are both in it."
She had started towards the door on "crank-up" and froze on "Huggybear." "Darius? He brought Darius?"
"Is there another Mr. Huggybear?" Duncan asked.
Brandy peered out. "It's certainly not Robert."
"Come on," Arthur said and stood up, as usual the voice of reason. "We can't not go out and at least acknowledge that classic beauty."
Duncan grinned and quipped, "Especially not after Jeremy went through so much trouble to bring him here."
Everyone laughed. Except Jess.
She felt her face burn up. "Smart ass." She wiped her hands on her apron and marched out the door.
Darius hopped down, wobbling a grin and sweeping his free arm at the car. "Isn't she grand?" Jess noted his other arm held an armful of gorgeous calla lilies.
It smacked of the night they met.
Her heart yammered away, and Jess tried to convince her erratic organ it was only a car. And some flowers. For the table. She stepped near, shoving Jeremy back into the car- by his face- when she caught his arrogant sanctimonious grin.
"Darius begged to come," he stage-whispered.
"Can it," Jess replied, turning to face Darius. "Sorry about him."
Darius just smiled his heart-stopping smile, which was good, because her heart needed to slow down before it burst. "Thought you'd get a kick out of this." He offered her his hand, and Jess faltered a moment before letting him help her into the driver's seat.
His warm fingers lingered a moment too long for mere assistance, and she knew she should have tugged away at least two seconds before she did.
Her stomach fluttered with an intensity previously unbeknownst to her. Rattled to her core, she spun and growled, "Beat it," to Jeremy, and he stuck out his tongue and dropped to the ground.
Darius seemed completely composed as he tutored her yet again. "It's one of the first cars with left-sided steering."
"Look at this wood grain." Awe filled Jess as she stroked the dashboard. "Two whole gauges, huh?"
He touched the lever at her knee. "Here's the brake," he pointed out, brushing against her thigh in the process. Her heart revved, and she watched his fingers curl. Aha. He was not immune. She watched his face flush and he stepped back.
She laughed at the strangeness of it, touched the handle, then gripped the wheel. "It's wood. They're both wood."
"No plastic back then."
Fueled by her own curiosity, she looked to the stagecoach- like back. "What's the convertible top made of?"
"Elk hide."
His tone was no-nonsense, but she had to goad him. "You're kidding."
"I never joke about antiques." His dark piercing gaze stopped her heart. Good God, between the racing and the stopping, this man was going to give her a coronary. Then his expression softened, and he read her apron. One eyebrow arched. "Kiss the Cook?"
Again her face heated. "It's only a suggestion." Her eyes darted around at her staff crooning over the Model T.
"Don't worry," he whispered. "I don't consider kissing a spectator sport." But he grinned as he took her hand and said, "I do like the suggestion, though."
Her heart started again.
With a vengeance.
"Darius, I-"
Two strong fingers landed on her lips. "If you don't want me here, Jess, I'll go."
Yes. He should go. Far away. In his awooga mobile, so her head could clear and her heart could resume a non-life-threatening pulse and her staff could help her brainstorm some way to win the estate without ruining Darius' life.
So she took a deep breath to break the bad news and said, "Nonsense. There's plenty for every-"
A shrill siren interrupted her false invitation.
Smoke alarm. "My meatloaf!" Jess burst from the Model T and raced into the kitchen, giving her overtaxed heart a reasonable cardio workout.
The magnetic clip holding the potholders rattled to the floor as Jess yanked them down from the overhead vent and snatched her food from the oven.
The top had blackened, but only just. As for the asparagus, another minute and it would have boiled dry.
Thank God she hadn't started glazing the onions yet. She was one spaz attack from burning the house down.
People filtered in, concern on their faces. "Everything okay?"
Jeremy said, "Chinese take-out is on speed dial."
"I will kill you, Jeremy, and sell your body to medical research." The pinprick of forthcoming tears burned her eyes, and she didn't know if it stemmed from spazzing in front of Darius or saying her regrettable words to Jer.
"Ow, Cookie. Harsh." But his tight-lipped smile looked like it was barely held in check.
He needed a good smack upside his head.
A potato lodged in her throat, probably suddenly missing from the pantry, and she gulped it down hard and blinked furtively. She could not, would not, cry in front of Darius.
With extraordinary diligence and attention she scraped off the char into the sink.
Darius stepped near, looking around her kitchen. On some level she hoped he liked it, although it was deeply country, with nothing stainless steel, as she was sure he owned. Still, her yellow cupboards with glass doors were neatly lined with beautiful pieces, and her cherry red replica stove looked like it came out of the 1800s, with a
flip-top cabinet on top and the actual oven hidden behind three false cupboards below. It was her prize appliance at over seven grand.
