by Dinah McLeod
“Hello!” she called out as she swung it open, trying to summon some of Candice’s cheerful charm, even if she was just faking it.
“Hello there!” Her friend laughed, stepped forward to give her a quick hug. “Someone’s in a good mood today!”
If ‘faking it’ was a good mood, what was she normally? She shuddered to think.
“Come on in.” She opened it wider so that the two women could come in from the cold.
No sooner did she shut it than Candice stepped forward, beaming her familiar sweet smile. “Kaitlyn, this is my friend I was telling you about, Jamie. Jamie, this is my friend and student,” here she gave a wink, “Kaitlyn.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Kaitlyn looked at the woman she’d been introduced to. She gave a small smile when she found Jamie doing the same to her. “So… Candice tells me that you’re new to the area.”
“Not new, exactly.” She licked her lips nervously and smiled. “I lived here about six years ago, before my family moved. Now that I’ve been out of college for a few years, I decided to come back.”
“I’m sure Candice is thrilled.”
“Oh, I am!” she chimed in her agreement, giving Jamie a squeeze. “She’s such a doll, I just know you’ll love her, Kaitlyn! The three of us will be the three musketeers and get in all kinds of trouble,” she giggled.
“It must be nice to be getting reacquainted with the city,” Kaitlyn offered.
“Everyone’s been very nice.”
“Jamie is an overachiever,” Candice shared. “She’s doing such a good job getting reacquainted that she already has a date tonight!”
“Oh?” She arched an eyebrow.
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Of course it is! I can’t believe you haven’t already heard, Kaitlyn!”
She stared back at Candice, her brow furrowed. Why would she have heard that a girl she’d only met ten minutes ago had a date?
“I don’t know if you recall, but a few weeks ago I asked about your friend, Jarrod.”
She felt a vise around her chest at the mere mention of his name. She could only guess what was coming, and she was positive she wasn’t going to like it.
“I managed to hear through the grapevine a few days ago that he and his lady friend must have broken things off!”
Kaitlyn stared blankly, feeling the vise tighten. Her breath was coming in small, quick spurts.
“You should have told me!” her friend scolded.
“I didn’t know,” she mumbled, suddenly feeling unsteady on her feet. “Please, have a seat.” She was hoping to get two birds with one stone: for one, she’d get on solid ground, and for two, she could change the subject and give herself time to think before she completely made a fool of herself by passing out on the floor.
But before she could say a word, Candice was at it again. “In any case, my husband mentioned that our friend had just moved back, that she’s single,” she gave Jamie a significant look, “and one thing led to another. Can you believe, I asked him to inquire weeks ago and he suddenly remembered! Isn’t it the darndest thing? Men. Well,” she reached over and patted Jamie’s hand, “perhaps you’ll have better luck with Jarrod.”
How could she have better luck with Jarrod? He was her Jarrod, hers and Sean’s and he didn’t have time for anyone else. Besides, what was Candice thinking? That he and Jamie would go on one date—why the hell had he even agreed to a date, anyway?—and then end up at Macy’s picking out china patterns?
The whole thing was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. She would have happily told them both so, but she knew that spoken aloud it was sound even more crazy than it did in her head. After all, when it came right down to it, she didn’t really have any claim to Jarrod.
The thought was a sobering one.
“Did I lose you, Kaitlyn?”
“What? Oh, no. I’m sorry. I was just thinking about our cooking lesson. I hope you have fun tonight,” she added as an aside to Jamie—yet another lie.
“I am excited about today’s lesson!” Candice clapped. “Braised lamb shank! You’ll never eat lamb any other way, I promise.”
She’d never eaten lamb, period, but that was probably beside the point.
“Before we get started, I need to use the ladies’ room. If you two will excuse me, I’ll be right back.”
Kaitlyn watched her leave, feeling numb. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so stunned. The worst part was that there was nothing she could do about it.
“So… Candice tells me you know Jarrod pretty well?”
