Not Another Bad Date slaod-4

by Rachel Gibson

  “…why is your house practically a shrine to her?” Adele had asked the night before. Was his house like a shrine to Devon? Had he allowed his daughter’s grief and his own guilt over Devon’s death dictate how they would live in their home? Maybe. And maybe when Tiffany got back, they’d talk about taking the portrait down.

  He walked down the hall to his bedroom and flipped on the light. This may come as a shock to you Zach Zemaitis, but not every woman in this world is lyin’ and dyin’ to birth your baby. Some of us actually find the thought horrifyin’. He smiled as he shucked his clothes, then moved to the bathroom. He’d overreacted. Clearly he had, but the condom breaking had thrown ice water on his amorous mood, chilled him to the marrow, and twisted his gut into a knot. When it came to birth control, he didn’t trust women. He only trusted himself. But did he think she was lying?

  Zach turned on the shower and stepped inside. No, he didn’t think she was lying. Not only because until the night before, she’d been running from him instead of to him, but because he really didn’t believe Adele would lie about something so important.

  He thought about the football game earlier that day. They’d eked out a win in the last four minutes of the game, and he knew he was partly to blame. He hadn’t been able to give the boys his full effort. His mind had been split between the playing field and Adele. While his tight end had been having difficulty running his pass patterns, Zach had been having difficulty keeping his mind in the game and off Adele. While he should have been watching the tight end more closely to make sure he was getting his hands up at the snap, he’d been wondering what Adele was doing with her hands and calculating the distance back to Cedar Creek.

  He’d been distracted. Impatient to win and get back to Adele. That had never happened to him before. He’d always been able to wrap his head around the game and leave his personal life off the field. Nothing ever affected his game. Especially not a woman.

  Perhaps it was because he’d gone without sex for three years that he was having a hard time concentrating on anything but seeing Adele again. Of pulling her up against his chest and getting her naked. His team had noticed, and Joe had even commented on it.

  “Is something wrong, Z?” he’d asked, as they’d walked from the locker room after half. “You seem distracted.”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” he’d assured his defensive coach, and had done a little better during the second half of the game.

  He asked 110 percent of his boys, and they deserved no less from him. He needed to put the brakes on his relationship with Adele; to slow things down before it really got him in trouble. That wasn’t going to be a problem since she’d kicked him out of her house and told him not to show up on her porch again.

  Sure, he’d been wrong to get crazy and accuse her of lying, but a broken condom made him crazy. There was a one-in-a-hundred chance that she’d get pregnant, but he didn’t like those odds. Then again, maybe the broken condom was just one more distraction that he didn’t need. He had one more game to win before the state championship next month, and he needed to concentrate all his energy on bringing home the trophy.

  Adele was beautiful, and he’d like to get to know her all over again. He’d like to get reacquainted outside of bed and reconnect a lot more in bed, but the last thing he needed was a woman distracting him. Especially one who touched him in hard places with soft hands and made him want to forget about everything but being with her.

  Ignoring Adele completely wasn’t an option. One, because he didn’t want to, and two because it was impossible. He’d tried that, and it hadn’t worked, but he did need to slow things down. At least until after State.

  He thought of the look in her eyes as she’d slammed the door in his face. State was a few weeks away, and she might need that time to cool off.

  Chapter 13

  “Aunt Adele, do you know the square root of sixteen?”

  She thought a moment as she buttered a piece of toast. “I think it’s four.” She looked over at Kendra, who was doing her homework at the kitchen table. It had been a long time since she’d had to figure out the square root of anything. “Or maybe it’s thirty-two.” She cut the toast and put it on a plate next to scrambled eggs. “No it’s four. Maybe.”

  “Never mind,” Kendra said through a sigh, and pulled a calculator from her backpack. She punched in a few numbers and wrote on a lined piece of paper.

  “What is it?”

  “Four.”

