I did recall then, laughing too.
“Dad was trying to get her to hold still so he could burn it off,” Justin went on.
“Burn it?” asked Bly in confusion.
“Yeah, if you try to pull them out they just stretch and don’t unlatch, but if you use a lighter the little fuckers fall right off,” Justin explained, giving me a sideways grin.
“But Jo wouldn’t hold still. She was screaming and kicking her leg like it was some kind of new dance,” I added. “Dodge was laughing too hard after awhile to even help anymore.”
“And then—” Justin began, but I interrupted, saying, “And then Justin here, sensitive guy that he is, finally managed to get her to calm down and pulled the leech out, longer and longer, like a black rubber band.” I shuddered at the memory.
“But then I felt bad since she started to cry,” Justin supplied, sounding apologetic, though back to his usual attitude.
“I thought she was going to faint when you let it go and its horrible stretched-out body fell against her leg,” I said, laughing hard now. “You did that on purpose.”
“God, you guys are mean,” Bly teased, leaning on his forearms and watching us with amusement.
“Aw, shit, everybody gets a leech now and then,” Justin said, slapping his palms against the edge of the counter. “You joining us, Jills?”
I looked up and over at him for a long moment. He finally let his gaze hold mine without hiding anything and something heated flared between us. My heart slammed against my ribs. His dark eyes caused a sizzling ripple to spiral though my abdomen. I heard myself say, “Sure, why not?”
“Eddie’s?” Justin asked. “You guys can ride with me if you want.”
“You’re not going to clean up first?” I teased him and he laughed.
“What about you, server girl?” he teased right back, leaning towards me as I’d just been fantasizing about leaning into him, and then smelling my hair. He confirmed, “Yeah, fresh fried fish. Try saying that five times fast.”
“Ugh, get away,” I bitched at him, my heart suddenly beating so hard I probably sounded breathless.
“I’ll drive my truck, you guys,” Bly said as we reached the parking lot. “I’ll head back to Rich’s afterward anyway.”
“We’ll see you there!” I called. Justin did pause to open the door for me and I climbed inside, running my hands lightly over the leather seat beneath my bare legs. I was in his truck, alone with him. Though it wasn’t the same vehicle, I recalled the last time I’d been, the night he and Jackson had fallen off the train.
“So, Jo’s gonna be here next week?” Justin asked, sliding behind the wheel and firing his ride to life. From this direction his scars were more vivid than ever. I suppressed the desire to reach over and run my fingers lightly over his face. In nearly three years I had never yet been brave enough to touch his face. Surely he would self-consciously turn away from my touch. He added, “I haven’t seen her in ages.”
“I know, I feel like I haven’t either,” I said, rolling down my window and breathing in the night air, trying not to be too overly affected by how close he was. I added, “I miss her so much.”
“I know you do,” he said then.
“And Jackie cheated on her. And not just once, either!” I went on. As much as I hated that he’d hurt my sister, a huge part of me was glad, so glad, because it meant she finally had a reason to leave his ass behind. And come home to stay, please oh please.
“Yeah, Dad said,” Justin confirmed. “But is anyone really surprised? I mean, come on.”
It was so refreshing to talk with someone who knew, who’d shared our collective history and didn’t require explanations for every other thing. I said, “No. But he hurt her so much. She would’ve done just about anything for him. You know.”
Justin parked in front of Eddie’s, Blythe just behind us, where the usual crowd was assembled, recognizable by their vehicles. Inside the place was familiar as always, the wide-plank wooden floor, the long, scarred bar to the left with an ancient Pabst Blue Ribbon mirror hanging behind. In the far corner near the lone pool table, Eddie was strumming his guitar in accompaniment to the jukebox, which was crooning an old Johnny Cash tune. Jim Olson and Del Christianson were elbowed up to the bar, mugs in hand. They both turned to acknowledge us, Eddie calling, “Hey there, kids! Jilly, good to see you.”
Justin headed to the counter, clapping both of the older men on the back. Blythe continued more slowly, ducking his head just a little in a shy way, still getting used to everyone. I felt a rush of almost maternal affection for him and hung back too, saying, “They’re pretty welcoming.”