“Pretty well,” she parroted blankly.
“I was just wondering… could you give me a few pointers? I mean, tell me what he’s like?”
When her timid questions reached her ears, Kaitlyn felt her fog being lifted. She looked at Jamie a little closer, taking in her short, curly brown hair. She had a smattering of freckles on her cheeks and a perfect button nose. Even worse were her large, doe-brown eyes. She was petite and curvy in all the right places.
The more she looked, the more she wished she hadn’t bothered. God help her, but Jamie was exactly his type. She seemed meek and obedient to boot. She’d misjudged Candice, who’d seemed to already know what she was just now coming to realize. Once the two of them met, it would be all over. He’d pop the question within a week and she’d be getting her invitation in the mail shortly after.
She looked away and slumped down in her chair even more morose than she’d been mere seconds ago. “Sure. Fire away.”
“Well, I was just wondering, you know. What kind of girl does he like?”
You. It was on the tip of her tongue to say it, but she just couldn’t do it. She swallowed it back, not surprised at the bitter taste it left behind. “Tall,” she supplied. And then, since she was already on a roll when it came to fabricating the truth, she kept going. “Blond, you know, blue eyes, long legs. The all-American girl-next-door type.”
“Oh.” Jamie tried to smile, but it fell flat. “Well. I guess at least I’ll get a free meal out of the deal, huh?” She gave a short laugh that sounded forced.
“He’s cheap,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. God, the poor girl looked nearly seasick from what she’d said already. She should just stop while she was ahead, but she couldn’t seem to close her mouth. Now that she’d started, a plan had formed—it was half-baked, but a plan nonetheless. If she could talk him down, make him sound so god-awful that no one in their right mind would date him, then Jamie would call it off. She’d have to.
“So… so you’re saying I should plan to go Dutch?”
“I would.” Jamie’s smile was now so paper-thin she almost felt sorry for her. Or would have, if they’d been talking about any other guy. “Or, you know, you could say you got a migraine.” She laughed, watching closely to see the girl’s reaction.
“Yeah… I guess. But you know, Candice went through so much trouble… or rather, put the general through so much, I’d hate to do that.”
Ugh, what was with this stupid girl? Hadn’t she said enough to make him look like the most unlovable bachelor? Apparently not. Apparently, if she really wanted this to work, she’d have to go deeper.
But it gave her pause. The truth was, Jarrod was quite a catch. Of course he was. And he rarely went on dates, so if he was going on this one, obviously he was looking to find someone. The right thing to do would be to confess to her brand of fiction and set the record straight. But if she did that… he already wasn’t coming around as it was, and there was a chance—however slight—that if given the right amount of time, he’d start visiting once more. But if he met this doe-eyed virgin—she couldn’t be proof-positive, but she practically oozed virginal appeal—it’d be over. She wouldn’t stand a chance of seeing what the three of them were now—if they were anything at all. And while she didn’t have anything against Jamie personally, she had to have that chance.
“It’s so odd. I talked to Kate on Saturday, and she said she and
Jarrod were doing fine.” She furrowed her brow as she pretended to ponder it. “I guess I must have missed something. Well, he sure works fast!”
“No.” Jamie was shaking her head. “No, we’ve had this set up for over a week.”
“Hmm. That doesn’t make sense.”
“No. No, it doesn’t.”
“All right, girls!” Candice chirped as she walked back into the living room. “Who’s ready to get cooking?”
Kaitlyn couldn’t take her eyes off Jamie. The girl looked pale, her freckles striking against her whitish complexion.
“Um, actually, Candice, I’ve got a migraine all of a sudden. I think I need to go lie down.”
“Oh, dear!” Candice exclaimed. “I’ll walk you back.”
“N-no, that’s OK. I’ll be fine. I’ll walk back to your place and drive home.”
“Are you sure? I’m happy to—”
“Please, don’t put off your plans on my account. I’ll text you when I get home. Oh, and Kaitlyn… it was nice to meet you.”
