Never Try To Explain

by Donna McDonald

  “Five or six?” Greg said, stupefied that she’d so easily put a quantity on fixing his masculine failings.

  “It’s just a guess,” Jellica said.

  Lifting his face, Greg hailed the waiter. “We’re going to need dessert.”

  “Why? Are we celebrating?” Jellica asked.

  Just that the worst date he’d ever had was almost over, but he couldn’t say that to the woman he intended to seduce eventually… once he’d managed to save her beautiful, broke ass. “Yes,” Greg said instead. “We’re celebrating our new reciprocal friendship.”

  “Then yes, I’d love some dessert.”

  He suddenly had visions of Jellica in black lace lingerie and matching four-inch heels. “Me too,” Greg whispered, his voice dropping low from just the thought of her in those sorts of clothes.

  In the end, they each ordered something different for dessert and split them. It was a pleasant ending to an awful beginning. Sure, he once again ended up alone for the evening, but at least this time, he’d talked his expensive date into a tomorrow.

  Jellica could have picked another accountant to help her, but she’d picked him. That was as much fate as he could grab on to. Now all he had to do was figure out how to seduce the woman while simultaneously helping her. It was every good guy’s dilemma.

  Or his Don Quixote moment tilting his lance at the lovely Jellica Quartz windmill.

  Only time would tell…

  “Then we had dessert and went home. All in all, it was a pretty good date and one I think fulfills my obligation to Mariah. Greg’s coming by the house to see me as soon as I dig up the paperwork he asked for. Why are you all looking at me that way?”

  “Sweetie, he’s lying to you,” Trudy said. “He doesn’t want… what was it again?”

  “Hotness lessons,” Ann supplied dryly, her eyebrows rising for the tenth time since Jellica told her story. “Even though he really could use some hotness lessons for real. If the man would only smile more, it could change everything about his dating life.”

  “Right,” Jellica interjected. “Greg has an amazing smile. It totally transforms his face.”

  Georgia sipped her coffee and said nothing.

  Trudy smacked her hand on the table. “Well,” she demanded, glaring at Georgia. “Don’t you have anything to offer to this unbelievable discussion?”

  “No. Jellica’s a grown woman. She has a right to make all the friends she wants,” Georgia said, her voice very calm.

  Jellica’s eyes bounced between the women. “Why is Georgia not making fun of me?”

  “Tell her,” Trudy ordered, frowning at Georgia.

  “No,” Georgia declared. “I refuse to be the bad guy.”

  “What bad guy?” Jellica asked. She stared at Georgia. “What are you not saying?”

  Georgia smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “The beauty of not saying anything is that you’re not saying anything. It’s a Zen riddle. You should appreciate that being a yoga teacher and all.”

  Jellica sighed. “Yoga is from India. Zen is a Japanese philosophy. You got your woo-woo cultures mixed up, Georgia.”

  “Better than me trying to turn a handsome, virile man into my personal lap dog. Jellica, the man you had dinner with was attracted to you and you shot him down hard. Call the poor bastard and tell him to stay the hell away. Men are hunters by nature—all of them—even the ones in sweater vests. Your insistence on the friend thing was the kind of challenge he’s probably been looking for all his life.”

  “Speaking of sweater vests,” Jellica said, giggling at the memory instead of responding to Georgia’s rant. “I ended up keeping his sweater vest as a souvenir of our date. It still smells like sandalwood. That is some great cologne he uses. How long do you think the smell will last?”

  Georgia lifted a hand and stared at Trudy. “See? I tried. There’s no getting through.”

  Trudy nodded and closed her eyes. “I know. She’s got a bad case of functional fixation.”

  “Hey,” Jellica said. “I’m the closet psychiatrist in our group. Don’t be throwing psycho-babble around without me participating.”

  “Sweetie, you are participating and you shouldn’t be,” Trudy said, raising her voice.

  Ever the peacemaker, Ann cleared her throat. “Jellica, you need to be careful. Letting that man into your life could be a bad idea. You don’t really know him. One date is not enough to give that much trust away.”