  Kendra had been in a blue mood for three days since her return from the dance competition on Sunday. The team had come in third, and she’d come in tenth on her solo routine.

  “I couldn’t concentrate,” she’d said. “I was worried Momma would have the baby, and I’d be gone.”

  “Tenth out of all the other girls from all the other teams isn’t so bad,” Adele had told her, but it was like talking to a wall. “Look, all you can do is your best on any given day. If it isn’t good enough, then try to do better next time.”

  “That’s what Momma told me.”

  “Your momma’s a wise woman,” Adele heard herself say, and was shocked.

  “Tiffany says she’ll help me with my attack movements.”

  “That’s sweet of her. Is she going to help you here?” Adele hadn’t seen Zach since the night she’d pushed him out her front door, and that was just fine with her. She was busy and didn’t have time in her life for a man who freaked out like that over a broken condom, especially after she’d explained to him that the failure rate of her birth control was 1 percent.

  “Probably her house since it’s so much bigger.” Kendra punched a few more numbers into her calculator.

  “I’ll drop you off after school and pick you up at five,” Adele said as she slid the plate in front of her niece. “I’d really appreciate it if you could be outside waiting for me.”

  “Why?”

  Because Tiffany’s daddy is a jerk, who thinks women are dying to have his baby. “We just have a lot to do.”

  “Okay.”

  After Adele dropped Kendra at school, she jogged her usual five miles, then took a bouquet of star lilies to Sherilyn. The flowers smelled wonderful, looked gorgeous, and were sure to cheer up her sister.

  When Adele walked into the room, Sherilyn wasn’t there, and for a few terrifying seconds, she thought they might have taken her to delivery. Across the room, the toilet flushed, and the door to the bathroom swung open. Sherilyn shuffled toward the bed, her pink nightgown wrinkled, her hair in a scraggly ponytail, dark circles beneath her eyes.

  “I thought something had happened to you.” Adele put a hand on her racing heart. “I about had heart failure.”

  Sherilyn grabbed some old roses from a vase sitting beside the sink and threw them away. “I’m so bored, I’d welcome the excitement of a little heart failure just to liven things up.” She rinsed the vase and filled it with water.

  “Bad night?” Adele took the lilies to the sink and stuck them in the vase.

  Sherilyn pulled them back out, and trimmed the stems. “I had insomnia again. I don’t think I slept at all.”

  “Isn’t there anything you can take?”

  “No.” Sherilyn stuck one lily, then another in the vase. “I even watched the Flavor of Love marathon on VH1. Season one and two. I thought that would put me to sleep.”

  Adele was fairly certain Flavor of Love was on Kendra’s banned television list and could not have been more shocked if Sherilyn had said she’d been watching a Chucky marathon.

  “Instead of making me tired, I had to stay awake to see which ‘fake ass bitch’ got booted and who got a clock.” Sherilyn snipped a stem and shoved a lily into the vase.

  “Excuse me?”

  A frown wrinkled her sister’s forehead. “Did I just say ‘fake ass bitch?’”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “I’m so bored,” Sherilyn said through a long sigh. “I’m obviously going out of my mind.”

  Sherilyn wasn’t the only one who’d l
ost her mind. Adele had been crazy to have ever had sex with Zach Zemaitis again. It was never a good idea to start things up with an old boyfriend. She knew that and wished she was back home in Boise. If she were home, she’d call her friends and set up an emergency lunch. She’d tell them about Zach, and they’d tell her she was great and he was a jerk. Even if it was a lie. They’d give her advice that she’d probably ignore, but at least they’d cheer her up.

  “Tell me something interesting. Anything,” Sherilyn pleaded, and carried the vase to the bedside table. “I’m so tired of staring at the same walls. I could scream.”

