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Can't Stand the Heat?

Page 10

by Margaret Watson

“I don’t hate you, Jen.” He looked at her then, his lips curving. “Couldn’t you tell the other night?”

  “That was sex,” she said, her voice flat. “And power. It had nothing to do with hate or love.”

  He shifted in his seat. Somehow, he ended up closer to her. “I didn’t plan that.”

  Heat rose up her neck.

  If he was any other man…

  Where were the boys? How long did it take to drop off some fish?

  There was a long minute of uncomfortable silence before Nick and Tommy emerged from the tiny store. Walker asked them what they’d decided to do with their fish, and they debated Cajun versus lemon pepper flavors for smoked salmon the rest of the way home.

  When they reached the house, the boys lugged the cooler with the rest of the fillets inside. Instead of heading for his Porsche, parked at the curb, Walker waited for her. She tried to walk past him, but he put out a hand to stop her.

  “How’s your stomach?” he asked, pressing his hand over her abdomen.

  Her muscles quivered under his palm. “It’s fine.” He dipped one finger beneath the waistband of her jeans as he moved away.

  It was barely a touch. Just a quick sweep of a fingertip. Anyone watching would think it was merely an accident. But she sucked in a breath. “Thanks for the fish. We’ll have them for dinner on Monday.”

  “You’re not going to invite me?”

  “Why would I? You said you hated fish.”

  “You’re a good cook. I bet you could make fish palatable, even for me.”

  “Fine. Come on over.”

  She watched him as he sauntered to his car. She’d risen to the bait. You’d think by now she’d have learned to avoid the hook.

  THE NEXT MORNING, the bell over the door to Frank’s shop rang as Jen was measuring the space that would be her seating area. Frank was holding the other end of her tape measure, and he nodded toward the newcomer. “Be with you in a minute.”

  “No hurry.”

  Walker. The metal tab of the tape measure flew out of her hands and snapped Frank’s knuckles as it rewound.

  “Hey!” He shook his hand. “Take it easy.”

  “Sorry, Frank.” She snatched the black metal case from him. “I’ll look at the back room while you take care of your customer.”

  She hurried through the door into Frank’s office. His desk was a mess, the piles held in place by boxes of sports cards. A frame holding a signed Brett Favre jersey leaned against the wall next to a filing cabinet. A milk crate held autographed baseballs. Beyond the desk were mostly empty metal shelves.

  She could put a kitchen in this space. She tried to visualize where everything would go, but Walker’s voice in the background distracted her, and her body responded.

  What was he doing here? She doubted he collected baseball cards.

  The talking stopped, but the bell over the door didn’t ring. Was Walker waiting for her? He clearly didn’t know the meaning of “no.” Or “get lost.”

  When she returned to the front of the store, he was just slipping a small brown bag in his pocket. “Hello, Walker,” she said, wondering what he’d bought. “I had no idea you were a sports fan.”

  “Huge one,” he answered. “Cubs season tickets.”

  “Bunch of losers.”

  “This is the year.”

  “It always is, isn’t it?”

  “Cubs are great,” Frank said. “We sell a lot of Cubs stuff.”

  She turned to the shop owner. “I think I have everything I need for now. If you’ll get those utility bills together, I’ll stop in and pick them up.”

  “Sure. I’ll dig out a lease, too.”

  “Great. Talk to you soon.”

  She walked out the door, intensely aware of Walker behind her.

  “You’re renting this place?” he asked. “What for?”

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

  “Just curious.”

  He kept pace with her as she headed down the block, and finally she sighed. “I’m opening a restaurant there.”

  “I thought you had a catering business. Like at Quinn’s wedding.”

  “I’m only doing that to scrape together enough money for the restaurant. I didn’t intend to do it so soon, but…”

  “But I showed up in Otter Tail, and you want to get away from the Harp.”

  “Not everything is about you, Walker.”