He gave me a grin and claimed a seat on Justin’s other side, leaving a stool between them, which I took to be mine. I settled between them and smiled at Eddie as he moved behind the bar.
“The usual?” he questioned, and Justin and I nodded. Eddie poured two tall drafts of Schell for us, and then raised his eyebrows at Blythe.
“Ah, same as these guys,” he said.
“So, Jillian, you getting excited for your sister to get home?” asked Jim, leaning around Justin and regarding me with kind, if bloodshot, blue eyes.
“Hell, yes,” I said again.
“Jackie coming with her?” The interrogation continued, this time with Del asking the question.
“Maybe a bit later,” I hedged without missing a beat. No way could I let these guys think anything otherwise. “He’s so busy with his law firm these days, you know.”
“They have three kids now, or four?” asked Jim.
“Three,” I said, noticing that Blythe was intently listening as I talked about my sister. “All girls.”
“Imagine that,” Del said, draining his mug.
“Well, bring her over the minute she gets to town,” Eddie said, giving me a wink.
“I will,” I promised. The three older men headed to the pool table, leaving Justin, Blythe and I leaning on our elbows against the bar.
I was acutely aware of Justin on my right, angled so that his knee was just a few inches from mine. He was saying, “Don’t worry, Jills, I won’t tell anyone about Jackie cheating. It’s no one’s business.”
“I was just thinking that,” I said, even though I hadn’t been. But it was nice of him to let me know. I added, “Jo would be so embarrassed. It seems like everyone knows anyway, at least at Shore Leave.”
“I know how she feels,” Justin said then. “I’ll talk with her when she gets here, if she wants. I know how bad that fucking sucks.”
From my other side Bly added, “Yeah, you don’t exactly get over that kind of thing.”
Justin grunted a little, but said, “Especially when it’s your wife.”
Blythe didn’t ask any more questions, but again I was struck with the sense that he was a good listener. Justin must have subconsciously reached the same conclusion, because he added, “We were married for a long time. And we’d dated in high school too. Shit, I stuck around here to wait for her.”
I curled my hands around my mug and studied Justin’s reflection in the mirror; he was looking up and to the right, back into time. Finally Bly followed up with a quiet, “What happened?”
“This,” Justin said, turning his face directly towards us and flippantly indicated his scars. “This happened, and Aubrey couldn’t live with it.”
Blythe narrowed his eyes as though in speculation and said, “You know what’s funny?” When neither Justin nor I responded, he added, “I don’t even notice your scars unless you talk about them.”
It was the best thing he could have said. Justin, who’d appeared just a wee bit confrontational, laughed a little and turned back to his beer. I gave Blythe a small, sidelong smile, letting him know he’d said the right thing. I totally agreed with him.
An hour later the mood had lightened considerably, perhaps because I was fairly drunk, and Eddie’s partner for a round of pool. Justin and Jim were taking us on, while Blythe hunkered on a stool and watched. He’d insisted
that he was not a pool player, and would rather relax with a beer and be our audience.
“Those pool cues feel like toothpicks in my hand,” he’d explained in his deep voice, his southern accent more pronounced the longer he continued drinking. “I can’t handle ’em right.”
Though I doubted Blythe had ever had trouble handling anything in those big hands, I left him alone, concentrating instead on beating Justin. Jim was the lesser of the two evils on their team. Justin, though, was canny. He was also drunk, but that was no impairment to him; in fact, it even seemed to sharpen his focus. I was a good pool player myself and determined to beat Justin, and the competition between us had reached a peak at this point. It was no-holds-barred between him and me now, though Eddie and Jim were still hanging around the table, laughing and heckling us, by turns. I still had the two and the three, Justin just the fourteen, and the table was currently mine.
“Come on, honey,” Eddie coached me, as I leaned into the shot and muttered, “Two in the corner,” nodding at the far right pocket.
I was really concentrating, knowing I had to sink this one or lose for sure, my fingers perfectly poised over the end of the cue, when Justin commented wryly, “You know, Jillian, some people might consider that cheating.”