  Adele thought about opening up to her sister. Of telling her about Zach, but in the end she didn’t. She and Sherilyn had never had that kind of relationship. Her sister had always been too judgmental, and Zach had been a one-night stand–well a two-night stand—that had taken place in Sherilyn’s house while her daughter had been out of town. Adele didn’t know what her sister would think about that. Hell, Adele wasn’t sure she knew what to think about that.

  “Go wash your hair and I’ll curl it for you,” she said to her sister. “Then maybe we can walk to the sitting room down the hall and watch while the big fish eat the little fish in the aquarium.”

  “That’s sadistic and sad.” Sherilyn pulled out her shampoo. “But the best offer I’ve had in a long time.”

  While Adele curled Sherilyn’s hair, they talked about Kendra and the baby and about Sherilyn’s divorce proceedings. By the time Adele finished with her sister’s hair, Sherilyn was tired and ready to sleep. They made a date to watch the cannibalistic fish the next day, and Adele left just before noon.

  She had a full day’s worth of work. A whole three hours of alone time to get things done before she had to pick up Kendra from school, but when she pulled onto her street, Zach sat on her front porch. From half a block away she knew it was him. There was no mistaking the Cadillac parked at the curb. No mistaking his long legs and wide shoulders, his blond hair or the intense gaze he leveled on her as he watched her roll up the driveway. No mistaking the little flutter in her stomach and the jump of her pulse. Neither of which was welcome.

  Instead of parking in the garage, she got out and moved across the lawn toward him. Beside his big cowboy boots rested a box about the size of a loaf of bread. It was wrapped with a huge pink bow and was covered in shiny pink paper.

  “I’m sorry about the other night,” he said as he stood.

  She crossed her arms over the front of her jacket. “What exactly are you sorry for?” If he thought he could come here with lingerie, and she’d forgive him, he’d better think again.

  “For being an ass about the broken condom. I know you said not to show up on your porch, but I think you should reconsider.”

  “Why?” Unless it was La Perla. She could forgive a lot for yummy undies. It had been a while since she’d worn fabulous underwear, but the box was too big for tiny scraps of lingerie.

  A cool breeze brushed the ends of his short hair. “I have something you need.”

  Once a boyfriend had given her a naughty nurse outfit, and another had given her cuffs and a leather whip. “What?”

  “Invite me in, and I’ll show you.”

  “It better not be crotchless.” She moved up the steps until they were on eye level. The flutter in her stomach spread up her chest. “And don’t think for a second that you can come here with an apology and a gift, and I’ll forgive you.”

  He seemed to consider that before he shrugged. “Fair enough.”

  “And don’t think you can pull your slick”—she poked a finger at his chest—“sneaky moves, and I’ll get naked either.”

  Humor creased the corners of his eyes. “No, ma’am.”

  “Your old broken moves may work on weaker women, but I’m not that easy.”

  “I never thought you were.” He pushed her hair behind her ear, and his cool fingers brushed her cheek. Even after he removed his hand, she still felt his touch. “That’s why I’ve got new slick moves just for you.”

  She almost smiled, but she wasn’t ready to forgive him. Not only had he behaved badly, it had taken him three days to apologize. She gave him a hard look and continued up the steps. She opened the front door, and once inside, he closed it behind them. She hung their jackets in the hall closet, and he handed her the gift he’d brought. It was heavy and her gaze slid down his black Ralph Lauren polo to the box in her hands. She set it on the entry table and pulled off the bow. It obviously wasn’t underwear, not that the box was the right shape, anyway.

  She ripped it open and pulled out a leather tool belt, complete with screwdrivers, hammer, and a tape measure hanging off it.

  “A tool belt,” she said through a smile. No man had ever given her something she’d actually needed.

  “Sorry, it’s crotchless.”

  “So it is.” She put it around her hips and buckled it over the top of her jeans. “Should we try it out?”

  “I’m willing.”