  Jellica raised her hand. “I happen to think I’m a great judge of character. I’m friends with the three of you, aren’t I? Well, I’m going to be friends with Greg too. You’ll see. It will all work out. I promise.”

  After Jellica left, they all hung back. Ann said it first. “There’s nothing we can do, is there?”

  “If he hurts her, we’ll probably have to mop up the blood after one of us kills him. I think we should make a pact about it before the cops have to be called in,” Georgia said flatly.

  Trudy ran a hand over her face. “I can’t stand by and watch this happen. I have to stop this.”

  “Jellica’s a grown woman, Trudy,” Georgia pointed out. “She has a right to make her own mistakes.”

  “But she’s a child about men,” Trudy insisted, “and I won’t stand by and let anyone hurt her again when I can damn well stop it from happening this time.” She gathered up her things. “I’m going to go have a little talk with her sweater vest-loving accountant.”

  “She’ll hate you for intervening,” Georgia warned.

  “If this was Mariah, and she’d fallen in love with another jerk, what would you do?” Trudy asked.

  Georgia studied the ceiling. “That’s a tough one. Let’s see. I probably would dig Ted’s military pistol out of the closet and buy a box of shells. There’s something scary about an old woman packing a gun. I’d also make sure the bastard knew the bullets had his name on them. But that’s just me…”

  “Well, I don’t own a gun,” Trudy said, exasperated by her feelings of helplessness. “All I have is money, but I damn well know how to use that.”

  She forgot to grab her purse when she ran out and had to return for it.

  “I’ll let you know if the cops get involved. You might have to bail me out,” Trudy said before exiting again.

  “Momma Trudy is certainly not happy with our little girl dating again,” Georgia commented.

  “You know what they say, Georgia. When Momma’s not happy—nobody’s happy,” Ann said, playing off the old joke.

  Then she and Georgia both laughed because that was all they could do until the storm blew over.

  Chapter Seven

  After his ego squashing date with Angelica Quartz, Greg had decided taking some time off was a good idea because he obviously needed to rethink his life. Temporary madness was the only explanation he could come up with for why he’d agreed to exchange hotness lessons for his research services.

  What in hell had he been thinking? Simply that Jellica had the most beautiful face he’d ever seen in his life. Really? Like that was enough reason to get himself into a relationship as strange as this was no doubt going to be.

  Now here he was parking on her street four days after their so-called date and he was still churning over his own agreement to go along with her crazy. At least he had a semi-decent goal tonight. He was going to find a way to clarify his interest and make her reject him outright. It would be an ending free and clear of any stupid idea he’d harbored about saving her financially.

  Earlier Jellica had sent him a text with directions to her house. Did she frequently do that with men she barely knew? It boggled his mind to even consider the ramifications of such an open policy on life.

  Running from his own idiocy about Jellica appealed so he rang the doorbell before he had a chance to change his mind. It opened immediately. Greg looked up slightly into her guard dog’s eyes.

  “Hi, I’m Noah. You must be the infamous Mr. Skyler my mother’s been talking about all week.”

  “No
, I’m just her friend, Greg,” he said dryly, following the boy’s sweeping hand inside. “My father was Mr. Skyler. He’s dead now.”

  “Okay, but you are looking for my mom, right?”

  “Is your mother Angelica Quartz?”

  “Last time I checked,” Noah said dryly, working to match Skyler’s snooty tone.

  “Bro… stop harassing him. Mom said to be polite.”

  Greg turned at yet another male voice. This one looked like it was coming from the same face, but it was smoother with a less snarky edge. He stuck out his hand to the second guard dog. “Hi. I’m Greg.”

  “And I’m Eric. Mom said you were coming by,” Eric said back, nodding as he shook their visitor’s hand. “She’s just finishing up. I guess it’s okay you came early. They were losing the light anyway.”

  “This should be good,” a snickering Noah murmured before walking around him. Greg raised an eyebrow when Noah’s brother, Eric, punched his arm.

  “Am I interrupting something important?” Greg asked.

  “No. You’re just a few minutes early. Mom doesn’t do early well,” Eric said quietly.

