by Cindi Madsen
He reluctantly stood up and headed over to the bar.
Another song started and Stephanie and Anthony didn’t come back. When I’d thought about getting out, sitting in a nightclub by myself wasn’t what I had in mind.
Is that my phone? I could barely hear it over the noise. I dug my cell out of my purse and stared at the display. Jake.
Finger over the accept button, I went back and forth on whether I should answer.
“You look sad sitting here all by yourself,” a guy said as he approached, interrupting my dilemma. He extended his hand. “Come dance with me.”
I was going to say I should save the table, but Anthony and Stephanie were making their way back.
What the hell? I might as well try to have a good time while I’m here.
I took his outstretched hand and let him lead me to the dance floor. It had been a while since I’d danced in a nightclub. Not much had changed: girls in Barbie-size clothes danced like they were auditioning to be America’s next top stripper; one look-at-me girl was dancing on the platform; people grinded against one another.
The guy who’d led me to the floor threw his arms around me and started swaying to the beat. Within seconds, he leaned in for a kiss.
I jerked away. “Whoa, buddy. Aren’t you supposed to buy a girl a drink first?”
“I’ve got some wine at my apartment.” He pulled me closer. “It’s only a few blocks away.”
“How nice for you.” I stepped back. “I’m all danced out.”
I huffed off the floor and went back to sit with Stephanie and Anthony.
“That was quick,” Steph said.
“Yeah. He thought I’d be interested in the fact that he has an apartment a few blocks away. I wasn’t.”
Stephanie leaned her head on Anthony’s shoulder. “I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with that anymore.” She shot a pointed look at me. “You wouldn’t have to deal with it either if you weren’t so stubborn.”
“The point was to forget about everything, not have it rubbed in my face.”
“But part of a best friend’s duty is pointing out things you might not want to hear.”
Karl sat down in the chair next to me. “How’d it go with the blonde?” I asked.
“Had a nice conversation. Got her number. So, we’ll see.”
The four of us sat there, listening to the music as the lights bounced around the room. Watching all the other people mingle wasn’t making me feel better. I’d wanted to get out so badly, but now that I was out, I kept thinking it really wasn’t all that great.
Chapter Twenty-four
Since I had a basic idea of Jake’s schedule, it wasn’t too hard to keep from running into him. I headed to the office early and made sure to avoid coming or going into the building around the time Blue closed.
The Lion Inn job was becoming an even bigger mess by the day. Now the owners were talking about adding a few extended-stay suites. They wanted a whole different look for the rooms, and I just didn’t have the same passion that I had for my residential jobs.
At least I get to see Mrs. Crabtree today, I thought as I pulled into her neighborhood. She’d asked if I wanted to do lunch at Blue first—her treat—but I told her I couldn’t get away from the office that early. Which was true. But mostly I couldn’t see Jake. It was only Wednesday and I was going through withdrawals.
Mrs. Crabtree greeted me in typical grandmother form, offering cookies and asking about my day. She led me to the bathroom and I studied the pink-striped wall. The painters had done a great job on it. I bent down and studied the new baseboards. “I think it looks great. Do you like it?”
Mrs. Crabtree nodded enthusiastically. “I really do. Clyde told me he thought I was crazy for wanting a pink bathroom. When I showed it to him, he put his arm around me and said if I’m happy, he’s happy. I think once we get everything else into place it’s going to be perfect.”
“I better get to work, then.”
I kicked off my ruffled, red suede pumps and worked on getting the bathroom together. I hung shadow boxes, filled them with knickknacks—one of them being the sculpture I’d bought from Tina. Looking at the glass-blown flower made me think about how Jake had carried it home for me. If only I’d said no that night, I wouldn’t be thinking about him now.
I shook that thought from my head and got to work on the last touches: hanging pink daisy towels and placing the rugs around the room. I’d had it all planned out in my mind, but it turned out even better than expected.
Mrs. Crabtree beamed when she saw the finished room. “I’ve got to go get Clyde and show him. I bet he’s reading the paper in his den.”
