The fingers handcuffing her wrist were as implacable as the man. Jaymee didn’t know what to say. She had always chosen to just walk away when her father’s words began to hurt, retreating back to work. There were always reasons to excuse her father’s anger towards her. She had made them all, and accepted each accusation without retaliating. She now realized by not defending herself, she’d made her father worse. It’d never bothered her before, until this man—her lover—took exception to her father’s treatment of her.
“Nick, he’s on medication,” she said quietly.
“If he can’t stand to hear the truth, there’s always booze,” Nick scornfully said. “Deaf and blind. Nice way to live.”
“You don’t know what she did!” Bob’s face was livid with resentment. He looked shocked, unused to being put down by anybody. “I lost everything because of her! Everything!”
“What did she do? Took over your dead business and brought it back to life again? Paid off a house that would have been lost? What exactly have you lost, Bob Barrows? What’s missing but your pride?”
Bob just stared back, stunned. He looked like a bundle of shingles just hit him on the head. Nick calmly finished his cup of coffee and stood up, still holding Jaymee’s hand. Picking up another piece of toast, he walked to the door, with Jaymee in tow.
With a last glance at the silent man at the table, he added, “You just think about it, Barrows. What material things have you lost these last eight years you don’t have now? And who made sure you didn’t lose them? That fancy college education wasn’t such a waste, was it?”
Nick stepped onto the porch and turned to Jaymee, who stood staring up at him with mute amazement. A light smile touched the corners of his lips. “There’s no way I’m going to allow my woman to be treated like that. Now, where are we going to work today, boss?”
Big Bad Wolf: Chapter Eight
Jaymee sat in the garage of the new house, sipping a bottle of cola, during a break from work. Oh boy. She was in much, much more trouble than possible. Nick had taken her truck to get some ceramic tiles to fix a leak later this evening, when it would be cooler. It had been barely an hour and she was already missing him. She massaged the back of her neck, frowning. She sighed. Definitely, absolutely in trouble. She was in love with Nick Langley.
It had warmed her insides to see him defending her so fiercely that morning. No man had ever done that for her. It made her feel special she meant something to this man. But…she still wasn’t sure how to deal with him. She’d been so sure he was merely amusing himself, yet he did these things that confounded her. He was protective. And tender. And caring. She sighed again. The qualities that were so darn attractive.
There were so many things about him she didn’t know although she was piecing the puzzle together little by little. First, he was definitely not on the run. He didn’t strike her as someone who was constantly looking over his shoulder. Second, underneath that potent charm was the alertness of a hunter. After witnessing this morning’s episode with her father, she hadn’t a doubt Nick could take down anyone who was on the wrong side of him. Lastly, he was some kind of electronic expert who spoke legal and political terms with the ease of one educated in related fields. He watched; he played with electronics; he was in top physical condition. She smiled wryly at the last observation. Oh yes, she was very sure about the last fact. If she didn’t know how her imagination tended to be colorful where this man was concerned, she’d make him out to be some sort of military guy, like the Green Beret, or something. She’d read somewhere the Green Berets were electronic experts, could speak several languages, and trained like a machine. Oh yeah, right, Jaymee girl, she mocked, as she took another sip of her cola. Didn’t the same article showed some Green Berets carrying big, wicked-looking Bowie knives? She tried imagining Nick with a green beret and a Bowie knife. Cute. And she was going bonkers.
“I heard old Mindy is having her annual bash tomorrow, boss, is that right?” Dicker broke into her reverie.
“Hmmm? Oh. Yes. Are you going?”
“Maybe. If I’m not fishing or something.”
“Mindy makes the best barbecue, man. I’m going,” Lucky chimed in.
“Yeah, and if I go, I’ll have to shop for a birthday present,” Dicker grumbled, wrinkling his nose. “I ain’t no good with women’s things, man.”
“I would guess the same things your old lady likes, Dicker,” Lucky said, rubbing his beard.
“What, you mean Mindy wants me to paint the fence and buy her some lottery tickets?”