“You too,” she rushed to add. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”
Jamie gave her a small smile, but it was one she couldn’t return. “Maybe I’ll see you again.”
She watched as Jamie gathered up her purse and keys, feeling sick as she watched her leave. She knew what she’d done was awful. She’d lied to someone who seemed like a sweet girl, repeatedly. Her only consolation—and it was a small one—was that she hadn’t done it to be mean.
“What a shame,” Candice sighed as the door closed behind her. “I hope she gets to feeling better.”
“Me too,” she muttered, feeling knots of guilt twist in her stomach.
“I wonder if she’ll be able to make it to her date?”
Kaitlyn didn’t answer, and Candice didn’t mention it again. Instead, they made their way into the kitchen and got started. But no matter how hard she tried to focus on the task in front of her, her heart wasn’t in it. She couldn’t shake the sick, awful feeling that she was a terrible human being. She nearly confessed everything to Candice half a dozen times. When she burned the second batch of biscuits, Candice gently suggested that they reschedule.
“You seem distracted,” her friend said.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry! We can try again later. I should probably call Jamie, anyway. I haven’t heard from her yet.”
Kaitlyn nodded, silently thinking that if something had happened to her on the way home, it would be her fault. The only visible sign of her guilt would be the brown biscuits cooling on the counter.
* * *
He wasn’t quite sure how he’d let himself get talked into a blind date, but the fact of the matter was that he had. Of course, he doubted he’d refuse the general much—even though this wasn’t in any way work-related, it just wasn’t in his nature. Besides, she was new in town and he didn’t have plans, so why not?
Jarrod eyed his reflection in the mirror. He’d decided to wear a blue dress shirt and a dark blue blazer over it, his hair smoothed with the help of a bit of gel. He looked fine, he decided, so why were his brown eyes staring back at him so somberly?
Probably because he wasn’t ready for this. He should be—it wasn’t like he was with anyone, and yet…
No matter what he did, Jarrod couldn’t stop thinking about her. Kaitlyn. And what had happened between all three of them. It had been amazing, a night that fulfilled even his wildest dreams. To have her in his arms, knowing she was free to be there… it had made his cock so stiff that it had been painful. But the smooth, wet caress of Kaitlyn’s tongue had cured him completely.
It had been a wonderful night where, unbelievably, one of his fantasies had come to life. While he’d been with her, he’d had the most amazing feeling of being on top of the world. The truth was, he would have much rather been with her, even if it was just for the three of them to pile on the couch and watch movies. That sounded really good, actually—work had been so hectic lately that he’d hardly seen her or Sean for the last three weeks. But he’d already agreed to go on the date and he couldn’t back out now.
With a sigh, he opened his bottle of cologne and poured a generous amount onto his palm, which he rubbed on his neck. Glancing at his watch, he decided it was time to head out. They’d agreed to meet at Luigi’s for lunch, a low-key local Italian restaurant. If nothing else, he knew he’d at least enjoy the food.
When he arrived, he asked if there was a young woman waiting and was told no. So he picked a seat close to the door, so he could keep an eye out.
“Can I get you something to drink, sir?” a waitress asked.
“No, thanks. I’m meeting someone.”
Jarrod by nature was a patient guy. But when the same waitress had circled twice and was giving him little pitying glances out of the corner of her eye, he began to get antsy himself. He’d say one thing for this girl: she certainly wasn’t making a good first impression. He hadn’t expected anything to come from a blind date, but the least she could have done was be punctual.
He’d just given up and ordered a whiskey, straight, when the door opened. He knew it was his date by the way she glanced around, her eyes searching, the moment she walked in. He rose to his feet and cleared his throat.
The noise caught her attention and she looked at him, not troubling to smile or wave or observe any such niceties before she made her way over. “I’m not staying,” she said without preamble.
“Well, hello to you, too.”
“I’m not staying,” she repeated, as if he possibly could have misinterpreted her the first time. “I wasn’t even going to come at all, but I thought I owed it to myself.”