I put my shoes back on, gathered my leveler and hammer, stuck them back into my toolbox, and set it by my purse.
Then I heard an awful noise. A noise I couldn’t quite place, but immediately told me something was wrong. I hurried through the house, searching for where it was coming from. Through the open door of the den, I saw Mrs. Crabtree leaning over her husband.
“Something’s wrong with him,” she cried.
The antique desk in the corner had a phone on top. I picked it up and punched in 911.
…
I pulled my car into the parking garage and made my way to the elevator. I’d been trying to hold it together, but I could feel myself cracking. My eyes burned, a giant lump had permanently lodged in my throat, and a steady rhythm of pain pounded through my head.
I climbed on the elevator, leaned against the wall, and ran a hand through my hair. The elevator stopped on the first floor and Jake got on. I didn’t say anything for fear I’d start crying.
Jake’s eyebrows drew together. He reached out and put his hand on my arm, his eyes searching mine. “Darby? What’s wrong?”
If he wouldn’t have asked, I might’ve made it. “Mrs. Crabtree’s husband had a stroke. I went to the hospital with her and it was awful.” I felt a tear slide down my cheek. “All while we waited for the rest of her family to get there, Mrs. Crabtree told me stories of their sixty years together. I kept praying Clyde would be okay, but…” I forced the last few words out. “He didn’t make it.”
Jake pulled me to him and I buried my head in his chest. I’d wanted to get home before losing it. Now that he had his arms around me, though, I couldn’t keep it in any longer. The tears broke free and the raw achy sensation in my chest spread until I thought I might crumble to the ground. Mrs. Crabtree was one of my favorite clients, and I’d had to sit there and watch her world get turned upside down.
Jake kept me tucked against him as we stepped off the elevator and walked down the hall to my door. Once inside, he led me to the couch and sat down next to me.
“I hardly even knew him, but it was so sad.” I leaned my head on Jake’s shoulder. He put his arm around me and ran his hand up and down my arm. My phone rang again. I didn’t bother moving.
“You need to get that?” he asked softly.
“It’s my boss. She’s called me about ten times, but I was too drained to answer. I’m sure she’s upset about something.” His shirt smelled like cologne and faintly like Blue. The thought of food made my stomach growl. I put my arm over it, trying to quiet it.
“Have you eaten dinner yet?”
“I’m fine. I’ll grab some cereal in a minute.”
Jake patted my knee. “You sit here. I’ll whip something up.”
“You don’t have to. I’m fine. Really.” The fact he was being so nice—especially after everything that happened between us—made me feel like a huge jerk.
“I know I don’t have to.” Jake walked over to my kitchen. He opened cupboards and studied the things I had—a whole lot of nothing. “How do you feel about pancakes?”
“Sounds perfect.”
After I collected myself, I listened to the messages from Patricia. I didn’t have the energy to explain everything that had happened, and I didn’t want to talk to her anyway, so I sent her a lengthy text with the important details.
&nbs
p; Jake set a giant stack of pancakes in front of me, along with a bottle of syrup. “I’ve got to get back to work. Do you need anything else before I go?”
I shook my head. “Thank you, Jake. I don’t deserve it.”
He cupped my cheek and wiped a tear away with his thumb. “Call me if you need anything.”
I barely restrained myself from begging him not to go.
…
Mrs. Crabtree and her stories about her husband stuck with me. I went to bed thinking about her, and immediately thought of her again the next morning. As soon as I got into the office, I sent flowers, wishing I could do something more helpful.
Jake was also on my mind. He’d come in and made me dinner, even after I’d basically dumped and avoided him. Digging into the Lion Inn account seemed like an impossible task, but I didn’t have a choice. With all the catching up I had to do, I worked through lunch.
At five, I couldn’t take it anymore.
The walk to Blue was nice. It gave me the chance to prepare a speech thanking Jake for his help last night and telling him how much I appreciated his friendship, then reaffirming that he deserved a girl who had the same stance as he did on relationships.