Jaymee laughed, shaking her head. “Now, Dicker, I’m sure you didn’t buy Rosy lottery tickets for her birthday!”
Dicker scratched his neck, looking sheepish. “Sure I did. Ten dollars worth. She was mighty happy coz she won a hundred bucks.”
“Man, you don’t have not one romantical bone in your body.” Lucky puffed out his chest. “I’m going to buy Mindy one of those sweet-smelling perfumes, what is it called — Possession.”
Dicker and Jaymee laughed at the misnamed product. “You mean, Obsession, Lucky,” Jaymee said.
Grinning back at them good-naturedly, Lucky shrugged. “Obsession, Possession, bah! I can name them perfumes way better.”
“And what are you gonna call your perfume?” Dicker wanted to know. “Fish-ion? Shingles?”
They all chuckled. “Roofing Cement Potion,” suggested Jaymee, still laughing.
“Or just plain Sweat,” Dicker bantered.
Lucky assumed a thoughtful air as he continued scratching his beard. “Nah, not sexy enough. I’ll name my perfume Lucky Charms. Yeah, just like me.”
They all hooted, and that was how Nick found them, laughing uproariously in the garage. One of his dark brows arched up. “Not laughing at some of my mistakes, I hope,” he said, putting down a can of roofing cement.
“That’s it! That’s it! Nick’s Mistake!” Lucky thumped an empty box and laughed so hard he fell off the cement block on which he was sitting. He managed to gasp out, “Oh, that would be some foul-smelling perfume.”
“We’ve somehow gotten around to naming Lucky’s new perfume which he’s going to give Mindy tomorrow,” Jaymee explained to the mildly amused and perplexed Nick, smiling up at him. “So far, our top contestants are Roofing Cement Potion, Sweat, and Lucky Charms. Besides Nick’s Mistake, of course.” She didn’t hide her laughter, as she added, “Not that we’re making fun of your work, Nick.”
All three of them went off again. Nick grinned, not minding being the butt of their jokes. It’d been a long time since he was made fun of that way, not since his days training with the army Rangers. Besides, he liked listening to Jaymee’s laugh. She didn’t do it enough.
“Nick is smart, man, he can name a perfume for a woman,” Dicker said, when they stopped for breath. “Unlike Luck-man’s Possession.”
“Sure he can,” agreed Lucky, his gap-toothed smile cheeky. “Remember he knows them big words that got Up-Chuck all flustered.”
“Now that’s what I would name my perfume for my old lady,” cracked Dicker. “All-Flustered. Perfect. What would you name your perfume, Langley?”
Jaymee chewed on her lower lip while the other two men turned expectant eyes at Nick. She knew it hadn’t escaped their notice Nick was wearing her tee-shirt that morning. She didn’t care whether there would be gossip. Enough with living with the fear people would continually bring up Danny. She’d never felt so alive, so comfortable. Looking at the tall man who had changed her outlook so much, she couldn’t even remember much about her old feelings for Danny.
There was simply no comparison.
She was also glad he was getting along with her workers. Dicker and Lucky now included him in their daily chats, and she liked the way Nick mixed with them so easily. Right now, his eyes were half-closed as he considered Dicker’s question about naming, of all things, a perfume. It struck her he just wasn’t the type of man who would sit around a bunch of guys playing name games. Again she had the odd feeling
he was hiding something.
“I don’t know. You guys have chosen all the good ones,” he joked. Leaning over, he picked up Jaymee’s cola and finished it off. She stared at him in fascination. Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he continued, “I supposed Smartass is out of the question? Or, Scary Screamer? Or Maniac?”
The other men chuckled, as if sharing some in-joke. Jaymee rolled her eyes, then stuck her tongue out at Nick. She would bide her time to punish smart-mouthiness. She was the boss, after all.
***
“Don’t feel so smart now, do you, Mr. Big Words?” Jaymee mocked Nick later that day. She’d left Dicker and Lucky at the job, taking him with her to fix the leak in the tile roof. At the moment, she stood with perfect balance, each foot planted on a ceramic tile, hands on her hips. She looked smugly at Nick, feeling slightly avenged for the knowing chuckles her men had given when he named his perfume. Tease her, would he? Well, let’s see how he felt being at the other end.