  “Now you’ve hurt my feelings.” He slipped an arm through hers. “You’re going to have to kiss them and make them better.”

  “Stop it.” She broke away. “What do you want?”

  “Why that spot?”

  “Because it’s available. It’s on Main Street. Tourists driving through to get to other Door County towns will pass it. Some of them will stop.” She walked a little faster. “I have to head home and get ready for work.”

  “You don’t have to be at the Harp for three hours. We need to talk about Nick.”

  “The answer is still no. We’re not doing the test.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “And if you want him to keep working for you, you better not bring it up again.”

  “When did you become such a ball buster?”

  “You have no idea how tough I am.” She’d learned her lessons well while she’d been married to Tony. Show no weakness. Give away nothing that could be exploited. Don’t back down.

  “Okay, tough girl. Did you know Nick goes out at night?”

  “What?” She stared at him, not sure she heard him correctly. “He does not.”

  “And you know this because you’re keeping an eye on him?”

  She sucked in a breath. He’d managed to distill all her guilt into one sentence. “Go to hell, Walker.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SHE ONLY WANTED TO GET home. To be safe.

  Away from him.

  “Jen. I’m sorry.” When she tried to step around him, he moved with her. “That was a cheap shot. It was unfair and untrue.”

  “I am gone almost every night.”

  “But you’re there during the day. Please. I promised him I’d talk to you about this.”

  She whirled to face him, furious. “When have you talked to him by yourself?”

  She let him steer her to the park, where they both sat on one of the benches. The play area was deserted. A blue-winged teal flew over and landed on the river with a tiny, faraway splash.

  “I saw him running through an alley the night I walked you home. Late. With a couple of other kids.” Walker rested his elbows on his knees and stared down at the grass.

  That was the night he’d kissed her. “Why didn’t you speak up as soon as you saw him? So I could deal with it immediately.”

  He shifted on the bench as if he was uncomfortable. “I was pissed off about Nick. I guess I was trying to get even with you.” He slanted her a look. “Know something about him you didn’t know.”

  She leaped off the bench. She couldn’t bear to be that close to him. “He’s not a pawn in your game. He’s a child. What he was doing was dangerous. You should have told me.”

  “You’re right. I should have. That’s why I’m telling you now.” His gaze shifted to a boat on the river.

  “What else?”

  He shoved his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, okay? It was stupid. I wasn’t thinking about what was best for Nick.”

  “You were playing a stupid power game. At the expense of my son.”

  Maybe his son, too.

  “He was with two other kids. Stevie Melton and a guy named Dave. I forced him to explain what he was doing. I used the threat of ratting him out to you.”

  She sank back down on the bench. This wasn’t good. Nick would normally put up every barrier in his arsenal at a threat like that. Did her son feel some connection with Walker? Blood calling to blood?

  That was ridiculous. Fanciful.

  She didn’t do fanciful.

  He smiled, a tiny curve of his lips. “He said you’d lis
ten to me, because you liked me.”

  “Shows what he knows,” she muttered.

  “Here’s the deal. He and Dave go over to the Meltons’ house on Friday and Saturday nights.”

  “What?” She swung around to face him. “He knows he’s supposed to stay away from that family.”

  “He’s doing a good thing, Jen.” Walker told her about Stevie’s parents and the drugs and the intruder, about Nick and Dave trying to protect the Melton kids.

  “I had no idea. Those poor children.”

  Sunlight filtered through the trees, making lacy designs on the grass, and the air was warm. But goose bumps rose on her skin as she thought about the danger the kids were in. And now Nick, as well.

  “Nick likes Stevie. I’ve known that for a while, but the Meltons have always been bad news. They were a few years ahead of us in school—in my sister Pam’s class—and they were troublemakers even then.” Jen shook her head, remembering Stevie’s pinched face and tense shoulders. “I’m ashamed I never tried to help Stevie or Adam. Something has to be done.”

  “I agree.” Walker put one arm across the back of the bench. He wasn’t touching her, but she slid farther away.