Dammit, I knew he was trying to distract me. And to my chagrin, I found my gaze flickering over to him. He was just across the table from me, his cue balanced on the floor, both of his hands wrapped around the top of it, his chin tipped just slightly down. His dark eyes were skewering me, directed straight down my shirt, which, from the angle I was currently in, allowed for a pretty deep glimpse of my cleavage. Sitting just behind him, Blythe made a choked sound, like he was trying not to laugh, and actually flushed a little. Jim and Eddie both laughed heartily, though Eddie said, “One more word like that about my partner and I’ll kick your ass, boy.”
Although I was flustered as hell, I refused to give Justin the satisfaction of acting embarrassed. Probably four beers had something to do with it. I squared my shoulders, offering even better viewing access to say so there, and from the corner of my eye I was terribly pleased to see Justin’s lips twist up in a crooked little smile. A hank of black hair had fallen over his forehead, causing him to look even more disreputable, and admittedly, sexy as hell. I drew in a breath, concentrated on my shot with real effort (a trickle of sweat actually skimmed over my temple), and then sank the two in the corner. Eddie howled while Jim slapped Justin’s back and Justin himself gave me a knowing grin.
I stood straight and blew a lock of my own blond hair from my eye. I had to stand right where Justin currently was to make my last shot before the eight. I moved towards him, pinning him with my eyes. He lifted his eyebrows at me as though in challenge, but then moved to the side so I could have access. I was incredibly self-conscious of having to bend forward over the table again, in my jean shorts that were probably a little shorter than they should be, but shit, I have to admit I liked showing off my legs. I zoned in on the three, again calling my shot, murmuring, “Three in the side,” while Eddie ordered in a mock-strict tone, “Eyes off my partner, Miller.”
But I couldn’t pay attention to them, knowing this was it; I had to sink this ball or Justin would nail me. In the game, I hastily corrected myself, but my heart was already going triple-time just thinking about the other context of that thought. I breathed in and held it, drew a bead, and lightly tapped the cue ball, gently as I could manage. Time seemed to crawl as I stayed bent over, watching as it rolled along smooth as butter, clicked against the three, and…sank it. I breathed out in a rush, feeling a smile flow across my face.
Eddie was whooping and Justin was shaking his head, raising his mug of beer to me in a silent salute. I gave him my most sugary smile and sank the eight ball with no pressure this time, winning the game. Jim was laughing too, Blythe grinning at me and clapping proudly. I sauntered over to Justin, who stood his ground and regarded me with amusement and something…something that made my heart blast off into my throat yet again. But I didn’t let him see any of my discomposure, instead saying, sweetly, “I believe you owe us a round of drinks.”
“You got it, Jilly-Anne,” he teased me and again my heart danced rapidly against my breastbone.
“I think I’m in the mood for a shot,” I said, though I should have known way better. Did I think I was still in high school? This tigress attitude was a direct result of four beers in quick succession, certainly not because Justin seemed somehow tethered to me by an invisible thread, following in my wake and straddling the barstool beside mine, leaning over on one elbow and regarding me with his dark eyes slightly hooded and a smile playing over his sexy mouth. Eddie appeared behind the bar and asked, “What’ll it be?”
I kept my eyes on Justin’s as I requested, “Your most expensive shot of tequila.”
Justin narrowed his eyes even further, but he said, gamely enough, “Make it two.”
Blythe ambled up and gave me a brief pat on the back. He said, “Good game, Jills. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
I managed to look away from Justin and asked, “Aw, you’re going already?”
Bly nodded, glancing at Justin and then back to me. He winked and said, “Have a good night.”
“See ya, buddy,” Justin added as Eddie produced three shot glasses and proceeded to fill them with something, I didn’t really pay attention.
“Here’s to my partner,” Eddie said in mock-seriousness, bumping his shot glass against mine. He was never above drinking with his customers.
“Thanks,” I said, batting my lashes at him.
“I’m only buying the two, Ed,” Justin teased, his dark eyes glinting as he chimed his glass against Eddie’s.