Nick concentrated on first making sure he didn’t slip. The ceramic tiles weren’t slippery, but because of their inverted ‘S’ shape, his big feet couldn’t fit on the dented part of the tile, like Jaymee’s did, and so he had to put his weight awkwardly on the rounded curve.
Crrrunch.
A crack line appeared under his foot. Wincing, he put his other foot down. Another crunching sound.
Normally, Jaymee would have given any employee the proper tongue-lashing, but the sight of the big man gingerly trying to walk toward her was almost worth the money she was going to lose, at the rate he was breaking the tiles. She just stood there, a big grin on her face.
“I’m going to take all the damage out of your paycheck tonight, if you don’t stop breaking them,” she warned sternly, but her mischievous smile gave her away.
“It’s like walking on eggs,” muttered Nick, when he reached her.
“You’re lucky I had you pick up those extra tiles this afternoon, or we’d have some missing pieces, what with those big feet of yours!”
Nick grinned. “OK, so I made it up here. Now what?”
Jaymee cocked her head. “Ever made love on a ceramic tile roof before?”
He groaned. “No, and I’m not going to start now.” He watched Jaymee turn around and nimbly walk up a few rows higher. Her butt was at eye level. He groaned again. “OK, we’ll do it.”
“Not if you can’t catch me,” she teased, squatting down and loosening one of the tiles. She pulled a few out of the way, and said, “Here, you can stand more comfortably on the fern strips below the tiles.”
Nick did as she suggested.
Jaymee pointed to the material exposed by the tiles. “That is called base sheet, and it’s thicker than felt paper. It’s meant to protect the roof, in case water gets under the tile.”
“Obviously, it doesn’t work, because the roof is leaking,” observed Nick.
“Usually it’s because there is a hole somewhere the previous roofer didn’t patch up, or they didn’t use base sheet, opting for lower grade material instead, and it rotted away because of the water. Sometimes they didn’t layer it properly.” She tapped on a water stain where she had taken out a tile. “There, see? That’s a clue, dear Mr. Watson.”
“How does water get under the tile, Sherlock?” Nick asked, squatting carefully down beside her.
Jaymee shrugged. “Cracked tiles, holes in the lead boot, could be a number of things. That’s why this ‘underlayment’ is very important. Finding leaks on tile roofs can be tricky, since water stains showing on the ceiling inside the house don’t usually match the spot on the roof. That’s because water moves differently when it travels under the tiles, like underground caverns, you know?”
“And these fern strips act like diverters, shooting the water in different directions, right?” Nick traced the water stain pattern above the little strips of wood that supported the tiles.
“Right. So, we have to follow this water stain, take off the tiles as we go, and tada!” Jaymee gestured dramatically.
“The leak!” Nick finished for her.
“Elementary, my dear Watson!”
By the time they were done, it was almost six o’clock. Nick enjoyed the new lesson. Searching for leaks on roofs wasn’t that different from the other kind of leaks he specialized in, he supposed. Look for the source and eliminate. In a general perspective, life in the outside world could be just as exciting. Then he remembered what was left of his beloved boat. And not so dangerous.
“So when can I add ‘leak expert’ as part of my construction man resume?” he quipped, as he loaded the truck with broken tiles.
Jaymee couldn’t resist it. Putting on her best Chinese accent, she parodied a line from a famous TV show. “When you can walk on tile and leave no crack, my son, then you are leak expert. Until then, I am still master.”
Nick grinned as he watched her throw her head back and laughed. She was getting feistier by the day. And suddenly, he wanted her again. She stopped in mid-laugh.
“Let’s get something to eat,” he said, his voice low and full of dark promise. “Then I’ll show you who your master is, little Red Grasshopper.”
Jaymee made a face at him. By now she’d learned to recognize that blatant male look. “What bad puns you have, Mr. Wolf.”