Jess lowered herself even more over her casserole pan, but his concern seemed genuine when he came to her side. "Anything I can help- ow." He raised a foot and claimed the magnetic clip she had lost. "Yours?"
"Yeah." Without meeting his eyes she grabbed it and slapped it on the overhead vent and continued scraping bits of char from her meal. After draining the asparagus, she collected the Hollandaise sauce from the micro, where it had been kept warm, thankfully.
Darius remained at her side, watching as she sniffed different spices and mixed them into the ketchup for dipping.
He cocked his hip against the counter, fully at ease in her home. "Now I've seen it all. Spiced ketchup?"
She tugged her lip into her mouth. He probably had never cooked a thing in his life. Probably ate out at five-star restaurants daily or had his own personal chef on standby.
She did not plan on cooking to impress this day. Today she had planned on cooking to de-stress.
Having Darius here, today, right now, countermanded that plan. She cleared her throat and ventured, "Jer? Will you grab the corner chair from the parlor for Darius?"
He stage-whispered so only they two could hear. "Sure, babe. I'll put him right between us. That way we'll each get a knee to squeeze." Apparently he had forgiven her scathing comment, giving her one less item overwhelming her thoughts.
Fighting the eye rolling and tongue lashing she wanted to retort with took immeasurable skill. Jess gave herself an Academy Award on the spot.
Until Darius touched her elbow, when all acting skills vanished. "I shouldn't be here, Jess. I'm going to head out." He squeezed, and her composure weakened.
"But-" she faced him, agreeing but knowing she should argue it. His eyes and expression were filled with a sad joy she could not explain. Was he truly happy to be here? Sad to go? She had to admit she liked the sight of him in her kitchen.
A lot.
"Here, Darius, just for you." Jeremy ambled through with an Eastlake chair and headed into the dining room.
Those sharp calculating eyes missed nothing, for Darius stood straighter and stated, "There was one just like that at Ollie's."
Without thinking Jess replied, "I know. At the base of the stairs."
Oops. Their eyes held. She felt fear take root in her expression and found she was unable to tear away her gaze. Darius took a deep slow breath and cupped her cheek in his palm. "I'll be in touch, Jess. I promise."
The crackle she felt from his fingers reflected in his eyes. He placed one gentle kiss on her brow and left.
And Jess wondered if crying into the ketchup would ruin the flavor.
*****
"Well, that was a disaster. With change." Jess scowled as she scraped the leftovers into the garbage.
"Nonsense, Cookie. Everything was fine." Jeremy collected the plates from her and lined them into the dishwasher, the clank of dishes soothing her tattered nerves.
Stooped shouldered, Jess hovered and stared into the trash. "I still can't believe you brought Darius here."
His light tone, usually so refreshing, now grated on her. "Smoochies, Sugarplum. You needed to see him again. And the coward left before all the fur went flying." He made a noise of disgust and swiped his foot across the floor.
Bristling, Jess straightened. "He did the right thing." Lower, she muttered, "At least one of you did."
Jeremy grabbed her shoulders and spun her and held her at arm's length. She watched his concern soften his features, and knew she couldn't stay mad at him. "I've never seen a man affect you so, Jess. You've carried a torch for this man for, what, eight years?"
"Ten." She grimaced and turned back to the garbage can.
"Precisely."
She dragged the fork across the plate over and over, even though the ketchup was mostly wiped away. "But why did you invite him? You knew we'd be talking about him."
He stilled her ongoing condiment attack with a soft hand to the wrist. "All the better for your staff to see he's a real human being and not some name on a sheet of paper." He took her plate and fork and closed them into the dishwasher and turned it on. "I also thought he should see the real you. The one everyone loves. Taste the food, kiss the cook. See how much you need the inheritance."
She tossed down her hand towel and squared off, feeling ire crawl along her spine. "By showing him I live in a hovel? Is that it?"
And now his arms were crossing. "Twenty-two hundred square feet on Elm St. is hardly a hovel, Jess. Try again."
Her hand lowered to rest on the towel, and she felt her shoulders slope back down. She was on one of the nicest streets in town. "I'm still in shock."
"My intentions were perfectly noble."
She snapped out the towel and hung it back on its bar. "And yet Darius was the one who acted nobly and left." She couldn't help that her words clipped out.
"Well, Sugar bear," Jeremy leaned against the machine. "Ooh, it's vibrating." He waggled his brows at her, giving her a jaunty grin. "That's the difference between us. My intentions were noble, but Darius is noble."