  “Actually, I’m right on time,” Greg pointed out.

  “If you say so,” Eric declared with a shrug. “Guess you can wait in the kitchen with us.”

  Greg tagged along behind the two boys until he entered what anyone could see was the heart of Jellica’s home. It was everything a family kitchen was supposed to be—warm, welcoming, and had a plate of cookies on the counter. He liked it immediately. “Can I sit at the bar?”

  “Suit yourself,” one of the boys told him, but Greg had lost track of which one was speaking.

  He perched on the barstool and looked around with genuine interest. Then a breathless Jellica walked down the hall giggling at something a tall, lean man said to her. She was wearing a sheet and his imagination whispered there was nothing but her naked body was beneath it. Greg nodded to the man as he profusely apologized to him for keeping Jellica so long. Saying nothing about her lateness, Jellica finger waved to Greg and promised to be right back as she went to show the man out.

  When the two disappeared down the hallway, Greg swallowed his enormous discomfort over the scene and tried to find his spine. Moments later, an excited Jellica reappeared in the doorway again. Highlighted now by the hallway light, he could clearly see the outline of her perfect and very naked body through the white sheet. Her sons didn’t even turn around… or look at him. But males knew about lusting from an early age. He was sure his intentions were a secret only from the woman herself.

  “Hi, Greg. Let me get dressed and I’ll be right back,” Jellica said, not offering any other explanation.

  Brittany’s off-color comments about Jellica becoming a porn star came back to haunt his wandering mind once more. He shook them off, but it was a lot harder now that he’d confirmed she was naked beneath that damn sheet.

  Greg cleared his throat and glanced at both boys. “Your mother poses for an artist, right?”

  “Bingo,” Noah said, grinning at the question. “We were wondering if she’d warned you. Mom doesn’t always think of herself in conventional terms. She doesn’t know how she lives is unusual. Know what I mean?”

  “No. I have no clue,” Greg admitted.

  “Ignore my brother,” Eric said, bringing him a glass of ice water. “This is infused with lemon. Mom makes it fresh every day.”

  “Thanks,” Greg said, thinking how easy it was to tell the twins apart when they spoke.

  “Okay, I’m here—finally,” Jellica said, still breathless from hurrying. “Sorry to keep you waiting. That’s no way to treat a friend.”

  Greg saw the boys both doing eye rolls behind their mother’s head. Even they knew his interest wasn’t what their mother thought it was, but he was stupidly determined to stay on his quest. This beautiful woman would rue the day she considered him merely sturdy and reliable. “You have a nice kitchen and very polite sons.”

  Jellica swung around to stare at her grinning, red-haired progeny. “Thank you. They were so cute as babies I had to keep feeding them.” She turned back and laughed as she looked around. “This is my favorite place in the house, which is a good thing because I spend a lot of time in here.”

  “I cook too,” Greg admitted.

  “You do?”

  He nodded at her surprised response. His favorite ice-breaker had come to his conversational rescue once again. “I took classes several years ago. Now I get my recipes from social media. I even post photos of my failures and successes.”

  Her laughter filled the room. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously,” he assured her.

  Jellica ran a hand through her hair. “I fed the boys earlier, but there’s some vegetarian lasagna left if you’re hungry.”

  “Are you a vegetarian?” Greg asked.

  “Can’t be one. I have growing boys to feed. They need protein. Meat is a staple for most meals, but I felt the urge for something different tonight.”

  “Sorry for the questions. I’d love some lasagna. I missed lunch today.”

  “Great. I’ll eat with you,” Jellica said. “I missed lunch too.”

  By the time she’d climbed on a stool beside him, Greg had a steaming plate of lasagna and a salad to eat as well. It all smelled amazing.

  “Why are you staring at the food? Doesn’t it look okay?” Jellica asked.

  “It looks great. I just can’t remember the last time someone I personally knew cooked for me. Not even my mother cooks these days. She uses a catering service for most of our obligatory family meals.”

  “I cook out of necessity, but I promise it’s all edible. It’s organic too… and not a single bit of tofu was killed in the process.”