For the first time in eight years, she couldn’t wait to get home. After paying Dicker and Lucky, they prepared a simple meal together. Dinner was the way Jaymee had always imagined romance to be — on the back porch, with the view of the setting sun and the shadows and golden lights of the lake in the distance, and her lover feeding her cold meat and wine. They kissed and joked, drawing out the evening into night.
“Tomorrow, I’ll help you with the old house,” Nick said, lazily twirling her curls with his forefinger. The sunset was bright, making her hair a fiery halo. He remembered it against him, the way it caressed down his chest when she trailed kisses down his body. He shifted position.
Jaymee snuggled deeper into his lap. “You’re a hungry monster,” she murmured, absolutely aware of his discomfort.
“Wolf,” he corrected. “Let’s get to bed, so we can have your head start tomorrow.”
She chuckled. “I’m sure you want to just rest, so we can work on the remodeling,” she mocked.
“Of course. You don’t have to do a thing, just lie there,” he promised, and gently nudged her off his lap.
They were making their way to the old house, kissing and teasing each other, when Nick suddenly pulled her to a stop. He looked around sharply, his eyes alert. Puzzled, Jaymee followed his eyes, but there was nothing but trees and shadows.
“What is it?”
“Shhh.” Nick hadn’t been able to shake off that ‘being watched’ feeling for a few days now. This time, he was sure. Putting Jaymee behind his body, he carefully looked for signs.
Jaymee stared at the appearance of a knife in Nick’s hand. A huge, ugly thing, with serrated edges. A Bowie knife. Where had he hidden that thing?
A voice suddenly came out from among the shadows — disembodied, hushed, deadly. It made her blood run cold. “I was beginning to wonder whether you’d lost all your training.”
Jaymee gasped, looking around. She couldn’t see anything. Suddenly, out of nowhere, there was a swishing noise, and something streaked past. Nick cursed and grabbed his arm. She turned and gaped in horror.
It was the strangest feeling, as if she were watching everything from far away. But this was real; she knew it was unbelievably real. That was real blood oozing out between Nick’s fingers where he was clutching his bicep.
Big Bad Wolf: Chapter Nine
The evening sun was spotty among the trees and bushes, making it impossible to discern between shadows and shapes. Jaymee looked around, trying to calm her overworking imagination. Right now, even the trees looked gothic and menacing.
She glanced back Nick, who had instinctively pulled her closer. He wasn’t paying attention to her right now, his gaze darting around and searc
hing for their unseen assailant. The deadly expression on his face made her catch her breath.
There was a whooshing sound from her left, and he immediately pulled her out of the way. The thing, whatever it was, flew by her at tremendous speed, so close she felt the little breeze it made. She was too shocked to make a sound.
“Better,” the disembodied voice continued, dark and sinister in the stillness. “I think I’ll go for the jugular next.”
“Come out, damn it!” Nick challenged.
Jaymee could only stare in muted horror as a shadow jumped in front of him and started attacking. Nick pushed her from him with one hand while his other blocked a chop. She watched with disbelief as the two men fought, both strangely silent through their exertions. They moved in some kind of stylized exercise, although the grunts of pain when their punches and kicks connected told her the fight was quite real. Their assailant had his back to her. He wasn’t as tall as Nick, but was obviously as strong and capable, as he countered Nick’s blows with swift retaliation. She found herself gripping her throat in horror when one of his kicks connected and Nick cursed, grabbing at his wound, before he ducked low. The Bowie knife fell on the ground.
There must be something she could do! Wildly searching the ground around her, she picked up a sturdy looking branch. Without further thinking, she charged at the stranger with the branch high and aimed at his head. Either she missed, or he moved, she didn’t know—she had her eyes closed—and the momentum of her forceful blow brought her right in the middle of the action and she landed on her knees. Frightened out of her mind, she hurled the branch in her hand at the attacker, then whatever she could grab—rocks, twigs, dirt, whatever. Someone’s arm encircled hers to her body and lifted her off her feet. Screaming, she kicked out in panic, trying to escape, her loosened hair flying around her shaking head like a whip.
Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers Page 31