Her lips twitched, and she slid him an assessing gaze. "Don't confuse nobility with being noble. He did strand you here, you know."
He gasped, placed his hands on his hips and said, "That bitch."
Sending another sly look, Jess goaded him. "I'm sure it's not the first time a date has dumped you at the wayside."
"I know," he whined, stomping a foot in emphasis. "He wasn't even my date."
They shared a grin.
Anger gone, Jess indicated the living room. "Come on. Let's walk Undertow and I'll drive you back home."
"My car is at Darius'."
"Oh." She froze, not ready or willing to learn where he lived yet, or risk seeing him again so soon. His touch still burned her lips and cheek, and her right eyebrow smoldered yet from his kiss.
Ye gads.
An exquisite shiver overtook her, and it was far too easy to imagine what the rest of her skin would feel like had his lips lingered anywhere else. She felt her face heating and turned away before perceptive Jeremy wheedled her yet again.
Instead, Jer ran a cloth under the faucet and washed down her table. "You know, Rob's gone for that convention. I haven't stayed over in years. What if we have a girl's night tonight? Just you and me, huh, Jess?"
Her fingers ran across the smooth wood of the vacant chair- the one brought in for Darius. What would it have been like had he stayed? Something clenched, her stomach- or lower- and she wished she had had the chance to find out. "I'd like that."
He clapped. "Excellent. Now, where's your shaggy little mutt?"
Undertow panted up a storm as they returned from their neighborhood stroll. As Jess unclipped his leash, Jeremy kicked off his shoes. "Your dog is useless. He didn't eat one single squirrel." Lapping water splashed all over the floor.
Jess swatted his arm. "Corgis herd, they don't hurt."
Jeremy balanced on one foot with a hand pressed to the wall as he tugged off a sneaker. "You can say that again."
"Corgis herd, they don't-"
"Enough." They both laughed.
Jess crossed to the fridge and stuck her head in. "Heiney-kins?"
He stuck out a droll tongue. "Love the name. Hate the beer."
She tried again. "Labatts?"
"Perfect."
"Got it." She fished two cans from their box and tossed him one. "Scrabble?"
"You're on." He popped the top and tipped back.
They went into the parlor, where Jeremy cleared space on the antique game table, pulling two Eastlake side chairs up to it. "Any antique coasters in this joint?"
"Actually...." she opened a wicker box and pulled two lace doilies from it. "Prepare to lose," she warned as she tossed him one.
"Doubt it, babe." He placed his beer on the white crochet. "I've been reading the dictionary for fun. My illustrious vernacular is bo
und to intimidate."
"Try me." She joined him, and they dumped out the letters to scramble. After choosing their pieces, Jess led off with B-O-D-Y.
Jeremy added to make T-I-M-I-D.
Jess spelled T-H-E. "Boring, I know."
Cocking his head, Jeremy asked, "Is this autobiographical?"
Her stomach clenched. "The timid body. Funny. No."
A few seconds elapsed. He touched her hand. "You sure?"
Sudden burning behind her eyes made Jess look away.
"Sweetie." He collected both her hands in his and held them over the game board. "I don't think I've even seen you get close to a man."
Defiant, Jess couldn't meet his eyes. "I haven't. I thought you knew that."
He studied her. "What about Joe? I thought you two... ahem." He politely coughed.
Jess pulled away and hugged herself. She squirmed in her chair and slunk lower. "I'm no good in relationships, Jer. I just turn into an ice princess. I can't relax. I can't be myself. I constantly feel like I have to act differently from who I really am, and I hate it. I'd rather be single than continue a farce."
Jer frowned and leaned over the board. "I don't get it. I thought you really liked Joe. At least, he always had his hands on you, in an affectionate sort of way."
Jess glared over at him for a split second before glowering at her drink. "That's just it. He pushed too hard. I guess I got scared." Lower, she mumbled, "Bottom line, he wasn't Darius."
Jer made a soft noise in his throat. "Just like all the rest of them weren't Darius. And now that he's back in your life, why are you running from him?" Jer hovered over the board, clearly expecting a life-changing response.
Her lips twitched, and she offered an apologetic shrug. "Because he's Darius."
He slapped his thigh once. Hard. "And you'd no longer have a reason to run."
It took both hands and full concentration to slowly rearrange the letters in her holder. She spelled out V-I-R-G-I but had no N to link it to. She had two E's for VERGE. She instead connected to the M for MERGE. "Great," she muttered, hoping he wouldn't see. Now she was merging her timid body.
Just so as not to disappoint, Jeremy tapped and pointed to the game board. "That's what you should be doing. Merging. With Darius."