  “There was a fight a few days ago,” he continued. “Some kid named Boyd was hassling Stevie for marijuana, and Nick stood up for her.”

  Jen couldn’t repress the flash of jealousy. “Nick told you about it?”

  “No. I was riding my bike past the school when it happened. I pulled them apart.”

  “Nelson Boyd is a spoiled brat.” She remembered his bullying and tantrums at birthday parties when the kids were much smaller. “I’m not surprised he’s progressed to pushing girls around. He’ll end up like the Meltons.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Surprised, she glanced at him. Tony would have told her what to do. Given her what he thought was the solution.

  “I’ll start with Nick,” she said slowly. “He should have some ideas how to help Stevie and her brother. Ultimately, though, I’ll have to call child services. Stevie and Adam are probably going to be taken out of the home. Rusty and Lauralee Melton will be angry, and it will get ugly.”

  “Do you have room in your house to take them in, at least temporarily?”

  “We could make room, but we’ve got to come up with a long-term solution. If he’s being so protective of Stevie, the two of them living in the same house isn’t a good idea.”

  “I didn’t think of that, but you’re right. I saw the way he looked at her.”

  “My baby is growing up,” she said. An image of Nick as a newborn filled her mind. Helpless, completely dependent on her. He wasn’t a baby any more, but she still wanted to protect him.

  “He’s fifteen. Not a child.”

  “I know. It’s just…” She looked at the river as a shimmer of light reflected off the water. That was the reason tears pricked her eyes. It had nothing to do with another geeky boy, sixteen years earlier. A boy on whom she’d inflicted pain. “Nick’s always seemed to be more interested in games and his buddies than, you know, girls.”

  “Even geek boys like girls,” Walker said drily.

  She’d have to have another talk with Nick. She wished she could leave it to Tony, but he’d turn it into a joke. That was his fallback when some thing made him uncomfortable. Nick would be self-conscious and he’d tune his father out.

  Tony meant well, but he never thought about how to handle the boys. Never thought about the message he was sending when he didn’t take things seriously.

  It was impossible not to compare Tony to Walker. It wasn’t fair to Tony. He did the best he could. But Walker was the one Nick had confided in.

  Nick would never have gone to Tony for help.

  It was a sad situation, both for the boys and for herself. She and Tony had been in love once. So eager to start their life together. But everything had started to unravel after he had to go directly to the minor leagues.

  Because he’d lost his baseball scholarship.

  Because she’d seduced Walker into changing Tony’s grade.

  Because they’d all been caught.

  “Hey.” Walker jostled her arm. “Where did you go?”

  She stared at the sunlight bouncing off the river. She didn’t want to go back there, didn’t want to face the careless, cruel girl she’d been.

  Maybe she should tell him about the gradual dismantling of her marriage, the way it had hollowed out until nothing was left but a shell of bitterness and anger. Maybe it would make him feel better about his five years on that fishing boat.

  Did she want to open herself up to Walker? Make herself that vulnerable?

  “Jen? What are you thinking about?”

  “Nothing that has to do with Nick. Nothing that’s any of your business.”

  WALKER WATCHED JEN AS SHE stood in front of him, the sunlight turning her hair to gold.

  She’d fight him to the death over Nick. A part of him admired her stubbornness. She would do whatever she thought necessary to protect her son.

  She turned to face him. “What do you want from me, Walker?”

  To get you naked.

  His mouth curved as he imagined what she’d do if he said that. At least she didn’t have a baseball bat handy. “For starters, I don’t want to be your enemy.”

  “You want my son,” she said, her voice flat. “That puts us on opposite sides.”

  “Does it have to be one or the other? Can’t he be our son?”

  “He already has a father.”

  “Is there any reason he can’t have two fathers?”

  She scrubbed her hand over her face and dropped onto the bench. “How am I supposed to tell Nick that I slept with you while I was dating Tony? What would he think of me if he knew that?”