  She had a feeling he wasn’t talking about trying out the tools, but she was too excited to care. The hammer slapped the outside of her thigh as she moved into the baby’s room. It was just a tool belt. A strap of leather with metal hanging off it, and she tried not to read more into the gift. Like the thought and effort that went into driving to the hardware store and picking out her tools just for her. Of wrapping it up and waiting on her porch for her to return home. It was probably one of his slick and sneaky ways of getting her naked, but she had to give him serious points for it.

  He stopped in the middle of the room and looked at the boxes shoved up against the walls. “What do you want to tackle first?”

  “The crib.”

  He grabbed a flat-head screwdriver from her belt and popped the big staples from the carton as if they were nothing. It would have taken her forever to work them out. The big hands that had fired footballs downfield for most of his life worked with such ease that she was reminded that sometimes a man was handy outside of the bedroom.

  “You don’t have to help me do this.” Watching him started a hot little spark at the top of her stomach. Her body seemed to remember the skill of those hands on her, and the little spark spread through her veins. “I’m sure you have other things to do.”

  He lifted his gaze to hers. “I have a lot of other things I should be doing, but I’m here.” He stared into her eyes for several heartbeats before he returned his attention to the big box. “I’ve tried to stay away. After you threw me out of the house, I thought it was probably for the best. You’re a distraction, and I don’t need a distraction right now.” He handed the screwdriver back to her and ripped the box open with his big hands. “I’ve got tapes I need to review, and plays I need to go over in my head before today’s practice, yet here I am. Putting baby furniture together for you because I can’t get you out of my head. I plug in a tape, and all I do is think about you.” He peeled back the cardboard and reached for the instruction sheet that had fallen to the floor. “But the thing is, Adele, I’m not really sure whether you want me to be here or not.” His polo shirt pulled out of the waistband of his Levi’s and slid up the tan muscles of his back. He straightened and looked at her over the top of the instructions. “I don’t know what you want.”

  She looked at him, standing there, filling up more than his fair share of space, with his long legs and wide shoulders, offering to put the baby’s crib together so he could be with her, and she didn’t know either. After the dry spell she’d been living in for the past three years, having a man around again was nice. But having this particular man around wasn’t a good idea for many reasons.

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  “No.”

  “You don’t sound convinced.”

  “I want you to stay. It’s just that…I don’t want to want you to stay.” She took a breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t know if it’s ever a good idea to get together with someone from the past. There’s just too much…” She lifted one hand and l
et it drop to her side. “Usually what broke the relationship up is still there, unresolved.”

  “She’s not here.”

  “No, but I’m not sure it’s ever a good idea to pick up something that was broken to pieces.”

  He tilted his head to one side and looked across at her. “Yesterday, when I was watching my football players run drills, I remembered giving you that fairy book in your dorm room fourteen years ago. One second I was yelling at the tight end, and in the next, I remembered the look on your face when I gave you the book. I remembered how much you loved it.”

  “I did.”

  “Then I remembered the night I told you Devon was pregnant.”

  She remembered that, too.

  “I remember the look in your eyes.”

  Adele glanced down at the toes of her velvet flats. “This is what I mean by not picking up broken pieces.”

  Silence stretched between them for several long moments before he said, “I went to your dorm room a few days later, but you were gone. No one knew where you’d run off to.”

  She looked up. “You asked?”

  “Yes.”

  She shook her head. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this.”

  “I think we should.” He tossed the instructions on top of the crib pieces. “I always regretted how much I hurt you.”

  “That was a long time ago. I’m over it.”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes.” It was true. But that didn’t mean she was stupid enough to make the same mistake twice in one lifetime. She was older and wiser. She didn’t want to develop feelings for Zach. For one thing, he lived here in Texas. Her life was over a thousand miles away, waiting for her return.

  “I hope so because I had to do what I felt was right. At the risk of getting told to go fuck myself and the door slammed in my face again, you have to know that if given the exact situation, I’d have to do it all the same. I had to step up and take responsibility for something I’d done. It wasn’t easy, but I didn’t have a choice.”