When I got to Blue, Mindy informed me Jake wasn’t in.
I walked back to the office, got my car, and headed home. My speech got lengthier on the drive. The more I thought about it, the more I knew it was the right thing to do. Tell him I cared, but insist he’d be better off without me. Surely he’d understand that he meant a lot to me even though we couldn’t be together.
Worried I might lose the courage to give my speech if I went to my place first, I got into the elevator and punched the button for the twentieth floor.
My heart raced as I stepped out of the elevator. My stomach churned as I walked down the hall. By the time I knocked on the door, I was a nervous, sweaty wreck.
Jake opened the door and all the words I planned on saying flew out of my head. I threw my arms around his neck, and smashed my mouth to his, kissing him the way I’d been thinking about kissing him for days.
Jake pulled me into his place, closed the door, and pinned me against it. With each caress of his tongue, heat built up in my body, until every inch of me was burning. I was seconds from getting carried away and ripping off his shirt when he broke the kiss.
His chest rose and fell against mine. He ran his nose across the top of my cheek and kissed the sensitive spot under my ear, sending a delicious chill down my spine. “Hey.”
I bit my lip, barely managing to suppress a moan. “I came to thank you for last night.”
His warm breath tickled my neck. “Much better than a card.”
This was the moment to follow up with the rest of it.
“I’m on my way to meet some friends for dinner,” Jake said. “You wanna come with me?”
“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your plans. I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate what you did last night. Even though I didn’t deserve it.”
Jake put a hand on my hip, the way he had the first night we met. And like the first night we met, it sent my pulse skyrocketing. “You wouldn’t be intruding. We’re just meeting at Buffalo Wild Wings to watch the game. Tina and her boyfriend will be there, and a couple of guys I play in a basketball league with.”
Meeting his friends. More entanglement. Opposite of what I was supposed to be doing…
He slipped his hand behind me and pulled me tighter against him, making my thoughts go fuzzy. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
The grin he flashed did me in. Especially as I took in his T-shirt, jeans, and baseball cap. Casual and sporty looked good on him. I, on the other hand, was wearing a cream-colored silk shirt that didn’t seem like a good idea when it came to eating bright orange wings. “Do I have time to change?”
…
Jake and I walked into Buffalo Wild Wings. Flat-screen televisions hung on every wall, so no matter where you were, you could see some kind of sporting event playing out. He grabbed my hand and led me to a table in the back with a great view of a giant screen.
“Hey, everyone,” Jake said. “This is Darby.”
A sea of greetings came at me.
“You know Tina.” She was next to an attractive guy with a shaved head and the biggest arms I’d ever seen. “That’s Vinnie.”
“Adam…” Jake pointed at the scrawny guy with the goatee, then the athletic-looking guy with the dirty-blond hair. “And that’s Pete.”
“Nice to meet you all.” I scooted in next to Tina and Jake sat on the other side of me.
“I’m almost done with your friend’s vases,” Tina said. “They’re turning out really well, if I do say so myself.”
“You totally saved the day.”
“I owe you, too. I’ve had several people come in and tell me you referred them.”
Jake put his arm around me. “So which wings do you want? They have just about every kind you can think of. We usually get a big thing and mix and match.”
My phone rang and I groaned. “Sorry. It’s my boss again. Just get whatever; I’m not picky.”
With the music and the talking, I couldn’t hear myself think, much less what Patricia was saying. I nudged Jake. He moved, and I tried to get away from the noise.
I stepped into the quietest corner I could find, pressed my phone to my ear, and used my free hand to plug the other ear. “What was that?”
“Where’s Nadine?” Patricia asked, annoyance filling her voice.
“I have no idea. Did you call her cell?”
“Of course I did. I need a number from her, but she’s not picking up. I was hoping you had it.”
“Didn’t Nadine give you the entire vendor list?”