His brow furrowed at the insanity of the conversation he was being forced to take part in. “Excuse me?”
“You know, I’ve known guys like you my whole life. I’ve dated too many to count. I thought moving back here would give me a new start, but it just figures—it figures that the one scumbag in the bunch would somehow be set up with me.”
Puzzlement was quickly turning to indignation. “I beg your pardon?”
Either she didn’t notice the warning in his voice, or she didn’t care to heed it. “I did my research on you. I asked around, and you know, I think it just sucks that you’re cheating on your girlfriend.”
Now he really was lost. “Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but maybe we could sit down and talk about this a little more quietly.”
Her fists clenched at her sides and she stood up straighter, as if she could make herself taller. He would have found it amusing, if he hadn’t been on the verge of getting very, very irate. “Thank you, no. I don’t want to sit down, but I do want to tell you that what you’re doing is despicable. I know General McCoy very well, and I know he never would have suggested we go out if he’d known you’re seeing someone else.”
“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not seeing anyone.”
“Oh, sure.” She gave a short, hard laugh. “You would say that, and meanwhile poor Kate is what? Sitting at home, waiting for the phone to ring?”
“What?” He couldn’t be more dumbfounded. Sure, he’d thought the date might be a bit boring, but this certainly wasn’t the kind of excitement he was into. It felt like a cruel joke. Worse, his staying-not-staying date was starting to draw attention from the patrons scattered throughout the restaurant.
“Like I said, I wouldn’t have even come, but I’ve been in Kate’s shoes one time too many myself and I wish those girls had known about me, or that if they did, they’d done something about it. So there it is. At least now you know, you will get caught. And if you’re going to cheat, it’s not going to be with me. I hope that poor Kate finds out about all this. If I knew who she was, I’d tell her myself.”
“Please, have a seat, order a drink and we can figure out—”
“No.” She lifted her chin higher. “I don’t want to sit down with you and I don’t need a drink. I’ve said what I came to say
.” With that, she whirled on her heel and stomped out as loudly as possible, as if her heels hitting the floorboards would scold him further.
Jarrod sank back into his chair, his head bowed. He could feel the stares, hear the whispers that had begun once the door had closed behind his date that had refused to eat with him. He raised a hand, signaling for the check.
What the hell? It was the only thing he could think, the question that reverberated through his mind again and again. What had just happened? He didn’t have a clue.
Obviously, whoever she’d been talking to—she hadn’t left a name, and for the life of him, he couldn’t remember it with his brain so clouded—had given her a barrel of lies about him. But why? Who would do that? As far as he knew, he was a pretty liked guy. It just didn’t make any sense. And maybe he could have found out, had she stopped ranting at him long enough for him to talk some sense into her.
He didn’t look up as the bill was placed on his table, instead reaching for his glass. He emptied it in one swallow, enjoying the feeling as the whiskey burned its way down his throat. He just couldn’t understand why she would walk in here, spitting nails over someone called Kate.
Kate. It hit him so fast and so hard that for a minute he thought the whiskey he’d just swallowed might come back up. There was only one woman he knew by that name. A name that only he called her. His fingers tightened around the glass as he thought it over. It didn’t make any sense, but the more he pondered it the more certain he was that that was what had happened. He didn’t have the faintest idea why she would have done it—the only thing he knew for sure was that he needed to make a house call.
But first, he picked up the phone and dialed the familiar number. “Sergeant Green, please.”
* * *
Kaitlyn had just piled the laundry she’d folded back in the basket when she heard a sharp knock at the door. She paused, trying to figure out who it might be. Sean was at work, and he would have let himself in, anyway. She and Candice didn’t have a cooking lesson today, which just left those Jehovah’s Witnesses who’d been dropping by. They’d kept her standing on the doorstep for over half an hour last time before she’d been able to get rid of them. With that in mind, she decided to continue her chores. They’d go away in a few minutes.