  “There are no easy answers, Jen, but we can figure them out together.”

  “Together? I don’t want you in our lives, Walker. Don’t you get it?”

  “Give me your hand,” he said.

  She stared at him for a moment, then slowly complied. Her fingers were chilly in his and a little chapped. She worked hard—for her kids. For her dreams. Another thing he liked about Jen.

  He pressed her palm against his chest, let her feel his heart racing. As she stared at him, her eyes darkened. Her breathing became more shallow.

  He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to it. She stared at him for a moment, her lips parting, then she pulled away.

  “You’re telling me you want me? The woman who took away your college education and sentenced you to five years on a fishing boat? Kind of hard to believe, since you can have any woman you want.”

  “Maybe the right one hasn’t come along yet.”

  “Right. The dateless-geek card won’t work with me, Walker,” she said. “I read People magazine. Who was that last actress you had on your arm? The one who was nominated for an Oscar?”

  “Okay,” he conceded with a smile. “I’m not lacking for dates. But Missy Singer isn’t exactly real.”

  “Parts of her certainly aren’t,” she said.

  He laughed. “And you wonder why I want to spend time with you?” Jen in her jeans—worn white at the stress points and thin in the knee—and her soft, faded sweater, was as real as it got. And more enticing than any of the so-called beautiful people he’d dated.

  Lately, he’d become a big fan of real.

  She glanced at her watch. “I have to get ready for work.”

  “I’ll walk you home.”

  “Not necessary.” Her barriers were up again.

  “Of course it’s not. I want to.” In the sunlight, the buds on the trees were a brilliant green. The first daffodils were opening and the tulips weren’t far behind.

  “Is that pizza place in Sturgeon Falls still open? The one with the best pizza in the county?”

  “Danilo’s? Yeah, it’s still there.” She glanced at him suspiciously.

  “Great. You’re off Monday, aren’t you?”

  She shook
her head. “No, Walker. I’m not going to Danilo’s with you.”

  They didn’t speak as they left the park and waited for a car to pass.

  What was going to happen when he got the results of that DNA test back? If it was positive, would Jen forgive him?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “IS THIS PART OF YOUR master plan, Walker?” Jen had to raise her voice to be heard over the Go Karts roaring around the track in front of her.

  “What master plan would that be?”

  “The ‘innocent and bewildered’ look isn’t a good one for you. You’re charming my sons. Giving them the evening of their dreams. You have an ulterior motive.” He couldn’t possibly want her that badly. Although the thought made her shiver, it was a little hard to believe. This was a guy who’d dated Missy Singer, after all. Why would he want the woman who’d used him—slept with him—while she loved someone else.

  “Of course I do.” He nudged her hip with his. “I’m trying to charm their mother into going out with me next Monday.”

  Was this part of an elaborate revenge scheme? It had to be.

  She couldn’t let him charm her into forgetting that.

  She’d watched Nick and Walker over their pepperoni pizza. Was Nick his son? What would she do if he was?

  The smell of diesel fuel drifted past them in a blue cloud of smoke. The Go Karts were on the other side of the track now, and the noise wasn’t as loud. “I hope they’re having a good time,” he said, watching them. “It sounded like fun.”

  “You want to be out there, too, don’t you?”

  “Doesn’t it look like fun? Don’t you want to try it?”

  “I’d worry about being overcome by the testosterone fumes.”

  “It’s a well-known hazard of Go Kart racing.” He nodded gravely. “Hundreds are affected every year.” He grabbed her hand. “Let’s try it.”

  “Didn’t you ever drive one of those things when you were a kid?”

  “No.” The laughter disappeared from his face. “Come on, I’ll race you.”

  FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, laughing, she staggered off the track with Walker, Nick and Tommy. Her legs were still vibrating and her ears ringing.

  “You were awesome, Mom,” Tommy said. “You beat all of us.”

 

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