Patricia exhaled loudly enough I could hear it through the phone. “I’m out to dinner. I don’t have it with me.”
Sure, she gets to go out to dinner.
As luck would have it, I had the number she was looking for stored in my phone. I rattled it off, hung up, and headed back to the table.
“So she’s just going to come in and out whenever she feels like it?” Tina asked.
Jake shrugged. “It’s not like—”
“Hey, Darby,” Adam said, nice and loud, leading me to believe that Jake and Tina were talking about me.
“Sorry about that,” I said. “I’ve got this big project at work that my boss won’t leave me alone about.”
Jake stepped aside so I could get to my seat, then sat back down beside me. The guys were all focused on the Rockies game going on the wall opposite us. A guy from the Yankees caught the ball that the batter popped into the air.
Everyone groaned except Jake. His lips curved into a megawatt grin. “You guys are so going down tonight.”
Adam reached for a fried mozzarella stick. “No way. We can still win.”
Glancing at the score, I saw the Rockies were down by seven. “So you’re a Yankees fan,” I said to Jake, though it was pretty obvious, what with the cheering and the Yankees cap he was sporting.
“Born and raised. Every year these guys claim the Rockies are going to win one, but they always lose.” He put his hand on my thigh. “You care about baseball?”
“Uh, no. The only more boring sport on TV is golf. Or bowling. I can handle a football game now and then, but I don’t care enough to go out of my way to watch one.”
Adam’s mouth dropped. “I don’t know if we can let you hang out with us if you don’t care about sports. It’s what we’re all about.”
“I’ll let you in on a secret. Most girls don’t care about sports. They just say they do to impress you. Once you’re hooked, they’ll start complaining about how much you watch. Only a select few actually like to sit around yelling at the TV, acting like they can influence the outcome of the game.”
“She’s right,” Pete said. “I’ve had girlfriends who say they’re huge sports fans, then a few months in, they want to go out when the game’s on. And if you come to a place like this, they accuse you of
ignoring them.”
“Tina likes sports,” Vinnie said.
Tina nodded. “I do. I grew up in a house with four brothers and played every sport I could in high school. I don’t yell at the TV, though.”
“Oh!” Jake hollered. “Look at that hit! Go three, go three.” The batter rounded the bases, making it to third seconds before the baseman caught the ball. Jake inclined his head to me, though his gaze remained on the TV screen. “See, if the Rockies win, I have to buy. If the Yankees win, they have to pay.” He raised his voice, glancing around the table. “What are we up to now? Like, three in a row?”
The other guys complained and grumbled. I sat there, listening to them discuss the best teams, thinking about my no-sports-fanatics rule.
How do I know if Jake’s just your average fan or the guy who can’t miss a game? And how much does it matter, since I can’t stop breaking my rules with him anyway?
A few minutes later, a heated debate about pitchers broke out. None of them could agree who was the best, and they all had strong opinions about it.
Jake nudged me. “Care to weigh in?”
“My favorite pitcher is glass,” I said. “I got it at Pottery Barn. It’s handblown—kind of like what Tina does, but not as colorful. I especially like it when it’s full of something to drink.”
Jake shook his head, but he was smiling. “Pretty funny. Since you don’t really care, just say Mariano Rivera. The guy’s won five World Series with the Yankees and is one of the best closers of all time. Isn’t that impressive?”
I put my hand on his neck and ran my fingers through the ends of his hair. “Next time I can’t fall asleep, I’m going to call you and have you tell me baseball stats. I’m sure I’ll be asleep in no time.”
Adam jumped up, rocking the table. “Look at that! He’s out.” He pointed at Jake. “So much for your big hitter.”
The trash talk started up again, barely settling down when the waitress brought a giant platter of wings, fries, and onion rings.
I sat back and ate, watching everyone else get really into the game. Every now and then Jake would smile at me, squeeze my thigh, give me a quick kiss, or ask how I was doing. The bustle of the place, the way the guys got so into the game—I was actually enjoying watching it all unfold.