  “You’re never going to forget our discussion, are you?” Greg asked.

  “Maybe. We’ll see,” Jellica said, digging into her food. “I’m starved.”

  “Me too,” Greg said, liking the way her hair escaped her ponytail and fell over the sides of her face. It made her look vulnerable instead of invincible. That probably wasn’t a fair observation considering the kind of internal strength a woman needed to raise two sons alone, but the devil had hold of him. He was purposely looking for her soft spots. Her vulnerability was uppermost in his mind.

  “Did you have any trouble finding the house?” Jellica asked.

  Greg shook his head. “No. I used my GPS. Who gets lost these days?”

  “People who don’t have a GPS?” Jellica offered.

  “Let me guess. You don’t have one,” Greg said, trying to understand what made her tick.

  Jellica grinned at him. “Mostly I use the force to navigate where I need to go. If I get truly lost, I stop and ask for directions. I’m female. It’s in my DNA.”

  “How does it work?”

  “What?” Jellica asked.

  “Using the force,” Greg clarified.

  “Oh,” Jellica said, knowing a lecture was coming soon. It always did when she tried to explain herself to someone new. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

  “Positive,” Greg said firmly.

  “Well,” Jellica said, staring across the kitchen. “I look up the general directions on my computer and print them out—if we have paper. Otherwise, I jot them down on whatever I can find to write on. Then I head off. When I come to a spot in the turns where it’s unclear which way to go, I do a bit of deep breathing and then ask my intuition to point me in the right direction. I sort of instantly know which way to go after that.”

  “Huh,” Greg said, studying the remnants of his delicious meal. “This is great lasagna.”

  “It’s okay, Greg,” Jellica said, reaching over to pat his hand. “There’s no need to divert the conversation. You aren’t the first person who ever thought I was crazy.”

  “Trusting your intuition is not crazy at all,” Greg said firmly. “Sometimes in my work I have a dozen choices about where to look for the answers to a problem I’m solving. My gut gets
involved and tells me which to choose. It saves me tons of time to listen to that inner voice of mine. You would call that my intuition, right?”

  Jellica shrugged. “I suppose.”

  Greg nodded. “Good. Now we have at least one thing in common. I’m not getting rid of my GPS just yet though. I don’t know if my intuition is any good at giving driving directions. Trust goes both ways. I think I’m going to keep that little bossy piece of technology riding shotgun on my dash for now.”

  Jellica’s delighted giggle had him smiling. He actually felt his mouth lifting this time. “And the food really is good. I wasn’t trying to divert.”

  “Thank you,” Jellica said, smiling back. “Sorry I assumed. Chalk it up to my baggage.”

  “Unpack it,” Greg ordered, holding her gaze with his. “You’re not going to need it with me, especially not if we’re going to be… friends.”

  Jellica hung her head. “My girlfriends think you’re just saying that. They said you want more.”

  Greg finished and carefully placed his fork on his plate. He hadn’t expected her to provide his segue, but he wasn’t going to pass it up either. “They’re right. I want more than friendship.”

  “Seriously?” Jellica asked.

  “Seriously,” Greg answered. He pointed a finger at her. “Moments ago you were walking nearly naked down your hallway with a man. You can’t be completely naïve about my entire gender.”

  “Philippe is an artist. He’s going to feature his painting of me in his gallery show next month. He’s paying me a lot of money to pose for him. I couldn’t refuse.”

  “Okay. That’s not as bad as becoming a porn star, now is it?” Greg asked.

  “Of course not…” Jellica stopped and blinked. “Who said anything about me becoming a porn star?”

  Damn Brittany and her teasing. Greg winced internally but firmed his jaw to keep his chagrin from showing. “I believe it was implied by your defensive explanation of something that’s technically none of my business.”

  “It was?” Jellica asked.

  Greg nodded solemnly, hoping he’d managed to save his own ass. “However, since you did explain yourself, I now have an opening to make a personal observation about it. You’re so incredibly beautiful that I’m sure his painting of you will be his masterpiece.”