For a moment I held my breath, poised with my glass in the air; Justin tapped our shots, lightly, and we all drained the round.
“Another!” I pronounced, though Eddie shook his head at me and moved to rejoin Jim at the pool table.
“Jilly, you’ll be sick,” Justin said.
“I’m fine,” I insisted. I teased, “Let’s go dancing.”
Justin rolled his eyes at me and suggested, “How about I get your ass home.”
I wasn’t about to give up this unexpected time with him and said, “No, I’m not ready yet.”
“Jills,” he said then, and there was something in his voice that made my heart kickstart. But in the next second he stood up and said, quietly, “Come on.”
“Should you be driving?” I asked him.
“Shit, I’m fine,” Justin told me. “I think, though, that you’re going to be feeling pretty terrible tomorrow.”
I couldn’t read him at all. During our entire pool game until just a few seconds ago, I felt a vibration of heat flowing between us. And now it was as though he’d purposely stomped on it, becoming friendly but businesslike all of a sudden. I studied him intently for a moment as he pretended not to feel the weight of my gaze, finding his keys and then a twenty-dollar bill to put on the bar.
“Night, kids!” Eddie called over as Justin held the outer door open for me, and we waved good-night to him and Jim.
Outside the late-night air was still mid-spring chilly and I shivered a little. Justin clicked the automatic locks on his truck and opened the door for me, while I climbed inside and tried to reconcile what was going on between us. My insides were jittery and as he slid behind the wheel I suddenly felt like crying. But I wouldn’t dream of letting him suspect that.
“Shit, are you cold? It’s cold out here,” he said, starting the engine and messing with the controls. “Here, I’ll get the heat going, sorry, Jills…”
“I’m fine,” I told him, keeping my voice steady with effort. The buzz I’d been enjoying was fizzling fast under a wave of sudden gloom. I wanted him to pull me against his warm side. I wanted it so much, and so fiercely, that I could hardly even look at him. He drove to Shore Leave in silence; when we got to the parking lot just a few minutes later I finally braved it and looked over at him. He met my ey
es, though the rest of him was motionless, his hands hanging by the wrists over the top of the steering wheel, like always. My belly jumped and everything was so tangled up inside of me that I had to get out of his truck. Or I would embarrass myself by giving in to my desperate urge to move like lightning, straddle him and make him forget all about his scars, his bitterness, and Aubrey…
He seemed about to speak, and I lost my nerve all at once, saying, “Thanks for the ride,” before hurrying out of the truck. He stayed there, engine idling, until he’d made sure I was safely up my steps and into my front door. Inside I leaned against it, palms braced behind me, and listened to him drive away.
Chapter Nine
Two nights later I hadn’t seen a wink of him, even in the mornings for coffee.
This fact was making me ache inside.
That also may have been why I’d thrown myself into our Davis women margarita night just a few hours earlier, all of us joyously celebrating the fact that by next Saturday, Joelle would be here to join the festivities. It had been relatively fun, and distracting, but now hours had passed since everyone had gone to bed and I was alone in the dark, out on the dock. The night air was soft as a lover’s hands on my bare shoulders. I raked my fingers through my hair and then crunched up the handful of TicTacs in my mouth. I usually loved sitting down here in the wee hours, letting my thoughts drift a little as I studied the stars. Sometimes I thought about Chris; how could I not, with so many memories of us built into these plank boards, this very air? But tonight I was thinking again of Justin.
Dammit.
I thought about him all the time, though he especially lingered in my mind after I lay down at night, longing for sleep, hearing my teenage son snoring in the next room. Justin and his way of coming into the café and making me feel whole. A way that I hadn’t felt in over a decade. His hunky shoulders and dark eyes. There was something about the darkness of his irises that made him all the more appealing, so full of heat, like embers of a campfire that had been smoldering for hours. I rolled my own eyes at my thoughts, rubbing my shoulders roughly, arms crossed over my chest. I’d slid off my bra hours earlier, but it didn’t matter since no one was here at this time of night, no one was stirring except the mosquitoes. I was irritated that my nipples were as stiff as peaks of meringue under my t-shirt at just the thought of Justin.
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